Only Do What the Father Is Doing

 

“The Son can do nothing of Himself, but only what He sees the Father doing.” John 5:19

For a long time, I thought of peace as something that came after everything else was sorted. A feeling that arrived once the right decisions had been made, the tension resolved, the storm calmed. Peace, in my mind, was the reward for getting things right.

Lately, that understanding has begun to change.

I am starting to see that peace is not the outcome of God’s work, but often the sign that I am standing where He is already working. Peace arrives not at the end of the journey, but at the moment of alignment. It comes when I stop trying to manage the moment myself and instead pay attention to what God is doing here and now.

This has been a quiet but important shift for me. When I carry responsibility that does not belong to me, my mind becomes busy, my thoughts rush ahead, and peace drains away. I start making plans, weighing options, rehearsing outcomes. Nothing is obviously wrong, but something essential has slipped out of place. I am active, but not settled. Capable, but not at rest.

And then, almost without drama, peace returns when I pause and turn my attention back to the Lord. Not with a long prayer, or a clear answer, but with a simple recognition that He is present. Often I do not yet know what He is doing. I just know that He is here. And that, I am learning, is enough.

What surprises me is that peace usually comes before understanding. I had assumed I would see clearly first, and then feel peaceful. Instead, peace arrives while questions remain. The situation may not change. The outcome may still be uncertain. But something within settles, and with it comes a quiet confidence that I am not alone in the moment.

This peace is not passivity. It does not mean ignoring difficulty or avoiding truth. It is not pretending that things are easier than they are. It is a steady presence that allows truth to be spoken without fear and silence to be held without anxiety. It is the peace Jesus carried with Him into every room, every conversation, every storm.

I am beginning to recognise peace as a kind of spiritual bearing. When peace is present, I know I am facing the right direction, even if I cannot yet see the path ahead. When peace is absent, it often tells me that I have stepped back into carrying something by myself.

So now, rather than asking first what I should do, I find myself asking where peace is. Not peace as comfort, but peace as alignment. Peace as the atmosphere of God’s presence. Peace as the quiet confirmation that I am standing where the Father is at work.

And this has become a gentle guide for me. When peace is here, I stay. When peace leaves, I pause. Not to force it back, but to return my attention to the One who walks with me.

“Let the peace of God rule in your hearts.” Colossians 3:15