When repeated failure makes a person look like a lost cause, writing them off can feel less like cruelty than common sense. Yet Paul opens 2 Corinthians 1 by addressing a fractured, correction-resistant congregation as “the church of God” and “saints”—then speaking grace and peace over people who appear to deserve neither.
A dashboard warning light can glow long before the engine stops; anxiety, fear and self-protection can signal a similar loss of peace in the heart. Colossians 3:15 calls for the peace of God to “rule” there, while Proverbs 4:23 says the issues of life flow from that same place. When the gauge falls toward empty, who has taken the throne?
We’ve all felt the crash that follows a sugar high—the emotional win, the reassuring word, the earthly success that lifts us for a moment before the bottom drops out again. Paul knew that feeling too, which is why he doesn’t merely greet the Ephesians with good wishes but with something that doesn’t fade: “grace and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”
When wise men arrive in Jerusalem asking where to find the one born king of the Jews, Matthew 2 says Herod was deeply disturbed—and all Jerusalem with him. It’s a strange reaction to the fulfillment of a centuries-old promise, and it looks a lot like what we do when God’s work threatens the status and stability we’ve been quietly building our joy around.
We’ve all wanted to write that resignation letter—to let the world know the hurt isn’t our fault. Joseph faces that exact urge in Matthew 1, betrayed and confused after he finds out Mary, the woman he is betrothed to, is pregnant — forced to choose between saying his peace and keeping it.
We keep wanting peace now—the right circumstances, the right outcome, the right person in charge—and that hunger is not wrong, just misdirected. In Luke 19:41–44, Jesus weeps over a city shouting for peace while blind to the only kind that lasts, and his tears raise an uncomfortable question about what we’re actually seeking when we seek it.
Pastor Tim contemplates lasting peace on this Third Day of Christmas.
The holidays can bring back the empty chair, the family hurt, the memories of when everything felt joyful—and before long, sorrow and anxiety begin to take over. The words of Romans 8 help us in times when grief feels stronger than truth.
Feeling anxious? God gets it. God meets us in our worries and assures us that He’s with us.
What do the days we live in indicate? What should we truly be anticipating? As life and the uncertainty of the world swirls around us, God calls us to focus in our anticipation.