A Picture of Peace

Will you do an exercise with me? I would say close your eyes, but then you couldn’t read the instructions. So instead - just picture this in your mind as you read:

Picture yourself in the place you feel most comfortable. The place you feel most at peace. Most free. The one place you’d want to be on a day when everything is going wrong. Picture that place. 

Okay. Now, picture who would be in that room with you. The people who make you feel most safe. Most loved. Most at ease. 

Where did you see yourself? 
Who else was there? 

About 3 years ago someone led this exercise on a retreat I was on with the college kids I worked with. Afterward, we were all sitting around a campfire and a group of us were talking about where we pictured ourselves during the exercise. One of the girls that I mentored looked at the ground when she said “I pictured myself at The Shack...that’s really the only place I feel safe right now.” 

The Shack. 

“The Shack” was the nickname given to the tiny, dilapidated back-house that I lived in during the last two years of doing college ministry. I had a homeless man who lived behind the dumpsters of the Valero next door for a neighbor (which I would be able to see from my bed if it were not for the plywood that boarded up the window) and I heard gunshots down the alley almost every night. 

This - is where you feel safest? 

But it’s never really about the actual place you’re at, is it? It’s about who is there with you.

Mentors. 

What does it do to you to know that if I did this exercise with your kid...they might be thinking of you? That they might be picturing laughing with you at your dining room table? Or sitting in your truck at the nearest Sonic talking about their latest Beyblade? Or maybe just shooting hoops with you in the parking lot? 

The girl from my story? I didn’t do anything crazy to win that trust. I just said yes to what God was leading me to do in that relationship. Yes, I’ll be your friend. Yes, I’ll teach you what I know. Yes, I’ll go with you to your appointment. Yes, you can crash with me. Yes, I love you. Yes, I still love you. Yes - I promise I still love you. 

God used my yes to provide what this other daughter of His needed at the time. A place and a person of peace. 

It doesn’t take major acts of heroism to be a refuge for your mentee. Sometimes it’s as simple as opening the front door. Pulling up in the truck. Staying a little longer. Laughing together, praying together, talking together - just doing life together.

May we be humble enough to let God use us - right where we are, just as we are - to administer His peace. You don’t need a better house first. You don’t need a more impressive title or more intensive training. 

With all that you have and all that you lack, just say yes - and see what God will do.