What if peace is a practice, not a finish line
"This is the day the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it." — Psalm 118:24
Have you ever caught yourself saying, "I'll have peace when this season is over?" Maybe you've thought, I'll finally be able to breathe when the finances improve. I'll have more joy when work slows down. Things will settle down when the kids get older. I know I've thought those same things. It's easy to convince ourselves that peace is waiting somewhere in the future, just beyond the next challenge or the next milestone. We begin chasing an imaginary finish line, believing that once we cross it, life will finally calm down.
The longer I've walked with Christ, the more I've realized that finish line never seems to arrive. Every season simply gives way to another one. As children, we navigate school and friendships. Then comes college or a career. Marriage brings its own challenges, followed by raising children, building a career, caring for aging parents, and eventually entering retirement. Every stage of life has blessings, but every stage also has its own form of chaos. If we continue believing peace is waiting on the other side of our circumstances, we'll spend our entire lives waiting for something God never promised.
Jesus never told us life would become manageable. In fact, He promised the opposite. He said, "In this world you will have trouble," but He immediately followed that with, "Take heart; I have overcome the world." That verse has challenged me because it reminds me that peace isn't found in the absence of trouble. It's found in the presence of Christ. Peace isn't something we discover after the storm passes; it's something we learn to experience while we're still walking through it.
One of the greatest dangers of postponing peace is that we become spiritually restless. We stop living in today because we're constantly focused on tomorrow. We delay joy until life looks the way we want it to look. We postpone gratitude because we're convinced something better is just around the corner. Before we realize it, we've spent years chasing "someday" while completely missing what God was doing in the present.
When I think about Scripture, I notice that God rarely works through quick fixes. He almost always works through long journeys. David is one of the clearest examples of this. Long before he became king, God anointed him for that purpose. Yet years passed before he ever sat on the throne. During those years, David experienced fear, uncertainty, betrayal, and hardship. He was hunted by Saul, lived in caves, and waited through circumstances that probably made very little sense at the time. Looking back, though, it's clear that those years weren't wasted. God was preparing David's character long before He entrusted him with the crown. The waiting wasn't punishment. It was preparation.
That lesson reminds me of something I used to tell the girls I coached in youth softball. During conditioning, they didn't enjoy the sprints, lunges, or endurance drills, but I would remind them that every difficult workout was an opportunity to become stronger. They could either embrace the process or simply wish it away. I think that's exactly what God offers us during difficult seasons. We can spend all of our energy wishing the season away, or we can allow Him to shape us through it.
I've also realized that some of my favorite memories weren't the big moments I spent so much time looking forward to. I barely remember our family trip to Disney World without looking at photographs. What I remember most are the ordinary days—throwing a football in the yard with my friends, helping my dad fix a lawnmower, or building a simple playhouse together. Those weren't extraordinary events, but they became extraordinary because I was present for them. I believe God meets us the same way. We often expect Him to show up in dramatic breakthroughs, but so much of His work happens in the quiet, ordinary moments we often overlook.
That has changed the way I think about joy. Joy isn't pretending everything is okay when it isn't. Joy is trusting God in the middle of circumstances that are less than perfect. Gratitude doesn't require us to ignore pain. In fact, I've learned that gratitude and grief can exist together. Recently, my wife and I experienced the loss of a dear friend from church. We grieved because we missed her deeply, but at the same time we were grateful for the years we shared with her, the way she invested in our family, and the confidence that she is now with Jesus. Our pain was real, but so was our gratitude. One didn't cancel out the other.
Another lesson God has been teaching me is to slow down. When our children were growing up, I often felt like life was on fast-forward. I was always focused on the next milestone. First they needed to walk, then start school, then get their driver's license, graduate, and move into adulthood. Looking back, it feels like those years disappeared because I was always looking ahead. Now that I have grandchildren, my perspective has changed. I'm not rushing them toward the next milestone. I'm simply enjoying being with them. We color together, play games, laugh, and have conversations. I'm learning that relationships aren't built by racing toward the future. They're built by being fully present in the moment you're living right now.
I think that's one of the greatest gifts we can give the people we love. Whether it's our spouse, our children, our grandchildren, or our friends, they don't need our perfection. They need our presence. That means putting away distractions, sitting around the dinner table together, asking meaningful questions, and creating space for genuine connection. Those simple moments may not seem significant today, but years from now they'll likely become the memories we treasure most.
One verse has become an anchor for me: "This is the day the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it." Notice the emphasis isn't on tomorrow. It isn't on next year or after life settles down. It's today. God has given us this day. This opportunity. This season. This moment. If we keep waiting for some future version of our lives before experiencing His peace, we'll miss the gifts He's already placed in front of us.
I've learned that peace isn't something I stumble upon once everything is under control. It's something I choose to practice every day by trusting God, noticing His goodness, releasing my timelines, and slowing down enough to experience His presence. The circumstances around me may not change overnight, but my heart can.
If you're waiting for someday before allowing yourself to experience joy, I want to encourage you to stop chasing tomorrow and start embracing today. God isn't withholding peace until you reach the next stage of life. He's inviting you to experience it right now. Even in the unfinished story. Even in the uncertainty. Even in the chaos.
Peace isn't the finish line.
For those of us who follow Jesus, it's the daily practice of trusting Him, one ordinary day at a time.
