Peace

Molly and I are up at 4 a.m. as is usual for us. I brew a mug of tea and take it to my woman cave. There, Molly goes back to sleep on my lap while I pray, read, and listen to Handel’s Messiah performed by the Cape Town Youth Choir. Two candles flicker on my desk in front of the window. It is the second Sunday in Advent and the peace candle has joined the one signifying hope.

Peace.

My rumination is all over the board.

Twice this week, in my morning perusal of the news, I saw headlines that included the words World War Three. The stories gave voice to concern that has, for the most part, remained unspoken. I think about my parents and their parents reading newspaper stories about two wars. But we are not there yet. God help us.

Later, after church, we stop to pick up a few things at the grocery store on the way home. Just a few things. One bag. The contents cost almost as much as a week’s worth of groceries not all that many years ago.

Then home and lunch. We had planned to go to Canadian Tire (for those not in Canada, Canadian Tire is much more than tires!) to look at some kitchen ware I’m in need of, but falling rain and ice pellets cause us to rethink the plan. Good thing. A storm blows in with blizzard-like conditions paired with freezing rain. The Saskatchewan highway hotline advises travel is not recommended on highways.

Instead, we settle in for a quiet afternoon. I collage old newspaper on wooden panels in preparation for an art project. We put pieces in the jigsaw puzzle on our dining table. I practice chess on my iPad. Gerry reads.

And the storm rages outside.

The afternoon winds down, and Molly lets me know she’s ready for dinner. I make a plate of nachos for Gerry and me, and we settle in to watch our grandson’s hockey game on the big screen.

And still, it storms.

As much as depends on you, live peaceably with all men.

I have little to no control over most of the things I worry about. That’s a lesson I have to learn and relearn over and over again. World peace is not something I can wish or worry into being, but I can nurture inner peace and peace in my home and, yes, peace with people even when they step on my last nerve.

So I

• start the day with solitude and silence.
• cultivate peace in our home.
• try to look past words and behaviors into hearts (I need a lot more practice at this).

This week, as I look at the second candle flickering on my desk in the early morning, I’ll ponder peace in the world and in my life, all in the context of waiting.

Even so, come, Lord Jesus.