Thursday, April 10

by Amy Wright
"Peace in Chaos"

When I ponder on peace in my sometimes hectic life, I first think of quiet. The quiet of a mountain cabin warmed by a wood stove in the dark night, the quiet of a sleeping child after a long day,  the quiet feel of a house when everyone but me has left to go about their business.   But my most powerful memory of peace did not come in a time of silence, but in chaos.

Last fall, I traveled to Haiti with a group from Covenant. It was one of my most difficult, un-peaceful experiences. The Haitian people at the clinic were gracious and welcoming. They were also loud, energetic and overwhelming. The poverty was troubling and very visible. The city was crowded, the traffic seemed to have no rules, and although the architecture was beautiful, most buildings seemed to be crumbling away without care.

We read letters from home in the van on the way to the village.  One letter encouraged us to sing “Here I Am, Lord.”  So we sang. We sang looking out of the van windows at the crowded Haitian city with rough-hewn huts lining the street selling what looked to be Salvation Army leftovers and on into the beautiful countryside. It was for me, among many things, a perfect example of God’s peace that passes understanding. Although I was in a country with problems beyond my comprehension, overwhelming in its hopelessness, God was there.  God holds this world in God’s hands, and singing that I will hold God’s people in my heart gave me a peace and a grounding that made the rest possible. 

Singing has always been important and powerful to me. Singing with a group of people in a foreign land about a God who made everything and still weeps for the people and yearns to heal their pain was a kind of peace that I do not understand, but felt profoundly. It was a peace that did not feel quiet, but instead an undergirding solidness in which to ground myself.

Lift in prayer today
Rebound, a Charlotte Rescue Mission program
helping homeless men who battle with addiction and homelessness