Thorns in the Garden

I closed my eyes to savor the crisp air as I drew a large, calming breath into my lungs. It reminded me of the cool fall nights of my childhood, where we would play capture-the-flag or ghost-in-the-graveyard until beckoned home by our parents.

My eyes snapped open as I heard the first explosion. This was followed by alternating light flashes and thunderous growls rolling towards us as the distant mountain ridge erupted in a fiery paradox of violence and beauty. It was April 2003 and I was serving on a Special Operations Surgical Team providing medical support for the Army’s 10th Special Forces Group as they led the Kurd’s in their northern resistance of the Iraqi forces. We were observing a strategic pre-dawn air-strike in preparation of a push to reclaim a critical northern city.

A tear crept out of my eye as I was filled with both awe and whoa at this tremendous display of power and intended chaos. I impulsively turned and looked behind to remind myself of the beauty, peace and silence that I had just been enjoying moments before while staring into the thick belt of stars that adorned the black night sky. The sky was still dressed and my eyes immediately found the Seven Sisters constellation, which my family had weeks earlier claimed as our own as the five of us huddled together under blankets on the trampoline staring into the night sky… a moment of absolute contentment and peace. I turned back to the violence, then to the peace, and again to the violence. “Peace—no greater treasure,” echoed in my soul.

Our Inherent Desire for Peace

Merriam-Webster tells us that peace can be a reference to tranquility or quiet, freedom from disquieting or oppressive thoughts or emotions, or harmony in personal relationships. I’m certain we can all recall seasons, days, or perhaps only moments of peace, but it is familiar to us each and ever so desirable. It is also elusive. We can agree that peace is more than a cliché admonition like, “Don’t worry, be happy,” or a tee-shirt declaration that “Life is good.”

Truly living at peace is a description of our actual internal experience of our lives, with all its chaotic twists, turns, ups and downs.

The Biblical Psalms, written 3,000 years ago, unequivocally point us towards this most coveted prize in life; the greatest of all inheritances. “But the meek shall inherit the land and delight themselves in abundant peace.” Not power, not personal estates, not gold or silver, but their delight would be in ‘abundant peace’— this most coveted treasure.

Imposters and Thieves 

We live in an age where the imposters of peace and happiness have captured out hearts and minds like never before. We are inundated with images of wealth, beauty, popularity, fame and experiences. “If only…” has become our refrain. We imagine that wealth, or maybe even ‘just enough’ will quiet our angst. We imagine that power, position or reputation will satisfy the plaguing questions of “who am I and do I matter?” Maybe peace is found in experiences— first class travel, resorts, sky diving, all you can eat and drink.

These imposters are quickly exposed, however, once experienced or achieved. Wealth can be won or lost and does not satisfy; reputation and beauty wither like the grass in its seasons; and experiences are quickly relegated to memories (and often credit card bills). This is not to say these elements cannot be important and enjoyed. But history proves out that they do not birth foundational peace. More-so they breed discontent— an insatiable desire for more and better— Like [streams flowing into] the ocean, our senses are fed and fed, but never filled. (Derek Kidner)

But the discovery of peace extends beyond just avoiding these imposters that vie and manipulate for our affections. There is a reality that life is hard. Another of the writings from Psalms affirms this foundational truth stating, “The years of our life are seventy, or even by reason of strength eighty; yet their span is but toil and trouble.” Yes indeed, life is hard, and peace is threatened every day. And while this is a necessary and honest description of life, it is not meant to define our experience but rather to acknowledge the context in which we must find our way.

Harvest Brings Both Joy and Pain

As my sons have entered into the complexities of adulthood, I have often repeated to them that, “There will always be thorns in the garden.” My point is that the world we live in and every component of our living—family, friendship, work, love, health, recreation—can produce a harvest of joy and delight, but will require diligent and steadfast effort. The work of harvesting will inevitably leave us with thorny wounds. Wounds, that if left unattended, can fester as disappointment, jealousy, shame, fear, or resentment.

So the transient pleasure of status and things, along with the reality of a complicated and chaotic world would suggest that peace is unobtainable. Yet, another Psalm would point the way; “Blessed is the one who finds wisdom, and the one who gets understanding, for the gain from her is better than gain from silver and her profit better than gold. She is more precious than jewels, and nothing you can desire can compare with her… Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are PEACE.” 

The Two Ways of Wisdom

Wisdom is defined as the ability to apply relevant knowledge in an insightful way, especially to different situations from that in which the knowledge was gained. Or as Webster would put it, knowledge that is gained by having many experiences in life. Wisdom then give us eyes to see rightly and respond in two ways:

Seeing – Wisdom allows us to see through the false promises of transient pleasures. We can pursue those things with freedom and delight but relinquish our expectation that they will or would have satisfied us. We are freed to lay down anxious toiling after these false treasures and enjoy what is right before us.

Equipping – Wisdom also equips us to anticipate and recognize the wounds that come through experience. And rather than allowing us to recoil and dissolve into shame or resentment, wisdom calls us to capable action— to courage, honesty, repentance, forgiveness, reconciliation, and healing. Peace is not obtained by abandoning the thorny garden but by doing the work of harvesting its delightful treasures, learning to navigate its painful threats, and doing the work of healing and restoring when necessary. Peace will therefore always be experienced in new and changing contexts.

Serving in a combat zone was the very context I needed to stir deep appreciation for and delight in the simplest of pleasures when they were provided— a warm shower, a meal shared with friends, a cot for sleeping, a message from home. Paradoxically, it was in the vulnerability of war and violence that I also found the deepest sense of personal peace regarding my very life and the well-being of my family at home.

For me, this peace was tied to a conviction that all of my days were already known and numbered by the God I love. I even wrote home to my wife, telling her I feared that on my arrival home, delight would be crowded out by temptations for more and better, and peace would be quenched by the noisy demands and unavoidable hurts of life. This, of course, was the case and it has been a continual work since of identifying when unrest, discontent, hurt or disappointment creep in. That’s when the work begins but is also when peace is reborn.

What Steals Your Peace?

My encouragement to you is to examine your life and ask, “What is it that steals away my peace and contentment?” While this is often layered with complexity, draw upon your own experience of yourself – wisdom. Catch yourself in the act of being yourself by recognizing the unrest and asking the simple question, “What is it that I am craving right now?”

Do this often and be honest. To do so is to wander into the garden and discover the joys and wonder of who you uniquely are and the particular “fruits” that bring you deep peace and joy. You will also discover where you must cut away the thorns that have entangled and wounded you. It is then that you can prune, treat, and heal.