How do I get peace?

It’s a question I return to often, especially in seasons when my thoughts feel loud, my emotions feel fragile, and my circumstances won’t slow down.

Scripture gives a clear answer, even if living it out takes practice:

Keep your eyes stayed on Him.

“You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast because they trust in you.”

Isaiah 26:3 (NIV)

But how do we actually do that?

Peace Begins With a Steadfast Mind

This verse doesn’t promise peace to people with easy lives. It promises peace to people with fixed minds—minds that return to God again and again.

A steadfast mind doesn’t mean we never feel anxious or overwhelmed. It means we notice when our thoughts drift and choose to bring them back to God.

Peace grows when trust becomes our default posture.

What’s Governing Your Thoughts?

“The mind governed by the flesh is death, but the mind governed by the Spirit is life and peace.”

Romans 8:6 (NIV)

This verse invites an honest check-in.

When my mind is governed by the flesh, I’m led by fear, control, comparison, and emotion. When my mind is governed by the Spirit, I experience life and peace, not because everything is resolved, but because my focus has shifted.

Peace doesn’t come from controlling outcomes.

It comes from surrendering authority.

Part 2 will explore how peace becomes something we actively pursue and how it shows up in daily practice.

Until next time,

Dominique

I got this from Toure Roberts Instagram a few years ago. It was a screenshot that I had saved in my phone and kept coming back to because it continued to speak to me.

Before we rush to figure out how to find peace, it helps to slow down and notice when we last felt it. Peace often leaves quietly, not with a crisis but with distraction. This is an invitation to pause, reflect, and listen for what your soul and God may be asking of you right now.

Paying attention is the first step. In the next post, we’ll explore how peace is formed and re-formed by where our minds are anchored and what we choose to trust each day. I know this feels like its ending on a cliff hanger but trust me, this is going to be good.

Until next time,

Dominique

Walk doesn’t feel big or splashy like awareness or surrender and it isn’t supposed to.

Walking is choosing, day by day, to slow down and be led. It is deciding to stay close because God is not in a hurry. He rarely gives us all the steps at once, not because He is withholding, but because He knows how quickly we would run ahead of Him.

We can’t see what He sees.

We don’t see the danger ahead, the heartbreak we’re not ready for, or even the blessings our character can’t yet sustain.

Walking builds endurance.

Walking with God is a posture of trust.

Obedience builds confidence.

When you take the first step He’s given and discover He meets you there, something shifts. Then you take the next step. And then another. Over time, you begin to recognize the rhythm of His leading.

People often ask, “How do I know if this next step is God or just me?”

One guide is this: God’s steps may cost us comfort, and they may even break our pride, but they are never reckless.

God may lead us into pressure that exposes our weakness or strips away what we rely on, but He does not abandon us in it. His steps are purposeful, even when they feel heavy. Refining, not random.

If a step is driven by urgency, fear, or the need to control the outcome, it is likely coming from us. God’s leading may be difficult, but it carries His peace beneath the weight.

Scripture anchors this promise for us:

“Walk in obedience to all that the Lord your God has commanded you, so that you may live and prosper and prolong your days in the land that you will possess.”

Deuteronomy 5:33 (NIV)

This promise isn’t about speed or success it’s about a life that is sustained, steady, and protected through obedience.

Walking with God is not about speed.

It is about staying close.

And today, faithfulness looks like taking the next step you already know and trusting God with the rest.

Jeremiah 13:1–7

God told Jeremiah to buy a belt, take a long journey to hide it, then return later to dig it up. When he finally retrieved it, the belt was ruined—no longer useful.

Jeremiah wasn’t told why at the beginning.

He didn’t receive the full explanation upfront.

He obeyed first—and understanding came later.

Each step required trust. Each instruction revealed only what was needed for the next act of obedience. God did not give Jeremiah the full picture, only the next direction.

This is often how God works with us.

When we are determined to follow our own way, it becomes difficult to hear God’s. Our expectations, timelines, and assumptions can drown out His voice.

Day one was about awareness, revelation.

God, reveal in me my blind spots.

Day two is about surrender.

Our prayer today is not complicated, but it is costly:

Lord, Your plan, not mine.

Help me release the outcome and what I think this season should look like.

Help me see things from Your perspective, not my own.

Teach me to wait for each step.

Give me a willing heart to obey, even when the full plan isn’t clear.

Today, we loosen our grip and allow God to lead again.

We surrender our attitude of expectation and trust His direction.

God’s ways are not our ways.

Surrender is how we realign ourselves to His.

This is what the Lord says:

“Stand at the crossroads and look;
    ask for the ancient paths,
ask where the good way is, and walk in it,
    and you will find rest for your souls.
    But you said, ‘We will not walk in it.’ Jeremiah 6:16 NIV

How is your soul feeling today?

Do you feel rested?

On day one, we pause to examine where we really are in our daily walk with God. On paper, you may be doing all the “right” things—reading Scripture, studying the Word, gathering with other believers, watching or attending church. And those things matter. But they can still remain surface-level.

Is it possible that some of this has become lip service?

The Israelites were doing many of these same religious practices, yet they were also worshiping Baal and other gods—right in the temple of God. Maybe they thought they could cover all their bases. A spiritual two-for-one deal. That sounds extreme… but do we do the same thing?

How often are you trying to make a way instead of waiting on God’s way?

How often are you “helping” God along because it feels like He’s moving too slowly?

Notice what God says in this verse: ask for the good way—and walk in it—and you will find rest for your souls.

Not run.

Not rush.

Walk.

How often are you actually asking God about His plans for you—and then waiting for His response?

This intentional time is about clearing out the noise so we can hear more of God and less of ourselves, less of the pressure, less of outside influence. It’s an opportunity to realign—to check whether we’ve wandered off the path while waiting, simply because waiting felt too long.

The beautiful thing about God is that His way is clear. And if we’ve drifted, we are always invited to return.

Prayer

Lord, show me what I’ve ignored. Reveal where I’ve been moving blindly in my own way instead of following You.

Show me where I’ve been going through the motions—doing what looks right, but with a heart that wasn’t fully after Yours. Gently lead me back to Your path. Remind me of Your plans for me—plans for good.Give me the rest, peace, and strength that only You can give.

Amen.

Until next time,

Dominique

I’ve talked about fasting a lot over the years because I genuinely love the discipline of it — and the closeness with God that comes from it.

That Lent, I fasted red meat for forty days and pork for about thirty. That was a big deal for me. Red meat is my favorite. I stuck with it, and I was proud of the follow-through.

But spiritually? I didn’t get much out of it.

I also fasted social media, and that made a noticeable difference. When you stop scrolling, you’re forced to do something else — think, pray, sit with yourself. That alone will reveal a lot.

Right before Easter, my care group did a different kind of fast: no food from 8 p.m. until 3 p.m. the next day, for three days.

That one scared me.

I like three meals a day. And years ago, when I struggled with hypoglycemia, skipping meals could literally make me pass out. But as I’ve gotten older, that issue has eased, so I decided to try.

And it changed everything.

Every day around 10:30 a.m., the hunger hit. Instead of grabbing food, I prayed. I talked to God. I distracted myself with sermons — Steven Furtick, Sarah Jakes Roberts — anything to redirect my focus.

Being hungry made me aware.

More aware than giving up a specific food ever had. When I fasted meat, the cravings came and went. I didn’t sit with them long enough for them to shape me.

But hunger lingered. And because it lingered, it turned into conversation with God.

I realized then: fasting isn’t about deprivation.
It’s about attention.

That fast did two things.
It brought me closer to God.
It reminded me that I could do hard things.

And that matters more than we admit.

Discipline is transferable.

Spiritual disciplines aren’t just about being “good” or “holy.” They train you. If you can be disciplined in one area of your life, it spills into others — writing, leadership, health, obedience, follow-through.

Discipline builds trust. Not just with God, but with yourself.

And when discipline slips, it doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It means it’s time to return. To listen again. To get up — maybe not at 4:30 yet, but closer than yesterday.

Because God is still knocking.
And the dream is still waiting.

This three-day fast didn’t begin with a plan. It began with a reminder. Discipline is still the doorway. Hunger still sharpens attention. And God still meets us when we choose to listen.

Over the next few days, I’ll be sharing reflections from our recent three-day food fast — not as experts, but as people learning to return.

Until next time,

Dominique