It’s not an unfamiliar term, “Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men,” but until Sunday, I hadn’t heard this song, which references another Christmas Carol and the lyric.

Words and music by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow & John Marks

I heard the bells on Christmas Day

Their old familiar carols play

And wild and sweet the words repeat

Of peace on Earth, good will to men

And thought how as the day had come

The belfries of all Christendom

Had rolled along the unbroken song

Of peace on Earth, good will to men

I can hear them

I can hear them

I can hear them

And in despair I bowed my head

‘There is no peace on Earth’ I said

For hate is strong and mocks the song

Of peace on Earth, good will to men

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep

God is not dead nor does He sleep

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail

With peace on Earth, good will to men

I can hear You

I can hear You

I can hear You

I could still hear You

The world can hear You
I started thinking about the promise of Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men, and whether it’s really a possibility. 
I used to think peace wasn’t possible because our country was always at war. Stories of war in other countries remains a constant on the evening news. Always war, never peace. Certainly no ‘Good Will.’
But is war really half a world away? Or does it exist not only in my own town, but in my own home, in my own office? War is everywhere, but sometimes the weapon of choice is not grenades and tanks, but words and actions. 
I don’t think it’s too bold to say Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men will not happen unless war no longer exists in the tiniest interactions of every day life.

Inside churches, where pockets of peace should exist in the world, dissension reigns. Someone “should” believe a certain way, behave another, tithe more, drink less, and we go to war. Outside churches, someone doesn’t believe in the same God, and we go to war.

On the roads, where we should extol the miracle of machinery, anger and mayhem drives our vehicles.

In the line at the grocery store, in the kitchen at home, everywhere is war.

I read a fellow Survival blogger’s post the other day about an interaction he had with someone at a grocery store. They made fun of the amount of canned milk he had loaded in his cart. He fired back with an angry response. 

If we are to become united on the other side of a disaster, how can we prepare our attitudes for peace like we prepare our shelves for food?

How tragic to not only endure a catastrophe, but to do it with the same hearts and minds that guide our decisions today? Do we want to survive only to recreate the anger, hatred, murder that exists now in our world?

I am quick to snark, and I have a razor tongue. I don’t think a day has gone by that I haven’t said something I regret. I’ve lobbed grenades at my opposition simply because I was committed to my mistake. I want to be right.

My food storage is full.
My water filtration system is in place.
My heart is not ready.
My soul is not prepared.
I am not at a place of peace.

Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men.