Peace That Rules

 

The Vision

The dust of the marketplace settled thickly on Eliav's sandals, mirroring the unsettled dust in his heart. Around him, the cacophony of commerce roared – merchants hawking wares, buyers haggling, the clatter of coins a constant, grating reminder of what he felt he lacked. Eliav was a potter; his hands were skilled, and his creations were sturdy and beautiful. Yet, contentment was as elusive as a perfectly symmetrical vase on a wobbly wheel.

The Pain

He watched Reuben, the weaver, proudly display vibrant, expensive fabrics. He heard Matthias, the metalsmith, counting a heavy pouch of denarii. A familiar anxiety gnawed at him. Was his work enough? Would he provide? The future felt like unformed clay – shapeless and uncertain. Fear, that unwelcome guest, sat heavily in his soul.

The Promise

That evening, weary, Eliav sat beneath the olive tree in his small courtyard. The sun cast a rainbow across the sky, which he often tried to capture in his glazes, but the beauty felt distant tonight. His thoughts raced, a frantic internal marketplace of 'what ifs' and 'only' ifs.' He remembered the whispers of worry about Roman taxes, the gossip about a neighbor's misfortune. Peace felt like a foreign currency he couldn't afford. The promise wasn't of overflowing coin pouches or freedom from hardship but of unwavering Divine presence; the Creator of the universe, the one who breathed life into clay, promised to be with him constantly. What power did money truly hold? What ultimate harm could fleeting mortal worries inflict? The scripture's conclusion resonated with newfound strength: "The Lord is my helper; whom shall I fear. "What can mere mortals do to me?" (Hebrews 13:6). Nothing. Eliav understood neither his skill nor the market's fluctuations but in God, his ever-present Help.

The Prayer

He closed his eyes, resting his hands on his knees, calloused and stained from the clay he worked daily. Teaching he'd heard recently, words carried by travelers familiar with the Apostle Paul's letters, drifted into his mind: "Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts ..." (Colossians 3:15a). The word struck him. Not merely suggest or visit occasionally, but rule. Like an umpire settling disputes, calling the shots within his soul. What were the arguments raging inside him? Fear vs. Faith. Lack vs. Provision. Anxiety vs. Trust.

What if he intentionally, deliberately, let Christ's peace be the deciding voice? The verse continues, "...since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful." (Colossians 3:15b). Thankful? Even now, amidst the worry? -He looked at his sturdy hands, his simple home, the clay waiting for him. Yes, there was much to be thankful for. Gratitude began to nudge anxiety aside. Then, another ancient and firm set of words surfaced, echoed by teachers of the Way: "Let your conduct be without covetousness; be content with such things as you have. for God "will never leave you nor forsake you." (Hebrews 13:5).

The Potter

A profound shift began within Eliav, subtle yet strong, like the slow centering of clay on the wheel. The frantic noise within shifted to quietness, replaced by the steady rhythm of the promises he clung to. He wouldn't magically become the wealthiest merchant, nor would challenges disappear. But the umpire of peace was taking its rightful place, silencing the fear rooted in lack and the anxiety fueled by comparison. Contentment wasn't about having everything but realizing What he truly desired.

The Peace

Opening his eyes, Eliav looked towards his workshop. Tomorrow, he would rise and shape the clay. But tonight, under the vast, darkening sky, he allowed the peace of Christ, anchored by the promise of God's unending presence, to rule his heart. And for the first time in a long time, Eliav, the potter, felt truly rich.

Transformative Power

Heavenly Father,

We come before you now, asking for open hearts and understanding minds. Like the clay in the potter's hands, we acknowledge that You are our skilled Maker, with purpose and wisdom in every touch. Help us to release our grip on what we think our lives should be and, instead, be pliable in Your hands. Grant us the courage to face our struggles and imperfections, knowing you can reshape us into vessels of beauty and purpose. We ask for your guidance and grace in this moment of reflection.  In the name of Jesus, Amen