Still, In One Peace

by Rev . Ronald W. Cadmus

I believe we can be strong, hopeful, and secure, while discovering how to live each moment, confront every struggle, and handle any adversity. In doing this, we are able to find ourselves living Still, In One Peace.

Many of you will know the painful struggles and adversities through which we hope to find ourselves still in one piece.

As a writer and sojourner in the desire to find that Still place of God’s peace, I have known the pain of being “left in one piece” because of life’s circumstances, and I want to share one of those moments with you. I have not seen, nor spoken to my daughters in 18 years—they are now 39 and 31 years old.

It is the only sad place in my heart in an otherwise creative, happy, and fulfilling life. As I think of them, I remember this story I wrote to describe the peace I have attempted to find in my broken places.

As a child, Laurie had the ability to reveal metaphors in the simplest things. Driving in the car on rainy days, she perceived meaning in the rain beyond it having the capacity to destroy a family picnic or a day at the beach. Buckled in her seat belt next to me, she attempted to peer above the car door, as the rain pelted the hood with hailstorm force and the windshield wipers rhythmically rubbed against the glass, unable to clear the windows of the water outpacing their speed. With her fingertip, she would follow the rain patterns that changed with the wind velocity and the vibration of the car. Tracing each design with her tiny hands she would say, “See the rain? It’s dancing!” The idea caught on. Through the years, every time it rained we automatically said, “See the dancing rain.”

Years later, when Laurie was eleven, on a beautiful, sunny day, my daughters were sitting in the back seat of the car. I had to pull over to the side of the road. I was crying uncontrollably, my tears creating the likeness of torrential rain. There was no windshield against my heart to protect me from my hurt. The cassette was playing the song “Memory” from the Broadway soundtrack CATS. “Touch me, it’s so easy to leave me, all alone with my memories of my days in the sun.”

This was the first weekend visit I had with my girls since their mother and I divorced. The pain was excruciating. Four-year-old Sarah sat quietly next to her sister, wondering what was wrong with Daddy. There was a gentle tap on my shoulder, attempting to comfort me, Laurie whispered in my ear, “Remember Daddy, remember. See the dancing rain!”

I think of my daughters and this thought each time the rain falls upon the windshield of my car or a tear on the face of my heart.

For my latest book, Still, In One Peace, I wanted to provide a source for sacred wellness. I wanted to offer a cavalcade of courage, and a testament to powerful living that will enable you not only to Believe Out Loud, but to know that the One who has called you “Beloved, Out Loud,” will bring any brokenness, strife, discouragement, disappointment or fear to a place where you can be still, in one peace.

I pray that this is particularly true for the LGBT community. The members of this community do not have to go through life, merely surviving. We can go through it, living in the confident reassurance that we can be “still, in one peace.” We can believe in ourselves out loud and know that we are beloved by God and loved by Him out loud. To come to this place where we are held in the Beloved affirmation of God’s love for us is to find ourselves still, in the one peace of God.

I pray this book will help you to be “still, in one peace.

What ever the circumstances of your life might be, wherever there is a broken relationship, alienation or rejection, a pain or deep discouragement, or wherever you might feel totally abandoned or hopeless, I encourage you to know the precious gift of your life, as God lovingly holds you Still, In One Peace.

Remember, my friends: when you are held in that Still Peace of His love, you always will “see the dancing rain.”

For all ordering options, visit Amazon; Photo via flickr user Alan Wu

Comments (1)

Lindsey T.

I am so sorry for your
I am so sorry for your ongoing loss, and so happy for you that you are able to find peace in the midst of your sorrow, and God’s comfort, and the comfort from your daughter as well, even though she and her sister are gone from you right now. I pray for healing and reconciliation for all of you, but if it doesn’t come in this life, I pray that you can hang to that peace. I have a seven-year-old son, and it’s hard to imagine the feeling of being separated from him; my heart breaks for you.

I’m flipping through a few pages of your book on Amazon, and I’m hopeful that it may help me with similar feelings, though my troubles are not so great as yours; I’m a librarian, so I’m going to request that it be ordered for the public library where I work, so that it may help others as well. Thank you for sharing your insights, and God bless you and your family, both near and far.

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