For days I grappled discouragement and it just didn't make sense to me. I began hunting for peace—God's peace—after all, how was I to teach a Bible study dealing with peace when all I had was a ring of evaporation where there once was that river of peace? So I searched for where I turned off the path, for harbored sin, for unknown sin, for over-tiredness...anything that might even overshadow God's peace in me. But I carefully avoided an area. It hurt too much to go near there. An area that often seems selfish to me.
You'd think I'd have learned my lesson by now. But I guess I haven't.
In the midst of all that's going on, I closed the documents that were always open. It seemed that once again I had to postpone writing fiction and, to be honest, I didn't put up much of a fight. The historical missionary romance story I'm working on brings up so much emotion in me that it's overwhelming. I totally love the research I was doing, but had to read it through tears. I don't understand why. Maybe it's a way that God was using to show me and remind me that this isn't just a pet project, that it's something He's planted deep in my heart, that it's not something I can walk away from, even for a few months. Working on it is a joy that often bleeds and leaves me wavering between exhilaration and exhaustion.
On my way to Bible study last night, I poured out my heart to God, asking Him where the peace had gone and how was I to teach on His peace when I didn't have it. I asked, and God answered. I think He'd been trying to answer for a couple of days but I was too busy avoiding that area of my heart, thinking the ache over closing that document for awhile was simply my selfish desire to write.
Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful. ~John 14:27
So tell me, how's the peace in your heart?