The very first Scripture I ever read was John 14:27:

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

I had just poured out my heart, confessing every sin and failing to a pastor I had only just met. I left nothing out. For the first time, I was deliberately talking to a representative of God, which, to my heathen mind, was the same as talking TO God.

It was an ugly stream of facts. I was past caring if it shocked this man of God, or even God Himself. I had nowhere left to go in my heart. I had tried everything else, and now I wanted to see how God would respond, what He would say to my shocking confessions — if He was, indeed, real at all.

The truth is, I did feel peace after all that confessing. I assumed it was simply a result of releasing the truth, and relieving the pressure of self-disgust which had built up inside.

I didn’t believe in Jesus yet. But if He was real, and He could, indeed, give me peace better than the world could, I was interested. Honestly, the preacher surprised me. I thought he would surely try to get me saved right then and there, a sinful soul ripe for the picking. But he didn’t.

Wisely, he listened. He assured me that my confessions didn’t shock God, who already knew it all. He gave me this one Scripture from John, and said, “I believe this is what the Lord wants you to know right now.”

I left then, a paperback Bible in hand with one verse that belonged to me, a gift from an unknown, invisible God, whom I had only thought of as judge and jury.

I expected some expression of judgment from this preacher on God’s behalf, and the pressure to repent and be “saved.” Instead, I walked away in peace, all my tears cried and dried, my words spent, an hour’s worth of words describing vile things, selfish things, heartbreaking things, and hopelessness.

In exchange, I walked away with three sentences of peace and promise, addressed to me as if I were the most deserving person on earth.

I didn’t know how to believe in it. But I didn’t have to, because the peace was real. It just carried me. It swaddled my soul, and I rested. I slept like an innocent child that night.

It was still there in the morning.

The peace Jesus gave me led me all the way into His love that day. And the next day, and the next.

The peace Jesus gives is still with me today, forty years down the road.

It is not like any peace the world gives. I’ve learned that the peace of Jesus is not a promise to quiet and fix all the externals in your life. It is not a frail thing you have to hold up. It is vastly superior to any peace you can drum up on your own.

The peace of Jesus is nothing less than His Presence, always with you. It is the gift of Himself, a gift He never takes back.

I love Him because He gave me this gift in my worst moment. Jesus gave Himself to me when I was yet a sinner, and peace came with Him.

A wise pastor friend recently observed that peace is only truly available when you live in the present. You can’t change the past, and you can’t change the future. Peace is for now, the moment you are in.

It is true, and for you it is particularly true when you live in the present with He Who Is Present with you always: Jesus.

Whatever moment you are living in right now, the peace of Jesus is the gift He offers, even Himself. If you stop clutching all those troubles and fears, your hands and heart will be free to reach for Him. He is, Beloved, right there, and He is peace to those who lean back and rest against Him.