It’s not exactly peaceful here.
It’s loud and ferocious, really. One wrong step, and we’ll be swept away and crushed against rocks. It’s bone-chilling cold, a little stark, and dizzying in a white-capped frenzy.
Yet it’s exactly the sort of peace we need.
I suppose that’s what God is teaching me today. You walk alongside that loud danger with all its uncertainly and unsettled turns. You pick your way over slippery rocks the whole way. You have no idea where you’re going, but soon, you find the quiet, still waters He’s been trying to get you to.
It’s a different kind of quiet, a different kind of peace. It’s the one God chooses, so you receive it right alongside the rapids. They don’t stop, but in Sabbath rest, we do.