For most of my life, peace had seemed beyond my reach.
I knew fear.
I knew guilt.
I knew uncertainty.
I knew what it was like to lie awake at night wondering whether I had done enough to please God.
But peace was something I rarely experienced.
The question lingered in my mind:
If God had given me Christ's righteousness, could I truly have peace with Him?
When I met Pastor Lovedale again, he opened his Bible and read:
"Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ."
One word immediately captured my attention.
Peace.
Not future peace.
Not possible peace.
Present peace.
"We have peace with God."
Pastor Lovedale closed his Bible and looked at me.
"Martin, if God has declared a person righteous, who can overturn His verdict?"
"No one," I replied.
"If God has justified a person, who can condemn him?"
Again I shook my head.
"No one."
The truth struck me deeply.
For years, I had lived as though my relationship with God depended upon my daily performance. When I thought I was doing well, I felt hopeful. When I became aware of my failures, fear quickly returned.
My confidence rose and fell according to how I judged myself.
Now I was seeing something entirely different.
My peace with God rested not on what I had done for Christ, but on what Christ had done for me.
The difference was enormous.
Then another question came to mind.
"If this is true, why did I struggle for so many years?"
Pastor Lovedale smiled gently.
"Because most people naturally trust in themselves."
His answer was painfully accurate.
Even when I spoke about faith, I had secretly depended on my own efforts. I trusted my obedience. I trusted my discipline. I trusted my ability to improve.
Yet none of those things had ever given me lasting peace.
Now I understood why.
Peace comes from trusting Christ, not yourself.
As that truth settled into my heart, another verse came alive in a way I had never experienced before:
"Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."
Heavy laden.
That perfectly described my journey.
Years of striving.
Years of fear.
Years of carrying a burden I was never meant to bear.
Now, for the first time, I was beginning to rest.
Yet there was still one truth Pastor Lovedale wanted me to understand.
What exactly did Jesus mean when He cried from the cross:
"It is finished"?