Obtaining Peace: Creation

 

Peace 10

 

          In this section of our blog series on peace we are examining eight different ways the Bible tells us we can obtain peace. With this post we come to one that has ministered to me most deeply, the beauty of God’s creation. The mountains shall bring peace to the people, and the little hills, by righteousness (Psalm 72.3). It may well be that there is in this passage some prophetic connection with the Millennial reign of Christ on Mount Zion. I can see signs of that. But I do not think it takes away from my point here. God’s creation pours peace into the battered soul.
          When God made man He did not place him in a city; He placed him in a garden. It was man that built the first city, specifically Cain. It is almost as if having lost so much of what God had originally designed with his father Adam and his brother Abel, he decided to reinvent things. Ergo, lets thrust man on top of each other and call it good.

          I do not believe cities are intrinsically evil. God Himself loves the city of Jerusalem, and will create a New Jerusalem in the end. But I do know from long experience that cities produce frantic schedules, crowded sidewalks, clogged intersections, a haste for riches, and endless miles of asphalt, concrete, brick, and glass. The stores are open twenty-four hours in the cities. Industry runs full bore in the cities. Music thumps from passing cars loud enough to rattle the dishes. There is endless hustle and bustle, running to and fro. Rudeness multiplies in the city. 

          Some of my perspective here is perhaps colored for me by Meniere’s disease and its side effects, and how difficult it became for me toward the end in Chicago. But some of it is just fact. It is not impossible to live in peace in a city for peace is largely a matter of the heart, but it is more difficult. The psalmist said, Be still and know that I am God (Psalm 46.10). There is precious little opportunity to be still in the city, to be quiet. There is almost no chance of serene contemplation. You can cultivate a spirit of inner stillness but it is not the same. At the least it is not near as simple.

          I am a deep believer in setting your eyes upon something God made. It causes us to reflect upon His majesty and sovereignty. It reminds us of how big He is, of how powerful He is, of how eternal He is. It reminds us that when all is said and done the kerfuffle of events will fade and He will still be. Thou remainest (Hebrews 1.11).

          God has been good to bring me deep peace in such ways. I have laid in the black night on the greensward, with nary an electric light in miles, and feasted my eyes on the prodigal jewels of Heaven we call the stars. I have felt the ocean mist on the morning breeze, and heard the surf break on both sides of the continent. I have breathed deep of the scented pines of the northwest. I have craned my eyes skyward beholding the behemoths of the Rockies. I have been surprised by sudden waterfalls springing out of the jungle as the remnants of a hurricane passed through. I have watched the sun come up over the Great Lakes with my young son sitting beside me. I have stood in the desert as the dry wind sucked the moisture out of my lungs, and watched the tumbleweeds whirl by. I have seen some of what God has made and it is good.

          In God’s great goodness, he has brought me at last to live in what is truly one of the beautiful places in our country. Eagles and hummingbirds and turkeys and deer vie for my attention from my deck. Old Man River, the mighty Mississippi rolls merrily on just a few hundred feet from my home. Scores of miles of trails crisscross the county. Rainbows, produced by the rise of vapor up the bluffs along the river, grace the evening sky often. I live in what God has made and it is good. I weep, I praise Him, and I am at peace.

          Do you long for sweet peace? Is your soul a tumbling tumult of noise and uproar? Find something God made, where nothing of man intrudes. Stand there or sit there or lie there or walk there. Stay a good long while. Put your phone away. Listen to the wind, the birds, the creak of the trees and the rustle of their leaves, the play of the brook over the smooth stones. Drink deep of God’s creation, and be at peace.