Peace in the Pressure
We're exhausted. Let's just be honest about it.
This season that's supposed to fill us with peace has become the most stressful time of the year. Between family dynamics that never quite get easier, financial pressures that keep us awake at night, and a culture that feels like it's unraveling at the seams, we're barely holding it together. And on top of all that, we're expected to pretend we've got everything under control.
If Jesus really is the Prince of Peace, why doesn't our heart always feel peaceful?
The Reality Check We Need
Jesus gave us one of the most brutally honest statements in all of Scripture: "I have told you these things so that in me you may have peace. You will have suffering in this world. Be courageous! I have conquered the world" (John 16:33).
Notice what Jesus didn't say. He didn't say you *might* have suffering or that *if* things go badly, you *could* face hardship. He said you *will* have suffering. This is as certain as the sunrise.
The word translated as "suffering" or "tribulation" literally means pressure, squeezing, or crushing. Think of olives in an olive press or grapes in a winepress, compressed until something gives. That's the image Jesus uses to describe life in this world.
This destroys two popular but false narratives about peace.
The secular worldview tells us that peace is the absence of suffering. It promises that if we just manage our lives well enough: eat right, exercise, organize our finances, set boundaries, we can eliminate pain and stress. Peace, in this imagination, is the result of perfect control.
But when tragedy strikes, the diagnosis, the layoff, the betrayal, those who believe this lie aren't just sad. They're traumatized. They feel like the universe has malfunctioned. "This wasn't supposed to happen to me! I did everything right!"
The prosperity gospel says that if you're a good Christian with enough faith, you'll be rich, healthy, and happy. God wants you comfortable.
But look at where Jesus was when He spoke these words. He was in the Upper Room, hours away from being beaten, mocked, and crucified. He looked at His followers and said, "Get ready. It's going to be rough."
Why the Pressure Comes
The crushing pressure we experience isn't random. It serves several purposes in God's sovereign plan.
First, suffering exposes our idols. When pressure hits your life, whatever you're actually trusting in will break. If you're trusting in money, financial pressure will crush you. If you're trusting in your children's success, their struggles will devastate you. If you're trusting in your reputation, criticism will destroy you.
Suffering doesn't create these problems—it reveals them.
Second, tribulation drives us to Christ. We're creatures who constantly try to run our own lives. From the moment we wake up, we want the throne. We want control. We think if we can just manage everything well enough, we'll be fine.
But then the pressure comes. The phone call in the middle of the night. The unexpected diagnosis. And suddenly, our tiny kingdom crumbles. We realize we're not as strong or in control as we thought.
The pressure becomes God's megaphone, saying, "You're weak. You're not sovereign. You need help. Run to the One who is strong."
This is actually mercy. God loves us too much to let us keep pretending we can save ourselves.
Where Peace Actually Lives
So where is the peace? Look at the beginning of the verse: "I have said these things to you, that **in me** you may have peace."
Peace is not a program, a formula, or a technique. **Peace is a Person.** And that Person is Jesus Christ.
The Gospel isn't primarily advice about what you should do to achieve peace. It's an announcement about where peace is found. And it's found in Christ.
When anxiety starts to rise and pressure begins to squeeze, where do you run?
The secular world tells you to run inward: meditate deeper, find your inner strength, discover your true self.
The moralistic church tells you to run to works: read your Bible more, serve more, pray harder, do more, try harder, be better.
But Jesus says, "Run to Me."
The Peace That Guards
When you're in Christ, your status with God is fixed, unchangeable, and permanent. The war between you and God has ended. Your sins and failures have been paid for by the Prince of Peace. It's finished.
Therefore, when trials hit, you don't have to fear that God is punishing you. The loss of a job isn't God's revenge, it's God refining you. The illness isn't payback, it's pruning. Because you're in Christ, you're covered by His righteousness and beloved by the Father.
Paul talks about this in Philippians when he says the peace of God will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. The word "guard" is a military term, the image of a sentry standing watch over the control center of your life.
When fear whispers, "You're going to lose everything" or "God is angry with you," the Sentry says, "Halt! You have no authority here. This house belongs to the Prince of Peace."
But you only get that guard if you stay in the location. You only experience that protection if you remain in Christ.
Practically, this means two things:
Trust His Word with your mind. When fear floods your thinking, stop listening to your feelings and start listening to Scripture. Preach the Gospel to yourself. Replace the lies with truth.
Abide in prayer with your heart. Take the anxiety and immediately convert it into prayer. Pour it out to the One who can carry it. Exchange your crushing weight for His peace.
The Victory That's Already Won
"But take heart; I have overcome the world."
This isn't a prediction or wishful thinking. It's a declaration of accomplished fact. The verb tense indicates something already done with ongoing effects. The King has already won the war.
Jesus conquered the sources of the world's power: sin and death.
On the cross, He was crushed by the full weight of the world's sin, taking the greatest pressure of all, separation from the Father, so we could have the greatest peace of all, union with the Father.
By rising from the grave, He proved that death itself has been disarmed. Death is now just a doorway, not a dead end.
Think about what this means. Every fear that keeps you up at night ultimately traces back to the fear of death. We fear losing our job because we fear scarcity and ultimately death. We fear sickness because we fear weakness and ultimately death. We fear rejection because we fear dying alone.
But Jesus walked into death and came out alive. He disarmed it. For the Christian, death is no longer the end of everything, it's the beginning of everything.
If death itself has been conquered, what exactly are you afraid of?
Living from Victory
Because Jesus has overcome the world, you can:
Face your fears honestly. You don't have to shove anxiety down or pretend everything is fine. Name your fears, then hold them up to the cross.
Stop trying to control the future. Anxiety is essentially the attempt to control a future that doesn't belong to you. Jesus owns the future. Release your grip.
Be a person of rest in a frantic culture. In a world drowning in anxiety, the Christian should be the calmest person in the room, not because we're naive, but because we have peace with God, peace in God, and peace about the ultimate outcome of history.
The invitation is simple, profound, and life-giving: Come to Jesus. Enter the shelter. Find your peace in the One who has already overcome the world.
Lay down your weapons of control. Surrender your anxiety. Take heart.
The Prince of Peace has won the war.
This season that's supposed to fill us with peace has become the most stressful time of the year. Between family dynamics that never quite get easier, financial pressures that keep us awake at night, and a culture that feels like it's unraveling at the seams, we're barely holding it together. And on top of all that, we're expected to pretend we've got everything under control.
If Jesus really is the Prince of Peace, why doesn't our heart always feel peaceful?
The Reality Check We Need
Jesus gave us one of the most brutally honest statements in all of Scripture: "I have told you these things so that in me you may have peace. You will have suffering in this world. Be courageous! I have conquered the world" (John 16:33).
Notice what Jesus didn't say. He didn't say you *might* have suffering or that *if* things go badly, you *could* face hardship. He said you *will* have suffering. This is as certain as the sunrise.
The word translated as "suffering" or "tribulation" literally means pressure, squeezing, or crushing. Think of olives in an olive press or grapes in a winepress, compressed until something gives. That's the image Jesus uses to describe life in this world.
This destroys two popular but false narratives about peace.
The secular worldview tells us that peace is the absence of suffering. It promises that if we just manage our lives well enough: eat right, exercise, organize our finances, set boundaries, we can eliminate pain and stress. Peace, in this imagination, is the result of perfect control.
But when tragedy strikes, the diagnosis, the layoff, the betrayal, those who believe this lie aren't just sad. They're traumatized. They feel like the universe has malfunctioned. "This wasn't supposed to happen to me! I did everything right!"
The prosperity gospel says that if you're a good Christian with enough faith, you'll be rich, healthy, and happy. God wants you comfortable.
But look at where Jesus was when He spoke these words. He was in the Upper Room, hours away from being beaten, mocked, and crucified. He looked at His followers and said, "Get ready. It's going to be rough."
Why the Pressure Comes
The crushing pressure we experience isn't random. It serves several purposes in God's sovereign plan.
First, suffering exposes our idols. When pressure hits your life, whatever you're actually trusting in will break. If you're trusting in money, financial pressure will crush you. If you're trusting in your children's success, their struggles will devastate you. If you're trusting in your reputation, criticism will destroy you.
Suffering doesn't create these problems—it reveals them.
Second, tribulation drives us to Christ. We're creatures who constantly try to run our own lives. From the moment we wake up, we want the throne. We want control. We think if we can just manage everything well enough, we'll be fine.
But then the pressure comes. The phone call in the middle of the night. The unexpected diagnosis. And suddenly, our tiny kingdom crumbles. We realize we're not as strong or in control as we thought.
The pressure becomes God's megaphone, saying, "You're weak. You're not sovereign. You need help. Run to the One who is strong."
This is actually mercy. God loves us too much to let us keep pretending we can save ourselves.
Where Peace Actually Lives
So where is the peace? Look at the beginning of the verse: "I have said these things to you, that **in me** you may have peace."
Peace is not a program, a formula, or a technique. **Peace is a Person.** And that Person is Jesus Christ.
The Gospel isn't primarily advice about what you should do to achieve peace. It's an announcement about where peace is found. And it's found in Christ.
When anxiety starts to rise and pressure begins to squeeze, where do you run?
The secular world tells you to run inward: meditate deeper, find your inner strength, discover your true self.
The moralistic church tells you to run to works: read your Bible more, serve more, pray harder, do more, try harder, be better.
But Jesus says, "Run to Me."
The Peace That Guards
When you're in Christ, your status with God is fixed, unchangeable, and permanent. The war between you and God has ended. Your sins and failures have been paid for by the Prince of Peace. It's finished.
Therefore, when trials hit, you don't have to fear that God is punishing you. The loss of a job isn't God's revenge, it's God refining you. The illness isn't payback, it's pruning. Because you're in Christ, you're covered by His righteousness and beloved by the Father.
Paul talks about this in Philippians when he says the peace of God will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. The word "guard" is a military term, the image of a sentry standing watch over the control center of your life.
When fear whispers, "You're going to lose everything" or "God is angry with you," the Sentry says, "Halt! You have no authority here. This house belongs to the Prince of Peace."
But you only get that guard if you stay in the location. You only experience that protection if you remain in Christ.
Practically, this means two things:
Trust His Word with your mind. When fear floods your thinking, stop listening to your feelings and start listening to Scripture. Preach the Gospel to yourself. Replace the lies with truth.
Abide in prayer with your heart. Take the anxiety and immediately convert it into prayer. Pour it out to the One who can carry it. Exchange your crushing weight for His peace.
The Victory That's Already Won
"But take heart; I have overcome the world."
This isn't a prediction or wishful thinking. It's a declaration of accomplished fact. The verb tense indicates something already done with ongoing effects. The King has already won the war.
Jesus conquered the sources of the world's power: sin and death.
On the cross, He was crushed by the full weight of the world's sin, taking the greatest pressure of all, separation from the Father, so we could have the greatest peace of all, union with the Father.
By rising from the grave, He proved that death itself has been disarmed. Death is now just a doorway, not a dead end.
Think about what this means. Every fear that keeps you up at night ultimately traces back to the fear of death. We fear losing our job because we fear scarcity and ultimately death. We fear sickness because we fear weakness and ultimately death. We fear rejection because we fear dying alone.
But Jesus walked into death and came out alive. He disarmed it. For the Christian, death is no longer the end of everything, it's the beginning of everything.
If death itself has been conquered, what exactly are you afraid of?
Living from Victory
Because Jesus has overcome the world, you can:
Face your fears honestly. You don't have to shove anxiety down or pretend everything is fine. Name your fears, then hold them up to the cross.
Stop trying to control the future. Anxiety is essentially the attempt to control a future that doesn't belong to you. Jesus owns the future. Release your grip.
Be a person of rest in a frantic culture. In a world drowning in anxiety, the Christian should be the calmest person in the room, not because we're naive, but because we have peace with God, peace in God, and peace about the ultimate outcome of history.
The invitation is simple, profound, and life-giving: Come to Jesus. Enter the shelter. Find your peace in the One who has already overcome the world.
Lay down your weapons of control. Surrender your anxiety. Take heart.
The Prince of Peace has won the war.
Recent
Archive
2025
March
June
October