Today, my littlest and oldest dog, Sam, is having her spleen removed. It seems that she has a “huge” nodule or tumor on it. Knowing very little about spleens, I don’t know exactly what that means, but anytime the word “huge” is used by a doctor, I take note. They have to remove the entire spleen because it will keep growing, also to determine what type of “huge” we are facing.
I thought there was some irony in this verse being my topic of study, at the very moment Sam was in surgery.
“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hears be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” - John 14:27
These are my notes on it...
Jesus left peace with us. As He went away, He left the one thing that would hold us together until His return. I need this gift. Perhaps, He understood that the world, as promised, would spin further into chaos. Perhaps, He knew us so completely that He recalled the tendency of our sin nature to move to unrest, even on a cellular level. He knit us together in such a way that, without this peace, we could never live with a complete knowledge of Him.
Not only was it peace, but His peace. This was not the generic version of the drug, “peace”. It was not the shadow of peace, nor a mirror image of peace. It was not an opt-in/opt-out campaign. It was not born in this world. His was the blood of peace. Like oxygen, it flowed through the veins of Christ, traceable to the original fount.
This peace was not offered in exchange for trouble. It was not to be sought as the sirens notify us of mortal unrest. It was to sit under. It was to recognize Him as in the beginning, in secret, from the depths of the earth. I was woven in such a way as to share the constitution of the original fount.
Trouble, fear, they are unknown to this peace. My very nature is drawn to whisper insecurity and scream at its offense, but the fount does not recognize my nature. Instead, trouble gives reason to hide under welcoming wings, and fear provides a pleasant backdrop to the moving mountains.
I, the one with the cellular dysfunction, am the decision maker.
Will I let my heart be troubled? Will I let my heart be afraid?
What is promised is true. What I choose is how I will experience Him.
So, what do we choose?
P.S. I JUST got the call from the vet...Sam is doing well post-surgery!