Peace Beyond Understanding

And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:7

Peace. What a magical thought. Can you imagine walking through life, not at all worried about what comes next? Not stressed about the small things like that upcoming dentist appointment or the big things like how you'll make your next house payment. Paul's promise of peace to the church at Philippi is attainable; I have experienced it myself. But it took the encouragement of fellow believers for me to get there.

My husband, Stephen, is currently an orthopedic surgery medical resident. He is about to start his fifth year of training before we move away for his fellowship. For as long as we've been married, he has either been in school or residency. As a result, we've never really been settled.

 As soon as we graduated college, we moved to Mississippi so Stephen could attend medical school. While he was returning to his hometown, I found myself in a new place without any friends or family closer than a three-hour drive. I tried to make the best of it and befriend some fellow teachers. I would also drive back home to Alabama about once a month to see my parents and younger siblings. But for those four years, all I could think about was how this wasn't permanent and we'd likely be moving once he graduated. It left me with the opposite of peace; I was uneasy and unsettled. I didn't feel like I belonged and I didn't see the point in forcing it when we might be leaving so soon.

You see, my whole life up until this point, I had lived in the same tiny Alabama town. From birth until my high school graduation, I didn't know anything else. Every day I saw the same people at school, the grocery store, and in my neighborhood. And then when I moved to college, there wasn't a single year of my studies that I didn't have a sibling there with me. Stephen and I met as freshmen as well, so from January 2011 through May 2014, I always had my best friend close by. And now I was in a place where my husband was the only person I knew, and he was constantly busy with school, labs, and studying. My mother-in-law tried to prepare me for this new lifestyle, but I was still taken aback at how little I actually saw my husband.

If you couple this with the knowledge that we would likely only be there a total of four years, I became reluctant to put down any roots. I found friends, but tried not to let myself get too attached. I attempted to find a church, but after not loving the ones I tried, I simply gave up. I was there physically, but mentally I was pretty checked-out.

And then in the midst of this loneliness, we decided to start trying to have a child. I was thrilled at the prospect of not being alone. I would finally have someone to come home to and put all of my attentions on. A baby would fix this, right?

But the baby didn't come. For more than two years we tried, most of the time with the help of fertility drugs. And nothing happened. It was becoming increasingly clear that the solution I was looking for wasn't a possibility. Now I was lonely and depressed. But I tried to carry on. I remember constantly thinking, "If we can just get through med school, things will be better."

As we approached Stephen's last year of medical school (and hence the answer to the question of where we would go next), I received an email. It was from an independent school in the area looking for a math teacher (I had been teaching at a public school the previous three years). Initially, I ignored the invitation. Knowing we likely only had one year left, I didn't see the point in leaving the only school I had ever taught in and starting completely over. I even showed it to my coworkers with a laugh, thinking no one in their right mind would want to hire a teacher who could only guarantee a year's work.

And then God started working on me. While I had planned to shrug off the offer and start my summer fun, I felt an internal struggle beginning. I remember calling my mom in tears one day because I was so conflicted. I said, "I don’t know why, but it feels like God is pulling me to this school. But it just doesn't make sense for me to go." My mom suggested I take the dean up on his offer to come in for a chat, and see if I still felt drawn to it after meeting him.

When I met with him, I was very frank in our conversation, letting the dean know that while there was a chance we might stay in Mississippi for residency, it was a small one. He'd only be getting me for a year if I said yes. And without hesitation, he said, "This year is all I'm concerned about. I think you'd be a great fit here, and I'm willing to take that chance if you are." And in that moment, I felt the first waves of peace to my soul in years. This is where God wanted me. I didn't know why, and I wasn't looking forward to telling my current boss or coworkers, but this was meant to be a part of my journey.

And so I went. And it was my favorite year of teaching I had ever experienced. While the students and the curriculum weren't much different from what I was used to, I had been welcomed like a long lost member of the family by every single person in the faculty. And not only were they welcoming, they awakened my faith that I had let lie dormant for far too long. When I began fertility treatments in earnest later that fall, there was someone constantly nearby with listening ears, prayers, and hugs. So many hugs! For the first time in four years, I truly let my guard down and let others in. I supported them and they supported me.

It was because of this awakening that when we received the news that IVF was my only option left to conceive, I wasn't stressed. I didn't break down. I didn't ask God, "Why me?" I was enveloped in a peace that surpassed all understanding. And I knew where that peace came from.

Paul promised a peace beyond comprehension would be given to his fellow believers in Christ if they did the following: rejoice in the Lord always, let their gentleness be evident to all, not be anxious about anything, and present their requests to God. Because the faculty that had become by family did all of these things, I found it easier to do them as well.

It wasn't long after this IVF decision that we found out we were moving to Virginia at then end of the school year. Once again, we were going to be unsettled and starting over. But God had taught me an important lesson during our last year in Mississippi: He can use us wherever we are, regardless of how much time we have. It only took one year for Him to use these amazing people to turn my life around. And while I didn't want to leave them, I was excited about who He planned for me to meet next.

Now we are at those crossroads again. Since moving to Virginia, we have started a family and found a church that we love. I haven't held back in making friends and getting involved. I still knew there was a limit to how long we would be here, but the thought didn't give me as much angst as it did in the past. Recently, we learned that we will be moving to Arkansas after this. When I heard, I just laughed and thought, "I wonder what God has in store for us next."

Today, if you're feeling unsettled or at war within yourself, I want to encourage you to follow Paul's instructions. He found himself in the most dire position of all - in prison, likely headed to an execution - and he still chose to rejoice in the Lord always, let his gentleness be evident to all, not be anxious about anything, and pray constantly. As a result, he was enveloped with God's perfect peace. He didn't need to worry, because what he had been given in the name of Jesus was greater than anything the world had taken away from him. Rest in this truth today, friend. Your timeline, fears, and to-do lists don't matter near as much as you let them, but who you are to God does. Don't ever forget that.