This peace concept is fragile. Some days I sense that peace is enclosed in a glass jar and that if the one holding it is careless that it will be dropped and shattered into a thousand sharp shards. Other days I can see that the transparency of peace is key to its survival. Peace sparkles and beckons us to pay attention. The road to peace is paved with hope and mercy, with compassion and empathy.
Tonight I had dinner with a friend who asked me what Mandela’s death meant to me. I could feel myself tear up. I had watched the news last night and I saw the people dancing and singing on the street outside of his home and knew I had stood there this summer, wondering if he was going to die that week or not. I am thrilled that he died peacefully and quietly instead of amidst this summer’s squabbling. This man is a symbol of peace to me and as I struggle to move towards reconciliation with someone, I am trying to learn the lessons that Madiba tried to teach our world. Tonight after a talk, a few of us were discussing the topic matter when the conversation shifted: “How can two people who had been so close end up not talking to each other?” The question cut like a knife. The person continued: “It is so sad really that nothing can be salvaged.”
Peace is a gift, gently laid out before you. The choice is yours to pick it up with delight or slam it down with disdain. Think about peace this week. How does it manifest itself in your life? Surrender to God whatever prevents you from choosing a life of peace and ask for a transformation of your heart. May the fears that hold you back be plucked out. Let peace rise in you from your deepest core. Believe that all is possible with God.