I asked the Lord for peace,

and what He sent was quiet.

Not the choir. Not the clapping.

Just the hush…

and me inside it.

No thunder rolled.

No miracle rang.

Just the soft tick of time

doing its ordinary thing.

I sat.

And I stirred.

And I dared to ask—

Is this peace… or am I simply bored?

See, the world taught me

that meaning makes noise.

That joy must dance,

and purpose must shout.

So I mistook the still for a stall,

the calm for a cage.

But baby, peace don’t always come dressed up.

Sometimes it shows up in house shoes

and sits beside you, saying nothing.

Just breathing. Just being.

Teaching you to do the same.

That’s not boredom.

That’s rest.

That’s your soul,

finally

exhaling.

-T*

*My guest author is Taya, a soulful mama of four wild and wonderful boys, a late-night poet, and a piano-playing church girl with a heart full of grace and a soul built to last. She serves as church secretary at First Baptist Church of O’Fallon and finds joy in the sacred and the silly, the quiet prayers and the loud laughter. Connect with her on Instagram @_yasoulsista or Facebook.