My six year old said it best when he yelled “I was perfectly happy until you asked me to do the dishes, and now everything is ruined!”.

I might have dismissed his childish outburst, but honestly, I felt the same way.  We’d just learned that our latest attempt to get visas to remain in Italy as missionaries had failed.  We’re running out of time, we don’t have the information we need to make a good decision, and our remote location makes it difficult to research our options. The whole situation makes me feel miserable.

Or does it?

In our family, we pay close attention to our emotions.  We check in regularly on a heart level.  We talk about the wide range of emotions expressed in the Psalms and in the life of Jesus.  We do this because you can’t effectively guard your heart if you don’t know what’s in it.

When you pay attention to your heart, you can take full responsibility for your emotions and your actions.

We challenge each other and also teach our kids to strive for true peace in every circumstance.  So it’s totally legitimate for me to feel miserable when we can’t legally stay in the country God clearly called us to.  The prospect of being homeless and unemployed again in just a few weeks is disheartening.

It’s legitimate to feel miserable, but not necessary.

Even in the midst of difficulty, perfect peace is available to me.  Not just numbness or lack of conflict, but genuine peace. The Hebrew idea of peace or שלום is a dynamic state of wholeness and complete well-being.  It might seem ridiculous, or even foolish to experience this peace in difficult circumstances.  But it isn’t denial when we have so many promises to back it up.  And it’s available to everyone who’s willing to lay aside control, comfort, and their own reputation.  If we aren’t experiencing peace, it’s because we’re believing a lie about ourselves or about God.  So instead of focusing on the circumstances, we focus on exposing the lies we’re believing and asking the Holy Spirit to replace them with truth.  That way, no matter what happens, we aren’t panicking and aggravating the situation. We can move forward and readily cooperate with God.

I’m confident doing the dishes for 10 minutes won’t jeopardize my son’s long term happiness.  In fact, it will benefit him in the long run.  It’s hard to see my own brief trials through the same lens.  But what if this is exactly how God sees them?

What circumstance seems to be preventing you from experiencing peace, joy, or contentment?  What truth is God revealing about the situation?