THE MOST PEACEFUL PLACE
MAY BE RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE
Journal of Healing – Dec. 24, 2002
By Mary Koch

Where do you go to find peace?

A radio commentator recently asked that question. The responses were not surprising. People said they went to places like the ocean, the forest, the mountains or to church.

My husband, John, says he finds peace by going to bed.

I can find awe and inspiration in places like the ocean or the mountains. I can find rest in bed. But there's only one place I can go to find peace. I go inward.

Sometimes people define peace as absence — an absence of war, an absence of noise, an absence of stress. My definition of peace — what St. Paul called the peace that passes understanding — is fullness, fulfillment perhaps, or completeness.

* * *

OUR HOUSE was very quiet a week or so ago. It was not peaceful. John was fighting pneumonia — not unusual for someone who is paralyzed. Lack of motion is an open invitation for bad things to settle into the lungs.

On the worst day, John declined to get out of bed. More than the thermometer, the oxymeter, the respiratory rate or the pulse, this told us he was very sick.

Getting out of bed is no easy matter for John. He must be rolled onto a sling and then hoisted with a mechanical lift into his wheelchair. Nonetheless, it's been years since he spent the day in bed. Perhaps that day he was seeking a peace that would lead to healing.

Silence echoed through the house. Even though John cannot speak, he usually generates sound. But that day there was no book on tape, no afternoon MASH reruns. Just the low hum of the oxygen concentrator, the whisper of the humidifier, the occasional hiss of the nebulizer.

John is back to good health now, and our house is no longer quiet. The other night I was puttering in the kitchen, listening to the usual six o'clock sounds: the television at full volume with John watching Jim Lehrer and the news, the dogs whining for supper, me clattering pots and pans.

I stopped for to consider the fullness of the moment. I was at peace.

* * *

If you want to follow my route to peace, I'm warning you: It's full of twists and turns, dead-ends and detours. You may wander through valleys of grief and sorrow. Those valleys become smooth when you take the path of determination, just one step at a time.

You must avoid falling into the pit of anger or the chasm of self-pity. Sure, you can always climb out of these deep places, but it's tough to find a foothold.

Sometimes you get tripped up, unintentionally wandering into the gully of despair. Look up until you see the mountains of hope. They'll show the way.

And if you follow a detour that takes you to the cavern of fear, turn around and look toward the light. Find the star of faith for it will be your compass and guide.

The roadblock of guilt may stop you. Light just a small candle of forgiveness, forgiving yourself, forgiving others, and it will burst into a brilliant torch, burning away barriers.