Anxiety, that grim tormentor, is a foe that unfits the soul for its own battle. The mind, as I have often said, is the main thing, it brings daylight or midnight, peace or war. But hear this: the very anxiety which arises through your being in a difficulty unfits you to meet that difficulty. Yet, in the midst of this surging sorrow, there is a peace to be had, a perfect peace. The promise stands sure: "You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You: because he trusts in You." Not an imperfect, fleeting truce, but peace, peace, a doubling of it, a peace within and a peace without, like the deep calm of the ocean’s heart while storms rage on the surface.
This peace is no mere stagnation of thought, no lull of a blinded conscience. It is the peace which Jesus Christ, the Eternal Son of God, bequeathed to His own: "Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you." It is not a peace manufactured by our own striving; it is His peace, purchased with His blood, and whispered to the heart by that precious blood. The hymn runs true:
"Peace, perfect peace, in this dark world of sin?
The blood of Jesus whispers peace within."
Lay hold of this, for you are not called to bear your griefs alone. Bear your sorrow with Him, and then see what sweet peace you will enjoy, even "with sorrows surging round." Your trials, Lyme disease, the loss of your eye, the trembling weight of financial need, these are the very waves upon which the ark of His faithfulness bears you up. He is not surprised by them, nor is He far off. The gloom that hovers over you may, in His strange mercy, become a help to the peace of your heart.
But mark this: the ground of your peace must never be your own prayers, tears, or even the relief of your circumstances. No, "He is our peace." Not your good works, not your endurance, but Christ alone. Seek not peace first, as though it were a qualification for grace; seek Christ, and peace shall follow as certainly as the stream flows from the fountain. To be soundly at peace with God, this is an unalloyed blessing, and it comes with no hidden sorrow. It is a peace that fills the soul, a sea without bottom or shore, a peace of intense restfulness even when the earthly vessel is most tempest-tossed.
For your dear son and your husband, remember the word: "In Jesus' keeping we are safe, and they." The faithful Shepherd carries the lambs in His bosom, and not one of His flock is forgotten. The panic attacks that shake your frame, these are the shakings of the lame sheep, the ones the Shepherd holds with peculiar tenderness. He knows your constitution, your sudden shocks, your protracted anxieties. The hour will come when these mists shall disperse, and light shall stream into your soul. Earth’s struggles soon shall cease, and Jesus calls us to Heaven’s perfect peace.
Now, turn your gaze from the heaving billows to the steady shore. Bring these burdens, the failing income, the failing eyesight, the failing heart, to the God of all peace. He will bless His people with peace, in poverty and in pain, in sickness and in bereavement. The Lord fill you with this peace, for Jesus’ sake. Amen.