By Dina Aldabbagh

I’ve come to realize that being at peace is a habit. You are habitual with feeling peace about things, just as you are habitual with being worried about things. Like many, I’ve also convinced myself before that “When I get X” or “When Y happens,” I will feel peace. Finally, I will feel secure and no longer worry. But that’s such a trap.

When you get X, or when Y finally does happen, as long as your value system is based on the outcome, you will never feel real peace — because outcomes are ephemeral. They happen, then another thing happens. An outcome is a moment. But a moment is not long enough to give us a deep sense of peace. So what is the consequence then? We seek outcome after outcome in pursuit of peace. Our peace is absolutely contingent on something that has no foundation.

Real peace, instead, is found in the process. When you trust an outcome, you are constantly waiting to see what happens. Your nervous system is never at rest; it is always watching. It’s analyzing, calculating, and debating. However, when your trust is rooted in the process — in how you’re showing up moment to moment — then you will finally feel real peace. 

The truth is, you know. You know when you’re not acting in line with what you want. You know when you’re eating too much, although you want to be lean. You know when you’re not putting in effort into relationships, although you want friends. You know when you’re not really trying at work, although you want to be valued by your boss. No outcome has to tell you that you’re not doing enough, you can feel it.

On the flip side, you know when you are doing your best. There is a peace that comes with doing your best by means of behavior because no outcome feels that dangerous. Even if the outcome you want doesn’t come right away, you know that if you continue doing your best, eventually it will come. This is the cloak — the protection against a world that constantly tells you to produce results.

In Romans 13:11-14, the Bible says, 

“And do this, understanding the present time: The hour has already come for you to wake up from your slumber, because our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed. The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. So let us put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light. Let us behave decently, as in the daytime, not in carousing and drunkenness, not in sexual immorality and debauchery, not in dissension and jealousy. Rather, clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ, and do not think about how to gratify the desires of the flesh” (NIV).

What I think this verse is really talking about is behaving in a way that honors your future as something that is nearly here. We want all these things: the partner, the job, the good grade, the body, the bank account — but we always feel like it’s this distant thing in the future. “One day I’ll have it, I’m sure,” but we don’t feel like “one day” is today, nor tomorrow. We feel like “one day” is abstract and far away and that the way we behave today isn’t actually that consequential because we have so much time.

This verse prompts us, I think, to consider that it’s not that far away. Meaning what? Meaning that how you behave today is consequential. It tells us to “behave decently, as in the daytime.” I interpret “as in the daytime” to mean that these actions, and their respective outcomes, will be seen. It bucks us up a little, makes us straighten ourselves out more. Because how do we act when we think someone important is watching versus when we think no one is? Ultimately, I think this verse is trying to tell us to consider the moment we’re in right now as an important moment that is being considered in the makeup of who we are as people.

Further, the verse ends with, “clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ.” Clothe yourselves? It’s saying that if you behave like Jesus behaves, you are given peace and protection from anxiety. To put that in simpler terms: if you behave how you know is right, you will be at peace. The process matters — it’s your peace.  

For this reason, I don’t think the interpretation of this verse is complete without another verse from a completely different chapter:

“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” (John 14:27 NIV). 

An important part of John 14:27, I believe, is “I do not give to you as the world gives.” What is the “world’s” peace? It’s the coping mechanisms, the times where we require less of ourselves. These things typically aren’t aligned with what we know is right, but they give us relief in the moment. They allow us a break from the pressure of showing up correctly. But this pressure of perfection is something that we put on ourselves, and every time we give into these things we don’t believe are right, we see ourselves as smaller versions.

It’s important to keep in mind that we don’t see ourselves as smaller and weaker because a certain behavior automatically merits that. Rather, because that’s what we believe. We will judge ourselves based on our own standards and values. Thus, when we do what we do not believe is right to be the kind of person we want to be, we judge ourselves for that. However, contrastingly, when we do act in line with what we believe is right, then we feel peace.

Jesus says, “my peace I give you.” This is the peace of the process. When you are behaving — over and over again — in line with what is right, that is peace right there. And I think the most important part of this advice is, “Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” Adhering to the actionable steps of the process is for you. As long as you are acting outside of the bounds that you believe is honest, decent, and aligned with who you want to be, then you will be troubled. And most certainly, you will be afraid — because you will constantly fear that things will not work out.

However, if you behave like your actions do matter, then you are at peace because a few outcomes don’t feel representative of the end. The trust you have is based on your consistency in showing up a certain way. You know that ultimately things must work out. 

Thus, the process protects you from a world that advertises only results, that tries to rush you, and that convinces you that you’re behind. Your daily encouragement doesn’t come from seeing an outcome, but rather knowing that in this moment, you’re doing the right thing. 

From that, you get peace. Not the peace of certainty or something tangible necessarily, but the peace of feeling like you’ve done enough for today — that you’ve done your part. The belief that you will consistently be who you want to be makes you feel more secure than any outcome.