During a much-needed time of prayer today, God spoke one word into my heart: peace. As I sat quietly, I felt led to reflect on what peace truly means. I looked up its synonyms—stability, harmony, tranquility, calm—and realized how deeply my soul longs for all of them.

That reflection led me to the story of John the Baptist, imprisoned under Herod’s authority. His once-bold voice was silenced, confined within the darkness of a jail cell. In that place of uncertainty, John’s peace wavered. Stability and tranquility felt distant. It is there—when hope is dimmed—that John begins to question whether his ministry, his message, and the risks he took had truly mattered.

As I sat with that scripture, I found myself asking similar questions. Not to compare myself to John the Baptist, but to acknowledge a familiar struggle of faith. I often wonder if my light in the world is enough—if my efforts to stand for justice, to advocate for the marginalized and oppressed, truly matter. Is it worth the discomfort? The risk of offending others? In every word spoken and unspoken, every thought, every protest, every prayer for peace—does it make a difference? What is the cost of truly listening to Jesus? The cost of faithfully living out what He calls us to do?

Scripture reminds us that this is what happens when conviction meets suffering.

Our world feels far from peaceful right now—far from stable, harmonious, or calm. And yet, Jesus calls us to embody those very things. He doesn’t simply ask us to speak about peace, but to bringit. To stand boldly for what He has placed on our hearts. To live unchained by fear. As Zach Williams sings, “to be a slave to nothing.”

Maybe that is the invitation—to help loosen the shackles of others while allowing God to free us from our own. To trust that even in moments of doubt, our faithfulness matters. And that peace, once received, is meant to be carried into the world.