When Stillness Feels Dangerous

The Survivor’s Uneasy Truce with Peace

There is a quiet after the storm that does not feel like a gift. For those who’ve fought to survive abuse, peace isn’t the gentle balm the world promised. It is an ache, an absence, a hollow cave that echoes with the voice of your former fear.

You see, a man or woman forged in chaos becomes accustomed to alertness. Hyper-vigilance becomes your shield. The absence of conflict feels like exposure—not freedom. Like the wild heart of a warrior suddenly placed in a manicured garden, unsure what to do with hands that have only known how to brace for impact.

The soul, designed for battle and beauty, must learn again what it means to live—not just survive. You weren’t made to live on guard forever. You were made for the spacious freedom of the Father’s love, where peace doesn’t mean passivity—it means restoration.

So if peace feels foreign, it’s not because you’re broken. It’s because the war tried to rewrite your wiring. Let God rewild your heart. Let Him teach you that peace isn’t the silence before another strike—it’s the presence of Someone stronger than your past, holding you still.

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