In some Christian traditions, the second Sunday of Advent is symbolized by the “peace” candle in the four candles of the Advent wreath.

Peace right now probably feels elusive for many of us. There’s the general hustle of the holiday season—events, local maker marts, miscellaneous celebrations with family and friends, holiday parties, and shopping, decorating and baking. Even though I enjoy all of this every Christmas season, it has a way of overshadowing the birth of Christ and what it means that God came into our world as a helpless child born into poverty and muck and straw. Even with nativity scenes abounding, I know I’ve been guilty of overlooking this miracle in the midst of all the season’s busy-ness.

Even if we are able to pause and reflect, the precarious place that the world is in right now doesn’t feel peaceful. Wars are being waged overseas, horrific images of violence and pain are splashed across social media, and amidst the suffering that we do not want to ignore or look away from, we’re tasked with trying to actually enjoy what is a beautiful season sparkling with love and joy in unexpected places.

Peace is something we have to protect, and the paradox of holding onto God’s peace amid the mystery of evil and the inherent bustle of our everyday life only grows more and more difficult in a world full of media and instantaneous information. When Christ said, “My peace I leave you,” he didn’t necessarily mean just time alone in a quiet room in contemplation. He meant an enduring peace that provides us with access to calm even when we are assaulted with the difficulties that inherently exist in being human. Christ’s peace is accessible to us in that we know, as believers, that He is at work in the world and that He is sovereign over every tribulation, that He is with every orphan and widow, that He is with everyone who feels unloved, alone, persecuted, irrelevant or forgotten. In the dark places, we have hope because God is with us—this is the season of Emmanuel, meaning literally “God with us.”

My prayer for those I know and love, as well as those far away who are in danger and fighting for their lives and feel undoubtedly far from joy, is that you would be overwhelmed by God’s grace and peace. That you would find his promise of never leaving or abandoning us a space you can reach even in busy and precarious moments, the promise of a peace everlasting so long as we remember who we belong to, and that in the end, all shall be made right and “all shall be well.” Christ’s peace be with you and all of those in our broken but beautiful world in the waiting this Advent and this Christmas.