I Quit Fighting
I once knew a man who, near the end of his life at 80, told me, “The first 40 years gave me no peace. I was self-centered, self-absorbed, living only for myself. All I did was take, take, and take some more.”
Then—after one of those long pauses—he said something I don’t think I’ll ever forget: “After 40, I discovered a peace that God gave me based on serving others and helping others. I quit fighting. I quit fighting everyone and everything. I gave up and gave in. That’s when I found peace.”
Indeed. I quit fighting everyone and everything.
Now, just to be clear, he didn’t mean he quit caring or trying. He meant he stopped living with his fists clenched—always defending, always proving, always pushing against life like it was out to get him.
I suppose most of us know something about that. We fight battles no one else can see, waging quiet wars inside our minds and hearts. And somewhere along the way, that constant fighting becomes the very thing that robs us of peace.
Which brings us to Advent.
When Isaiah speaks of the Messiah as the Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6), I won’t pretend to fully unpack all that means. But part of what I hear is a peace we don’t manufacture by finally getting everything in order—a peace that comes to us, intrudes on us even, when we let go of the inner battles we were never meant to win on our own.
The peace Jesus gives isn’t fragile. It isn’t dependent on perfect circumstances. It’s a peace that meets us right where the fight is—and the Spirit whispers, “You can quit fighting now. You’re held. You’re loved.”
Maybe that’s the invitation of this second week of Advent:
Not to fight harder, but to surrender sooner;
Not to muscle our way into serenity, but to let God’s love hold us.
May the peace of God find you there.
Much love…and peace,
Pastor Gregg
