“You seem different lately,” a friend said to me a year ago.
“Different like how?” I asked.
“You just seem more…at peace.”
At peace.
A few years ago, I knew anxiety, uncertainty, heartache, but very little about peace…the inner kind. No matter how much I tried the "mindful" route, focusing on one thing at a time, I somehow managed to multitask my brain and my emotions to near exhaustion. It was frustrating because I felt like I was trying so hard to find peace within myself – so where was the fruit of all my work?!
In the words of Yoda, “Do or do not. There is no try.”
In Proverbs 3:5, "Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding."
If I wanted to feel peace within myself and the space around me, the first thing I had to do was stop trying and start trusting. Though I'd like to say that I felt at peace within the hour of learning this, I can't. Because like all things that we want to do well, we have to practice.
Every day gives us countless opportunities to practice peace - from not letting a car that cut us off on the freeway ruin our morning to catching ourselves before responding with an unkind word. For me, finding peace became a practice in not allowing situations that are out of my control, control me; a practice in accepting that people live their lives for reasons that aren’t mine to judge or stress over; a practice in praying for those who need God’s help more than they need my unsolicited opinions.
Let God handle it.
Every moment of every day has become a practice in living out this seemingly simple request, and I realized that it was preparing me for a greater call to trust.
At this point in my life, the invitation to begin any new journey, any discernment, any new project, however small or significant, is a little scary. I’m 42 years old, relatively settled in a full-time job, and a part-time endeavor, so the idea to apply to a 3-year program to become a spiritual director seemed random, only because after going through spiritual direction for the last four years, I’d never considered being on the other side of it. Naturally, the first thing I did was forget all the practice in peace and trust and went straight to worry. I’m still human, after all.
You’re so busy, can you even handle going back to school? Do you have the discipline to be a student again? By the time the program is done, you’ll be 45 years old! And what makes you think you’ll be any good at it anyway?
After months of speaking over these voices by trusting in God, they seemed louder than ever before. I've had a tendency to look outward and seek external approval; these doubtful words only made worse when I heard them out loud from someone whose approval I consistently try to maintain. I felt hurt, unsupported, and let down. Maybe they’re right. How could I even consider committing to something like this?
So I prayed, not with the intent of asking God to tell me what to do or to change the minds of the people whose support I wanted, but with a hope that no matter what I decided, I would be loved and guided either way.
Let God handle it.
The application deadline had passed, but I was offered an extension.
I requested letters of recommendation from people who could have easily said no but said yes instead.
My interview came and went last month.
I started school two days ago.
I love you. I trust you. Please trust me.
I heard this voice so loudly in my thoughts during a silent retreat that I thought someone next to me had spoken, and I hear it in every moment when I need someone to walk beside me. Someone I can trust. Someone who brings me peace.
Anna Gonda
“[God] doesn’t try to speak over the noise in our lives. He won’t compete for our attention. He wants our hearts. He lets us carry on in our often clueless ways until we come to our senses and look to Him. Then once we’ve quieted down long enough to let Him speak, He locks eyes with us and gently takes up where he left off.” Live in Grace. Walk in Love, Bob Goff.