His Covenant of Peace

“Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,” says the LORD, who has compassion on you. —Isaiah 54:10

The world is a mess right now, isn’t it? Truthfully, we all know the world has been in various states of disorder and chaos since the beginning, but right now… well, it’s weighty. It’s pressing in on the walls of my sweet little home and it’s all I can do to battle it back.

There’s a heaviness, a sadness, clinging to most of us. The fullness of life and its anticipation of good things to come has been tempered back, leaving us all with a more cautious forecast for what might be waiting.

I find myself continually pushing back against a creeping sense of concern in my heart. I don’t think I’m alone. I realized this week that nearly every conversation I have with other moms has a disclaimer issued at some point:

“Well, assuming that’s ok then.”
“Hopefully…”
“If things are more settled by then.”
“Who knows what next year will look like?”

Part of me wants to say it’s good. We’ve finally learned to live by our daily bread.

Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit”— yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.  Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.” —James 4:13-15

But deep down, we know it’s not faith that is strangling our ability to cast a vision for the path that lies ahead, but doubt. The line is thin, isn’t it? Thinner than any of us want to admit.

My husband reminded me this weekend that my job description in this speck of time is much more focused than I tend to assume. The Lord’s expectation of me right now is that I focus here, in this space, on these people. That I delight in the new person being knit together inside me, that I create a safe space for my family. I am to guide and nurture and love. That’s all.

I will not save the world. The Lord created that bridge with His Son. I will not turn back the clock on the world’s wickedness or division. That battle is coming, and I already know who wins.

But I can carry a cup of tea to my husband for him to sip as he encourages believers still in enforced lockdown on the other side of the globe. I can show delight in the little red leaf my adventurous, soft-hearted Simon found just for me. I can express my gratitude for Jack’s offer of running errands so I can rest at home. I can encourage Birdie that the story she has written is good, and read yet another Little Golden Book to Phin and Jude. I can send another text to my kids far away, reminding them that they are loved. I can make a pot of soup.

It feels lately like the coming of the mountains and removal of the hills might just come sooner than I anticipated. But I must not be shaken. The covenant of peace still stands.

Lord, keep my eyes fixed on that peace, allow me to serve faithfully in the tasks you have given me, and remind me to leave the rest to You.