The My Daily Warm-Up Studio

The path to peace often takes us directly through the storm. But, if you are like most people, you try to figure a way around it. We look for the exit, trying to escape. The distraction. The thing that will take the edge off just enough so we don’t have to feel it. The latest trend that offers so many promises but under-delivers.

We numb.

We scroll.

We overwork.

We over-control. We reach for whatever promises relief.

Just… make it easier.

But escaping pain and hardship is not the same as healing. And comfort is not the same as peace.

Comfort avoids. Peace anchors.

Comfort says, “Make this go away.”

Peace says, “I am held, even here.”

There is a kind of calm that comes from avoidance. From shutting it down. From stepping away. From buffering the discomfort.

And it can feel like relief…

for a moment.

But the storm is still there. Waiting. If we are honest, we know the only way is through.

We want peace? Or relief?

Real peace doesn’t come from escaping the storm. It comes from meeting God in the middle of it.

Not after it resolves. Not once everything makes sense. Not when the outcome is finally what we hoped for.

Right there. In the tension. In the uncertainty. In the ache.

Peace is not the absence of intensity.

It is the presence of Someone steady within it.

And sometimes, the very thing we’re trying to avoid…is actually pointing directly to what needs to be faced.

The pain isn’t always the problem—it’s often the signal.

The place where something is misaligned, unhealed, unspoken, or out of order.

Facing the reason for the pain means facing the obstacles in our way. Not to be crushed by them—but to move through them. Because more often than we want to admit…

the obstacle is the way.

Scripture doesn’t point us toward escape. It points us toward transformation.

“Consider it pure joy… whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” (James 1:2–3)

“We also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” (Romans 5:3–4)

“These trials have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith… may result in praise, glory and honor.” (1 Peter 1:6–7)

And Jesus Himself said:

“In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

Not you might.

You will.

Which means the goal was never to avoid the storm. But to learn how to stand in it…with Him. The hard conversation. The truth we’ve been avoiding. The pattern we keep repeating. The fear we keep managing instead of confronting.

That’s the doorway.

Because when we stop trying to go around it—and instead walk straight through it with God—the obstacle no longer blocks the path.

It becomes the path.

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him…” (Romans 8:28)

Not in spite of it.

In it.

Through it.

From a Musician’s Perspective

This shows up so clearly in music. The places we most want to avoid—are often the exact places we most need to go. The passage that feels uncomfortable under the fingers. The shift that never quite lands. The excerpt we dread in auditions. The feedback we don’t want to hear. Our instinct is to go around it. Play something else. Stay in what feels good. Avoid the exposure.

But growth in music has never worked that way.

The obstacle…is the way.

The only way to find freedom in a passage is to go straight into the tension of it. To slow it down. To sit in the discomfort. To get honest. To listen more closely. To stop performing—and start refining.

And the same is true on stage.

Musicians can become experts at looking composed while internally unraveling. We know how to hold posture. Smile politely. Perform under pressure. All while the nervous system is surging underneath.

But outward composure is not the same as inward peace. Like we talked about in the devotional last week Pretend peace is “seeming.”

It’s searching for just a hint of calm… while everything inside is unsettled.

And the truth is—peace is either there, or it’s not. It’s not something we fake our way into.

Peace is fruit.

Yes, it’s normal to feel nervous. To feel the adrenaline. To feel the weight of the moment.

Although, to not experience that is not evidence of peace. I know, confusing, right? Not experiencing the adrenaline and excitement and pressure might just mean I don’t care all that much.

Peace is the result of trust, trust when it IS hard and scary and really matters.

I’ve experienced the difference.

There have been moments I should have been shaking—moments I always used to—but I wasn’t.

Not because the pressure disappeared. But because my mind was finally anchored in the right place.

When the focus shifts—from self…

to sound…

to purpose…

to something beyond performance—the body follows. The hands steady. The breath deepens. The music flows.

Not because I forced it…but because something deeper aligned.

Something in us surrenders.

And when we stop trying to go around what’s hard…

and instead move through it with the right focus—something changes.

The atmosphere changes.

Not just in the music.

But in us.

A Personal Note (Fitness + Real Life-bringing it down to earth for a moment 😅)

This has been showing up for me in my own body lately. I had my gait analyzed last week, and Erin showed me something I couldn’t unsee. What I thought I was doing well…wasn’t actually engaging what needed to fire.

My glutes weren’t doing their job.

And once she showed me what it actually feels like to move correctly…it was so…well,…. It’s awkward. It feels unnatural. Slower. Less fluid. Almost like I don’t know how to walk… or run… anymore.😅

But I also know this:

This is the way forward.

Because when the right muscles fire, everything else benefits. My knees are protected. My stride becomes more efficient. My long-term ability to run strong—into the later decades of my life—becomes possible.

But I have to be willing… to look like I don’t have it together for a while.

And isn’t that where we so often stop? We avoid what we’re not good at. We don’t want to be seen struggling. Looking awkward. Feeling behind.

We try something once and say,

“That’s not for me.”

But what if…that’s exactly where we’re meant to go? What if the place that exposes our weakness is the very place that holds our growth? The awkward reps. The unfamiliar movement. The humbling feedback.

That’s the work.

And when we stay with it— when we repeat, refine, and remain teachable—something shifts.

What once felt like weakness becomes strength.

What once felt unnatural becomes integrated.

What once felt frustrating becomes freeing.

“Find excellence in our weaknesses.”

Not by avoiding them…but by going straight through them.

The Invitation

Maybe peace isn’t found by avoiding the storm.

Maybe it’s found by walking straight into it…

with God.

Not pretending.

Not numbing.

Not escaping.

But facing.

Trusting.

Surrendering.

Because what brings relief isn’t always what brings life.

And real peace?

It doesn’t come from things getting easier.

It comes from becoming anchored

in the One who never changes…

right in the middle of it all.