More from Teresa Ambord

Peace for the Taking: No Begging Required

“Can I pray for you?” Larry asked. Of course, I said yes. I knew Larry and his wife from church. They’d witnessed some of the turmoil of my life, and my marriage. By contrast, their home was peaceful and quiet. Even though I’d turned my life over to Christ years earlier, God’s peace eluded me. That day, Larry prayed a simple prayer that I didn’t understand but never forgot. He said, “Lord, please help Teresa to appropriate the peace you’ve already provided for her.” The word appropriate caught me off guard. I knew that, as a verb, it means to take hold of or claim something. I just wasn’t sure what Larry meant, and I didn’t ask. I wish I could say that his prayer changed my life overnight. Actually, it would be many years before the meaning sank in. Even so, the prayer stayed with me.

Eventually my marriage ended in divorce, and I raised my son alone. Finances were painfully tight, and worry became my constant companion. I always tried hard to succeed, to stay afloat, to be strong. I’d learned from a wonderful faith-based book some effective techniques for managing stress, but real peace still always seemed out of reach.

Then came the day when I had to drive ninety miles to a critical appointment. Being late was not an option. So to stave off stress while I drove, I planned to leave an hour earlier than I had to. But when I stepped outside, I saw a nearly flat tire. Panic rose up in me. I had no other choice but to limp the car slowly down the street to a tire shop. Experience told me the shop would be busy, so I prayed all the way there for a quick and affordable fix. There was no way I could pay for a new tire.

To my surprise, there was only one customer ahead of me. And to my dismay, the customer was indecisive. As I waited my turn, I stood beneath a giant tire-shaped clock hearing the minutes tick away along with my sanity. I realized then that there was nothing I could do to speed this process up. And out of the blue, I heard Larry’s prayer. “Help Teresa to appropriate the peace you’ve already provided.” Hmmm, I thought. The peace is there for me, but I have to reach out and take it. “Lord,” I said, “I choose to trust you.”

Then a scripture came to mind: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world give” (Jn. 14:27). As this sank in, I began to laugh quietly. I didn’t need to beg for peace. I just had to appropriate it—like oxygen for a weary soul. So I did. I breathed deeply; my shoulders relaxed; the knot of worry loosened. When it was my turn, I told the repairman what I needed, then sat down with a free cup of coffee and some popcorn.

Soon I heard my keys jingle. “All fixed,” the repair guy said. “Just a small hole. No charge today.” That was the first time I truly appropriated God’s peace. It wouldn’t be the last. I think I laughed—out loud this time—all the way to my appointment.

That was fifteen years go, but I still often return to that moment. When worry creeps in, I do what’s in my power to do—and then I let God have it. I let God do what only he can do. Peace isn’t earned; I don’t have to beg for it. It’s freely given, if only I will reach out and take it. Thank you, Lord.