And a resolution that might make the most difference for the most people
By George Valadie
There were three of them. At least I think there were three of them.
I should probably know since I was driving and in charge of paying attention to the road, but they went by so fast. And I really hadn’t been expecting to see anyone there.
Not on that overpass anyway.
To be fair, I was a little road weary, since we had set out from our daughter’s home in Little Rock way earlier than I would have preferred. We had already plowed through nine hours straight, but Nanc said we had to get home in time to get Gipper out of doggy daycare.
She hates thinking about him not being able to sleep in his own bed—which also happens to be our bed. And did I mention his 80 pounds of sprawl?
So, the two of us got up early, some of us reluctantly, and drove all day back to Chattanooga. We were just minutes from our exit when I saw them perched there over I-24.
Like I said, they flew by quick, but I believe I’m pretty sure I saw a mom and her two kids.
Three things caught my attention: her brightly colored toboggan, some sort of stick she was waving, and the sign her son was holding.
“Peace on earth”
Did I mention it was freezing?
The unseasonal warmth we had been enjoying only a day before was gone. The temperature had dropped 40 degrees in 12 hours. And I hadn’t even packed a coat.
Thankfully, these three seemed dressed for the weather, but still, it was pretty darn cold to have been there for any length of time.
But there they were, waving to all who passed underneath, spreading their message, “Peace on earth.”
No politics, no religion, no hope of knowing if their efforts would make a whit of difference in even one of the drivers who—like me—were speedily going wherever we were going to do whatever it is we were planning to do.
And if I were a betting man, I’d wager not a single one of us had “peace on earth” on our agenda.
I won’t lie, my first thought was this woman was a nut.
For her attention-getting, for dragging her kids out there during their Christmas vacation, for forcing them to endure the cold. And especially for the message she had chosen to promote.
Not that it’s a bad or pushy one, and it’s certainly not offensive to anyone. Not anyone driving by, not anyone living on the planet. Peace is a good thing, right?
And if you’re going to spread a message, you’d be hard-pressed to find a better source: “Glory to God in the highest!” sang the Bethlehem angels, “and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”
But still, she’s a little nutty, don’t you think? Or maybe out of place? Tilting at windmills? Well-intentioned but more futile than not. Kinda like all those John 3:16 signs that show up at so many football games? Do they make any difference at all?
But there she was, reaching out to the multiple lanes of 5 o’clock traffic, preaching a 2,000-year-old message that one could argue has been seldom heeded—if ever.
Was this woman on a mission? Or did she lose a bet? Is she in a cult? Was she trying to teach her kids a lesson? Or had some unusual event recently impacted her life inspiring her to spend her afternoon in just this way?
Ironically and God-sent for sure, less than 24 hours later, the choir at our Mass sang an old-time favorite, “Let there be peace on earth.”
And it hit me—why didn’t these people seem like nuts? But they didn’t. Same message … totally different reaction.
So, with a moment to ponder, a touch of perspective, and possibly a slight shove from the Holy Spirit, I completely reversed my opinion about this anonymous messenger. I went from being cynical and confused about her to being hopeful and inspired by her. I mean I’m not planning to join her or anything, but she just may be what this world needs. Certainly more like her.
After all, though a bit of a lone wolf, she was not unlike John the Baptist, “the voice of one crying in the wilderness…” And if you’re going to emulate someone, who better?
We sure need it, don’t we? Peace on earth.
We understand our limits. Most if not all of us are unable to impact what happens across the world. Ukraine. Gaza. Nigeria. Haiti. And maybe that’s the peace she seeks but I don’t think so.
I prefer to believe she was referring to the day-to-day moments of our lives. Life among our families. Our workplaces. The stores where we shop and the restaurants where we eat. The places where we spend our days with the hordes of people we have a genuine ability to impact.
Maybe it’s the tone of our e-mail that can change—and yes, admit it, e-mail does have tone. It did in our head when we wrote it. Or maybe it’s our social media posts. Or how we speak to the waitress who didn’t really cook the overcooked meal she’s been forced to set before us.
Maybe it’s how we wave at the drivers who cut us off or if we wave at all. The words we choose to speak—to our spouses, our parents, our kids, our co-workers, the clerks, and the customer-service reps on the other end of the phone.
Peace has so many enemies. And if we’re truthful, so many of those we can claim as our own. Who among us hasn’t dabbled in a little sarcasm, anger, crankiness, entitlement, manipulation? And a few hundred more such sins that cause a little less peace in someone else’s life?
Before 2026 gets too far into the rearview mirror, may we join in sharing—and acting on—her message. HIS message.
Peace on earth! May we all be a little more nuts.
Dear God—War is just way too big for most of us. Please inspire those who have the power. May they also have your will. Amen.
George Valadie is a parishioner at St. Stephen Church in Chattanooga and author of the book “We Lost Our Fifth Fork … and other moments when we need some perspective.”