The Picture of Peace

An artist sought to portray peace. He put on his canvas a sea, swept by storms, filled with wrecks, a scene of terror and danger. In the midst of the sea he painted a great rock, and high up in the rock a cleft, with herbage and flowers, in the midst of which he showed a dove sitting quietly on her nest. These same elements—the rock, the cleft, the soul’s hiding place—we have in the hymn:

“Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.”*

For Jesus said, “These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.”* (John 16:33)

The Christian’s peace is not found in a place where there is no trouble—it is something which enters the heart and makes it independent of all outside conditions. In the ruins of many old English castles a well is found down deep among the foundations. Thus water was provided for use in the castle in time of siege. The enemy might cut off the streams which ordinarily supplied the people in the castle with water. They might shut the gates, so that no one could go out to bring in water from any stream or spring outside. But the defenders within the walls cared not for any siege while the well in the foundation gave its copious supply of pure, fresh water. So it is with the Christian in whose heart the peace of God dwells. He is not dependent upon outside conditions and circumstances, for he carries in himself the secret of his joy, hope, peace, and strength.

It is very evident that we cannot hope to live in this world without care. No such life is possible. The larger and the more important the place we are called to fill, the more care must we have. Nor can we hope for a life without sorrow. To love is to weep some time in the journey. One of every two friends must hold the other’s hand and stand by the other’s coffin. Religion does not shelter us from grief. But the peace promised is an experience which neither care nor sorrow can disturb—it is something that changes sorrow into joy.

A tourist writes of finding a fresh-water spring beside the sea, as sweet as any that ever gushed from amid the rocks on the mountainside. He took his cup and drank of the water that bubbled up in the sand. Soon the tide rolled in again; pouring its brackish flood over the little spring, and burying it out of sight for hours. But when again the bitter surf flowed out, the spring was found sweet as ever. So it is with the peace of God in the believer’s heart. It dwells deep. In the day of joy it sings and is glad. Then sorrow comes and the salt floods pour over the life, covering it. But when the sorrow is past the heart’s peace remains sweet and joyous as ever.

A party of tourists were traveling along a country road. As their carriage approached a cottage near the drive, they heard singing. The voice that sang was sweet and rich, and of wondrous power. The members of the party were entranced. They stopped to listen as the notes of the song rose higher and clearer. Presently a young girl came out of the cottage with a basket on her arm.

“Please tell us who is singing so sweetly in your cottage,” one of the party asked of her.

“It is only my Uncle Tim, sir,” answered the girl. “He has just had a bad turn with his leg, and he is singing away the pain.”

“Is he young? Can he ever get over the trouble?” asked the young man.

“Oh, he is getting a bit old, now, sir,” replied the girl. “The doctors say he’ll never be any better in this world—but he’s so good it would make you cry to see him suffering his terrible pain, and then hear him singing the more sweetly the more he is suffering.”

That is what the peace of God will help us to do. It gives us “songs in the night.”* (Job 35:10) It puts joy into our hearts when we are in the midst of sorest trouble. It turns our thorns into roses.

The life of Christian faith is not freed from pain, but out of the pain comes rich blessing. The crown of thorns must be worn by the Master’s friends who follow him faithfully, but the thorns burst into sweet flowers as the light of heaven’s morning touches them.

“God has not promised skies always blue,
Flower-strewn pathways all our lives through;
God has not promised sun without rain,
Joy without sorrow, peace without pain.

“But God has promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labor, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing kindness, undying love.”*