In my first year working at TC, I really didn't know what I was getting myself into. I remember one day in particular when a student was severely challenging me; my heart was racing and my breathing grew heavy as I tried to remain calm and move toward resolve. I was so irritated that day and felt like maybe this wasn't the right place for me. I thought, if these girls didn't even want help, why should I care? Why try?
I'll never forget where I was the moment I heard it - that voice. Walking down the hallway of the house, the whisper told me, "You know, you don't really have to do this." That was all it took to get my wheels turning. I thought of home back in Florida, of friends and family I left there. I thought of very cool job opportunities I knew I could have if I just went home. I thought of a relationship I knew I could make happen if I just went home. I thought of all the things I could do for me...if I just went home.
If I've ever had a "Get behind me, Satan," sort of moment, this was it. Thankfully, quickly, the sneaky voice revealed itself as nothing more than an effort to detour me from a redemptive journey God would invite me on as a peacemaker in the lives of hurting girls. Forgive me, as I'm about to dive into an incredibly unworthy and not-even-close comparison, but in that moment I was reminded of Jesus in the wilderness. I remembered Satan telling Him, "Just bow to me. Just worship me. Just throw Yourself down from here. Just take all these other kingdoms instead..."
The sneaky voice whispered to Jesus, too: "You know, you don't really have to do this."
It is only since coming to TC that I've begun to encounter the bloody battleground that is peacemaking. We tend to think of peacemaking as this lovely idea; this calm, tranquil meeting of minds, shaking of hands, agreement and love and the like. But my experience with God and with people the last 8 years has proved quite otherwise. Peacemaking has become a word that triggers images of noise, anger and maybe worst of all, disappointment... the very people you're trying to help, spitting back in your face.
Tonight I lived one of those images again. Tonight I had a moment of thinking, "You know, you don't really have to do this." I was irritated and I just wanted peace, but the truth is, peace has to be bought. Peace is pricey, and it must be bought at the risk of one's own well-being. Think of it, and it is true: soldiers are sent off ultimately to make peace happen, yet they do so risking their own. Something that initially was not their problem, becomes their problem because they have chosen to make peace.
Blessed are the Peacemakers...
After three hours of swallowing my pride tonight, of waiting patiently, of speaking truth in love, of correction and efforts to help, I thought for a moment, "Why even try?" But in a gloriously simple moment, she broke, and she let me help. We will have loads of terrain to cover tomorrow, but tonight, we found her some peace. And for now, she sleeps.
I couldn't help but think of The Prince of Peace Himself tonight... the Prince of Peace, and the price of peace. I realized that in the same way I so often feel like I am risking my own peace in order to bring peace to these girls, so Christ surrendered His own peace in order to bring peace to me. After all, He didn't really "have to do this."
I'm thinking that if I really want to be like Jesus, there is more of this peacemaking in my future, and I've come to, well... make peace with that. Something in me wars against this: I don't want to give up my personal comfort in order to give it to someone else. But I want to be like Jesus, and I want to love like Jesus. Even so, as moved as I am on this night to love like He loves, to spend my life serving the restoration of peace for others, I'm quieted by the sound of the violent Prince of Peace:
Here is the Peacemaker, so aggressive in love, so devoted in purpose, that He bleeds away His own peace in order to give it instead to me.
What a Prince.
What a price.
THANK YOU, JESUS. THANK YOU... Thank You that "we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ." Thank You that You are our peace, and You have broken down every wall, every barrier that stands between God and man. Thank You that when I spit in Your face, You offer me another cheek. Thank You that You humbled Yourself to the point of death for me; You tell me the truth in love; You correct me; You teach me; You love me; You're still with me... always still with me. Thank You for not being a quitter. Thank You for enduring. Thank You for enduring for me. Thank You that You "looked death in the face and didn't flinch. You embraced the company of the lowest. You took on Your shoulders the sin of the many; You took up the cause of all the black sheep." Thank You that when You heard, "You know, You don't really have to do this," You said, "I know," and did it anyway. Thank You for that pricey peace that bought redemption... for me.
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