A Walk on the Wild Side
A few years ago, Jonathan and I found ourselves in the heart of Africa, on a safari that felt more like stepping into a living psalm than a vacation. The wild unfolded before us—raw, breathtaking, and untamed. Golden grasslands stretched beyond the horizon, teeming with creatures we’d only ever seen through the safety of a screen: lions draped in the sun, white rhinos lumbering through dust, crocodiles gliding silent as shadows. We were guests on sacred ground—land ruled by instinct, survival, and splendor.
We were chased by a bull elephant, stood inches from a giraffe still trembling from birth, and watched zebras, warthogs, and nyalas drink side by side in an unspoken truce. But the moment that carved itself deepest into my spirit came when I stepped out of the jeep and knelt in the grass, camera in hand, a cheetah lounging less than twenty feet away. At the exact moment I lifted my lens, he raised his regal head and stared straight through me, as if posing with divine timing. It was thrilling. And it was dangerous.
There were no glass walls, no tour buses, no illusions. The wild was real, and so was the risk. At any moment the cheetah could have ended me. But I wasn’t afraid. I was wrapped in a strange and holy peace—right there, in the wild unknown.
Isn’t life like that? We find ourselves standing in unfamiliar terrain—no map, no cover, no idea when, or if, things might turn. We do our best to hold it all together—marriage, motherhood, ministry, our own fragile selves—but everything feels uncertain. The unknown is wild.
We long for peace, thinking it waits for us behind strong walls once the dangers have passed. But what if true peace doesn’t live in the calm after the storm—but in the heart of it? What if peace isn’t the reward for avoiding the wild, but the gift we receive when we trust the God who walks with us through it?
Destination Jesus
For years, I believed peace had to be earned—a prize waiting at the end of a completed to-do list, in a perfectly clean home, in relationships free from conflict. But peace was always fleeting. It shimmered on the horizon and vanished when life shifted.
Then, I discovered something both gentle and jarring: peace isn’t a destination. It’s not found in still rooms, connected hearts, or sorted schedules. Peace is a Person.
Jesus never waited for the waves to settle before offering His presence. He was the calm in the chaos, the stillness in the storm.
“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”
—John 16:33 (NIV)
Jesus shared truths and promises, (John 13-16), so that we would have peace in Him. Peace isn’t something we chase or cultivate. It’s Someone we trust. Not only when the path is smooth, but especially when it’s wild, uncertain, and undone.
Trusting God in the wild unknown doesn’t always come naturally. Sometimes fear shouts louder than faith. Your heart races with the “what ifs.” What if it all unravels? What if I misunderstood God? What if He doesn’t come through?
But peace and trust are tightly woven together. You will not have one without the other. God keeps the one who trusts in Him in perfect peace (Isaiah 26:3).
To grow in peace is to keep choosing trust—even when the path ahead is blurry, even when our hands are trembling. Not trust in the outcome. Not trust in our own strength. But trust in the unchanging character of God. This kind of trust doesn’t pretend everything’s fine. It simply whispers, God is here. God is good. And that is enough.
Peace in the Wild
Peace is hardest to hold when our hearts drift from God. He doesn’t move, we do. Slowly, subtly. Life pulls at us. Schedules fill. Emotions fray. We wake up anxious and go to bed exhausted, wondering why peace feels so far away.
Jesus knew this. That’s why He didn’t just invite us to visit Him only when things fall apart—He invited us to abide. To stay. To remain.
“Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself. . . . apart from me you can do nothing.”
—John 15:4–5 (NIV)
Abiding is about proximity. It’s not checking boxes—it’s staying close to the One who calms your soul. It’s opening your Bible not to earn points, but to remember what’s true. It’s whispering Jesus’ name in the middle of your mess. Lingering in silence long enough to hear His heartbeat again.
The more we abide, the more His peace becomes our posture. The wild work of peace is simply turning our hearts back towards Jesus.
Some days feel like tidal waves crashing against your chest—relentless, disorienting, loud. Peace in those moments doesn’t always look like quiet feelings. Sometimes it’s a fierce, defiant choice.
Peace that exists only when life is calm… isn’t peace at all.
True peace is forged in the storm. And it often speaks loudest when everything else is shaking.
What does that kind of peace look like in real life?
- Taking a breath before you respond and whispering, “Holy Spirit, help me love well.”
- Practicing gratitude when things fall apart.
- Guarding your heart, emotions, and mind when challenges come to disrupt the joy, peace, and wholeness God has for you.
- Refusing to agree with fear—choosing to believe God’s promises.
- Saying yes to Jesus, again and again—even when it’s hard.
“Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts . . . ”
—Colossians 3:15 (NIV)
When His peace rules, it becomes the steady center—the anchor in your storm.
A Possible Peace
There will be days when peace feels like a distant hope.
Maybe the storm hasn’t stilled. Maybe your prayers feel unanswered. Maybe you’re tired of hoping.
If that’s where you are today—hear this:
God has not forgotten you. He has not left you to navigate the wild unknown on your own.
He is still your refuge. Still your anchor. Still your Prince of Peace.
“The Lord gives strength to his people; the Lord blesses his people with peace.”
—Psalm 29:11 (NIV)
Chaos exists—peace comes when we choose to believe God’s presence is more real than the pain. When we profess, “I may not know what’s next, but I know Who goes with me.”
You don’t have to wait for life to settle before living in peace. Just stay close to the One who is Peace.
“Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times and in every way.”
—2 Thessalonians 3:16 (NIV)
Wherever you are today—whether the skies are clear or the winds are howling—take one brave step toward trust.
Don’t wait for the storm to pass. Abide. Lean in. Whisper His name.
Because even here, now, in the wild…
God is with you. And peace is yours.
—Written by Cheryl Shumake. Used by permission from the author.
