How Faith Helped Me Find Peace
In late October, I attended a Fall Retreat with PennWest Edinboro’s Chi Alpha. I went on this retreat to develop my practice in Christianity and also to reset after a stressful semester. In my first article on my retreat experience, I wrote about how a supportive community was essential in my faith journey. In my second piece, I reflected on why presence is a technique that anyone can, and should, practice. My third piece explained how this retreat helped me find my identity. In this fourth and final part, I share how my faith in God gave me a gift so priceless, so powerful. That gift is peace.
Lesson 4: The Gift of Peace
Most of us agree life is better when you have peace. But the truth is, we as humans get so caught up trying to look for peace in things that are completely meaningless in the grand scheme of things. You might’ve thought, “If I get this job and make money, I will finally be at peace.” Or “When I finally get the relationship I’ve been wanting for so long, I can finally be happy.”
I used to think that way too, and perhaps I still do from time to time. But when I went on this retreat, I realized that true peace for me doesn’t come from worldly things like money, romantic relationships, or how successful we are. It comes from my faith in God.
On the Saturday afternoon of the retreat, my teammates and I attended a worship session to learn how to connect with God more deeply. The session in the chapel was led by worship leaders Jonathan Dutcher from the Erie First Assembly of God and Sydney Moore from the Erie Christian Fellowship. Worship, they reminded us, isn’t about us. It is about honoring God.
After the lesson ended, the leaders asked us to spend time in quiet worship around the chapel as they played soft music.
At the front of the chapel, there was a giant window overlooking the whole campground and the mountains behind it. I felt drawn to it, like the Lord calling me, so I sat on a wooden bench by the window. As soft music played behind me, sunlight streamed through the glass, lighting up the hills outside. The grass rolled in shades of green, and the trees on the mountains were turning bright orange. For a moment, everything felt calm and still. It felt like I was staring at a painting that God had created. The beauty of it all made it impossible not to stop and simply appreciate it.
In that moment, I found myself just simply thanking God – not for anything specific, but just for his creation and me being able to sit back and take it all in.
To me, this was a blessing and served as another reminder that God doesn’t just show up in the big, dramatic moments; He shows up in those quiet, peaceful moments, where attention and reflection allows me to listen and feel His presence.
The next morning was the day where about 15 students from all four campuses were baptized in water. Watching the baptisms and seeing these students rejoice was an amazing experience in itself, but what happened afterwards moved me beyond words.
After the baptisms, we attended another worship, where I was encouraged to remember our own baptism. I walked over to the baptismal, and as I stared at my reflection in the water, I relived every emotion from that day all over again. I clearly visualized the people who stood beside me and celebrated with me, me stepping into the water and feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation. But most of all, I remembered the feeling when I came back up from the water. It was a feeling of overwhelming peace and joy, a sense that something inside me had changed forever.
Standing there in that chapel, I reflected on the ways God had shaped my character, the blessings I received, and even the difficult moments that helped me grow.
I thought about the things that had been weighing heavily on me throughout the retreat - the romantic relationship I had been pursuing and the feelings of shame, fear, and comparison that have shaped my self‑image for years. As I prayed, I was reminded not to force things or try to control the outcome, but to allow things to unfold. I asked God to help me leave that version of myself behind and be someone renewed.
By the time the service ended, I felt something inside me shift again.
The retreat had already challenged my thinking about presence, identity, and trust. But standing in that chapel, remembering my baptism and praying through my struggles, made everything feel more real.
The person I had been before arriving at the retreat was still part of my story, but he didn’t have to define my future.
God had been reminding me all weekend that my identity doesn’t come from comparison, fear, or the opinions of others. It comes from Him, and if I could hold onto that truth after leaving the mountains and returning to everyday life, then the lessons from this retreat wouldn’t stay at camp. I would carry them forward.