Where do I turn for peace?

Note: If you find yourself bothered by overt religion you may want to skip this post.

One of my biggest weaknesses is my tendency to absorb negative emotion. I don’t like people being upset with me. I don’t like people being upset near me. Too much exposure to negativity tends to make me negative. On a conscious level I know I shouldn’t let other people dictate my moods. I don’t have to take the emotions of others personally. I know this.

Stopping it is another matter entirely. And yet it’s becoming increasingly clear that if I’m ever to find peace in an increasingly negative and disturbing world I’m going to have to learn to shut out the world enough to be able to view it and acknowledge it without internalizing it.

This internal struggles is encapsulated in one of my favorite hymns in my church’s hymnal–I don’t know if it’s unique to my church of if others have this one. I hope they do.

1. Where can I turn for peace?
Where is my solace
When other sources cease to make me whole?
When with a wounded heart, anger, or malice,
I draw myself apart,
Searching my soul?

2. Where, when my aching grows,
Where, when I languish,
Where, in my need to know, where can I run?
Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand?
He, only One.

3. He answers privately,
Reaches my reaching
In my Gethsemane, Savior and Friend.
Gentle the peace he finds for my beseeching.
Constant he is and kind,
Love without end.

I wish I could say this is a favorite because the last verse captures how it feels to me to be continually wrapped in the Savior’s love. But in truth I relate more to the first two verses, as they describe well the commotion of my internal battles. I’ve felt the Savior’s love on many occasions, but it’s far too often the exception, not the rule.

And it’s my fault. I acknowledge that. I’m not committed enough to building a relationship with my savior. I want the results without the requisite effort. And when I do put in the effort it’s too often just going through the motions. But something is changing. I’m not sure what, but I’m starting to want something different. I can’t continue to live like this, because the world is only going to get worse. I don’t want to live continually in fear.

I’m an instructor for one of the men’s groups in my church. Once a month it’s my turn to teach a gospel lesson. It was my turn on Mother’s Day, and the assigned topic was “The Power of the Word.” In my lesson we discussed how regular, focused study of the word of God in all its forms helps us “resist evil, hold fast to the good, and find joy in this life”. It was a self-fulfilling lesson, in that in studying the material over the preceding week and preparing to teach it amounted to extensive, focused study of the word of God. And by Sunday I was feeling better in general than I had in weeks, perhaps even months. As I sat and listened during the main service (our church meets for three hours, broken up into the main service and two instructional periods) I found myself feeling at peace. I felt myself thinking kind thoughts about everyone in the congregation (usually I manage only to feel neutral).

That feeling lasted all day. I liked it, and I wanted to go on feeling it. So I did more than I usually do during this past week to try and continue feeling it. I can’t say I completely succeeded, or that I didn’t have some less-than-proud moments through the week. But I did feel a general improvement as I tried to spend more time with the word of God.

Then we came around to yesterday, another Sunday. One of the assignments we have in my church is to be a “home teacher”. This means that two of us are assigned as a partnership to be responsible for a number of families and individuals in our congregation. We are to visit them at least once a month, see how they are doing, pray with them, and give them a spiritual message. It was my turn to provide the message, so I was looking through the transcripts of all the addresses given in our church’s General Conference in April.

One particular talk stood out to me. I’d heard it back in April and been somewhat impressed, and I’d listened to the recording of it during the previous week and again liked it. But this time, reading through it, it impacted with greater force than it had previously. One particular passage stood out:

The peace Christ gives allows us to view mortality through the precious perspective of eternity and supplies a spiritual settledness (see Colossians 1:23) that helps us maintain a consistent focus on our heavenly destination. Thus, we can be blessed to hush our fears because His doctrine provides purpose and direction in all aspects of our lives. His ordinances and covenants fortify and comfort in times both good and bad. And His priesthood authority gives assurance that the things that matter most can endure both in time and in eternity.

But can we hush the fears that so easily and frequently beset us in our contemporary world? The answer to this question is an unequivocal yes.

This promise came from one of the top leaders of my church, and someone I feel exemplifies that peace and confidence in Christ. I’m inclined to believe him. But in this case I was also ready to believe him and, more importantly, act. He also had this to say:

Trust and confidence in Christ and a ready reliance on His merits, mercy, and grace lead to hope, through His Atonement, in the Resurrection and eternal life (see Moroni 7:41). Such faith and hope invite into our lives the sweet peace of conscience for which we all yearn. The power of the Atonement makes repentance possible and quells the despair caused by sin; it also strengthens us to see, do, and become good in ways that we could never recognize or accomplish with our limited mortal capacity. Truly, one of the great blessings of devoted discipleship is “the peace of God, which passeth all understanding” (Philippians 4:7). [Emphasis mine]

I want that. And for the rest of the day I felt that. It’s not surprising to feel the whisperings of the Spirit, especially at our church services–that’s one of the reasons we go, after all–but the intensity and duration was unusual. It was a very good day.

I’m not telling you this to imply that I’m a particularly advanced spiritual being or anything. Unfortunately, knowing me, I’ll have forgotten this within a couple of weeks and be back where I started. The natural man in me is all too susceptible to entropy. I’m telling this because it’s something I’ve found that works. Most every lasting, successful change in my nature has come through the aid of the Savior in response to sincere, focused faith and appeals on my part.

This morning I began the day with my usual perusal of world news and commentary. This is usually a discouraging, even depressing proposition. Today was no exception, though markedly less. I recognized the signs that I was internalizing some of the negativity and turned my thoughts back to the events and lessons of yesterday. The beginnings of internal turmoil went away and the peace returned. When people at work began bombarding me with questions and requests this morning I didn’t feel the usual stress levels rising.

This is why I continue to believe: I find my religion works as advertized.