When my friend Mike Wells was alive, he traveled a ridiculous amount of time every year all around the world. He encountered problems with planes, baggage, car travel, reservations and all sorts of other things as he was going to visit people. He used to call this being “Wells’ed” as it meant that unusual problems would be encountered constantly for himself and those who traveled with him. I have adopted this phrase for myself, and now call it being “Morrell’ed”. It’s not something you want to happen to you, let me tell you!

This last weekend we hosted our women’s retreat in Golden, Colorado, and there were plenty of examples of getting “Morrell’ed” as things seem to go wrong at every turn. The hotel messed up the booking entirely, and so didn’t have rooms for any of the ladies upon arrival on Friday (but did have some for Sunday which we did not need). You can imagine how fun it was to get that phone call Friday afternoon, only hours before everyone was supposed to be descending on this hotel, telling me they did not have any rooms. They rebooked us in rooms at a different hotel, and provided shuttles for those who didn’t have cars to go back and forth from the sleeping rooms to the original hotel for the meetings.

Right after we checked into the replacement hotel, my mom called me from her room, saying the bathroom door had fallen off the hinge, missed hitting her by inches, and fell down in front of her door to the hallway, blocking her exit. I ran downstairs to get the hotel employees to come get her out of her room, and thanked God profoundly that the bathroom door had not fallen on my mom and knocked her out.

I struggled with the remnants of my cold from the week before, with an additional stomach upset that came as well. It’s not super fun to try to teach when you are worried about having to run out to throw up constantly. I couldn’t enjoy the delicious food we always have at this hotel because my appetite was either missing or I felt nauseous.

We were “Morrell’ed” for sure.

I also remembered, with this crisis-after-crisis of the weekend, what Mike told me about these situations. We want peace to be the absence of conflict, or the calm of green meadows and gently lapping waters. But peace is often found right in the middle of the mess. That is where we need peace that surpasses all understanding, or peace that doesn’t make sense given the surroundings.

When I got the call about the rooms, I walked to my room and sat down. I didn’t even have words to pray, but a deep peace settled over me. I felt as though I was dealing with all the moving pieces while from an elevated position, above the fray. I still felt anxious and a bit hopeless as I had no idea what we were going to do. But God told me right away that He had the whole thing, and was going to care for me through it. I heard this over and over throughout the weekend, after my mom’s near knock-out and after laying on the floor in the darkness feeling too sick to make it downstairs for the morning session. The Prince of Peace brings peace that doesn’t just show up in the absence of difficulty, but rather right where you need it—smack in the middle of the hard stuff.

“I leave the gift of peace with you—my peace. Not the kind of fragile peace given by the world, but my perfect peace. Don’t yield to fear or be troubled in your hearts—instead, be courageous! John 14:27