This year began with a plunge into the ocean. In the middle of the night, straight into cold water–the exact kind of thing I usually don’t like. I told Calvin I was going to need to be thrown in if I was going to do this midnight dip thing, and he happily obliged. I remember bracing, closing my eyes as tightly as I could, and suddenly being in the air. Then came the plunge. The feeling was what I imagine getting shut into a washing machine would be like. A few seconds went by before I emerged and opened my eyes. At first I legitimately didn’t know where I was.
My brain was saying one thing only. Run.
We sprinted back up the beach, up the long Seacliff stairs under a shower of fireworks, and back through the softly illuminated seaside neighborhood, shouting and laughing as we ran. I was in utter disbelief at what had just happened. One minute I was dreading the icy waves, the next I was feeling clean and invigorated and happy. The night ended with the six of us packed into a friend of a friend’s backyard sauna singing songs and doing bad impressions and stand up. In the sauna my sister and I sat across from each other and giggled. What kind of fever dream was this?
Since then things haven’t been as crazy fun… they’ve just been crazy. First of all, school started back up with one week online before we headed back into the classroom. It’s been mostly great, but also, try taking 35 teenagers who have just spent a month at home and tell them to write poetry while their friends who get to go to virtual school are at home in their fuzzy socks.
Also, as of late my car has been having some expen$ive issues resulting in me having to use my dad’s car, which then started having its own issues. To be more detailed, issues like stalling on the freeway during the biggest storm of the year and hydroplaning across three lanes. That wasn’t my idea of a great Tuesday night activity, but hey, I’m just happy nothing super serious happened.
Someone humorously remarked that so far, 2021 is just 2020 with bangs. I’m seeing it. But before the New Year I prayed over a word to focus on, pray over, and hopefully grow into. After a few days of praying it became clear that that word was “peace,” which sounds great and doable at Christmas when the word is plastered on every card and Christmassy ornament, and nearly impossible to achieve when you’ve spun out on the freeway in the middle of a rainstorm.
But I do need peace. His peace. And as I’ve prayed into this word this last month, I have come to viscerally learn the difference it makes when I stop myself and my spiraling thoughts and ask (more like beg) to be shown His peace. My struggle with anxiety and perfectionism means that there will always be a battle for my heart between those two really bad masters I keep trying to serve and the one Good Master who has already served me and set me free. This quest for peace, then, isn’t a journey toward something Jesus hasn’t already given to me. It’s a battle for my passions, the things my heart chooses to focus on. It’s a battle to take captive every thought that sets itself up against the truth I have in Christ and make it obey him (2 Cor. 10:5). And in that battle He’s already fighting for me, I receive the gift He has already bought for me: peace.
So this year, my goal is to truly take each anxious thought captive–to chase it down, hog tie it, throw it in the back of the truck (where did I get a truck?), and bring it to Sea Cliff State beach. Then I will carry it down to the sand, bend low and then spring up, throwing it into the icy water to be washed. Then I’ll pray that it stumbles back up the slope, a bit disoriented, but mostly invigorated and full of His life and His purpose–ready to run freely through the street below the glow of fireworks.
Lord, help me to reign in my anxious thoughts and baptise my mind with your peace.
Kayley Chartier 