Nourishing hearts as faithfully as we nourish our tables.
Welcome to Season & Savor Sunday — because feeding our bodies is not enough.
This week I made lists for my lists.
I’m heading to a bloggers’ retreat soon, so I’ve been trying to cram a week and a half of work into one. Recipes, emails, photos, all of it. If you’d seen me, I probably looked fine. Calm, even.
Inside? Spinning, maybe just a little.
By the time I hit the couch at night, I’m toast. Asleep way too early, remote still in my hand. That’s not peace, friend. That’s empty.
Funny, right? Wearing myself out so I can go rest. Who’s with me on that one?
The older I get, the more I’m learning I just can’t do as much as I used to. So I’m trying to pull back.
Which is why peace has been on my mind, the third fruit in our Galatians 5 series.
“But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.”
Galatians 5:22 – 23 (NLT)
Here’s the thing. I did have peace this week. Not because the week was peaceful. It wasn’t. It showed up anyway.
I think peace comes two ways. Sometimes we choose it. We make room for it on purpose. Other times it just washes over us, right in the middle of the storm. Usually right after one of those quick “Lord, help me” prayers.
I’ve shot up a lot of those. And He answers. I know He does.
Our part is opening the door. His part is everything that comes through it.
Poor Martha
You probably know her story. Jesus comes to visit. Her sister Mary sits at His feet and listens. Martha is busy getting everything ready, and she’s getting more frustrated by the minute. Finally, she asks Jesus to tell Mary to get up and help.
His answer:
“My dear Martha, you are worried and upset over all these details! There is only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it, and it will not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:41 to 42 (NLT)
I’ll be honest. Martha gets a bad rap, and I’ve always felt a little defensive for her. Probably because I’m way more Martha than Mary! Somebody had to feed those people!
But have you seen this scene in The Chosen? It’s in season 4, episode 5. The way Jesus talks to her is so tender. No scolding. No eye roll. Just kindness.
My dear Martha. Even the words are gentle.
And notice what He doesn’t say. He never tells her to stop serving. He says she’s worried and upset. The work wasn’t the problem. The worry riding on top of it was.
That one hit me this week.
A cook who figured it out
Back in the 1600s, there was a monk named Brother Lawrence. His job? The monastery kitchen. Cooking meals, scrubbing pots. And he didn’t even like kitchen work.
But he learned to talk with God right in the middle of it. Here’s how he put it:
“The time of business does not with me differ from the time of prayer, and in the noise and clatter of my kitchen, while several persons are at the same time calling for different things, I possess God in as great tranquility as if I were upon my knees at the blessed sacrament.”
Noise. Clatter. Everybody wanting something at once. And peace.
I’m not there yet. But I’ve had a little taste of it.
Let me tell you about our walks
During the pandemic, my husband and I started doing something a little odd. In the middle of the day, in the middle of a task, one of us would say, “Let’s take a quick walk.” And we’d go.
Sometimes we shared a worship song through headphones. Sometimes we talked. Sometimes I just prayed the whole way quietly. I knew I needed God’s peace. I knew he needed it too.
We never solved a thing. But we came home breathing easier. Every single time.
Why stop in the middle?
Because most of us think peace comes after. After the inbox is empty. After my to-do list is done. After the kids are in bed. After the holidays. After the retreat. (Guilty.)
But after never really comes. There’s always another list.
Now, if you’re a list maker like me, please don’t turn this into three more boxes to check. I’m erasing my own as I type this. Just pick one.
- Walk out the door for ten minutes. The temps are finally cooling off, so no excuses. Okay, maybe a few.
- Put on a song that turns your heart back toward God. Right now mine is “Where Can I Go” by Ellie Holcomb. We’ve been camping out in Psalm 139 for the last year or so.
- Or just stop. Hands off the keyboard. Put down the whisk. Say, “God, I need Your peace.” That counts.
Paul wrote this to people who had real reasons to worry:
“Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done.” Philippians 4:6 (NLT)
There’s that word again. Worry. Same as Martha.
And then comes the promise. I still love it the way I memorized it as a girl:
“And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:7 (KJV)
My husband carries a lot of worry. More than most people would ever guess by looking at him. So he memorized this quote, and on the hard days, when the anxiety is loud on the inside, he says it to himself.
He shared it with me while we were talking about what I’d write this week, and I loved it.
“When we accept the truth of what we really are and surrender it to Jesus Christ, we are enveloped in peace, whether or not we feel ourselves to be at peace. By that I mean the peace that passes understanding is not a subjective sensation of peace; if we are in Christ, we are in peace even when we feel no peace.” Brennan Manning, Abba’s Child
“Subjective sensation” is just a fancy way of saying a feeling. I needed him to explain that one to me.
So peace isn’t something we have to work up. If we belong to Him, we already have it, even on the days we don’t feel one bit of it.
The walk, the song, the pause? They don’t create peace. They just help us notice it’s been there all along.
Isaiah says it this way, in a verse I’ve tucked away in my heart this past year:
“You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on you!” Isaiah 26:3 (NLT)
In Hebrew, “perfect peace” is actually shalom shalom. Peace, peace. The word is doubled for emphasis. Not just peace. Full, complete, all-the-way-down peace.
So this week, when you catch yourself making lists for your lists, stop. Right in the middle. Take the walk. Play the song. Shoot up the prayer.
He’ll meet you there, the same way He met Martha, the very same way He met me. Gently.
Lord, You know how full our weeks are. You know every list. Would You meet us right in the middle of them, the way You met Martha? Give us the peace that passes all understanding. Your shalom shalom, Your perfect peace, the kind only You can give. Amen.
~ With grace at the table, and beyond
I read and respond to every email and comment, and I’m so thankful for each of you who comes back week after week. It means more than you know when you make my recipes and share your thoughts 💚
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