Is a quiet violence
On the wars that rage within.
Killing the things that are killing me.
It is a gift.
Not an achievement
Not merely a consequence of happy circumstance.
It is not driven off by disaster
It does not hold us ransom
Threatening to leave
If life takes unexpected turns.
The peace of God
Is a morning star
A guiding light
That grows from within
It need not show off,
Even in the absence of tangible blessing
It remains.
The peace we manufacture for ourselves
Is not so;
It is deeply conditional,
Even if we got everything we ever wanted
It could still be found missing.
Man made peace
Can somehow can still evade us
Even in the presence of tangible blessing.
The peace of God
Is militant.
Aggressively
Calming the turbulence within,
Gently
Pruning the heart.