By Osharye Hagood
Peace doesn’t always feel powerful—but it is. Especially when it’s planted in the middle of a storm.
The Calm That Confused Me
Rudy has always been the calm one in our relationship. Early in our marriage, I often misread that calm. In the heat of conflict—while I was expressing every emotion I felt he would sit there, quiet and still. Almost untouched by it all. To be honest, I thought it meant he didn’t care. It would be years before I’d understand what was really going on inside him—and who planted that seed in the first place. Her name was Irene.
Peace Is a Seed, Not a Reward
Marriage, in all of its beauty, is also a place where storms roll in, where soil gets dry, and where roots are tested. In the middle of this sacred ground, God calls us to plant peace. Not the peace that shows up after resolution, but the kind that must be sown in the heat of conflict, during miscommunication, and while the future still feels uncertain. Peace, after all, is not just a feeling. It’s a fruit. “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace” (Galatians 5:22, New International Version).
Peace is evidence that the Spirit of God is present not just in our personal lives, but in our marriages. But unlike quick fixes or emotional highs, peace doesn’t always come easy. It’s not a flashy seed. It often looks like an unremarkable one, buried in humility, covered in discomfort, watered by restraint, and hidden in quiet surrender. And yet, those are the very conditions in which the strongest trees grow.
The Power of an Unremarkable Seed
If you’ve ever seen a tree hundreds of years old, its trunk thick, branches vast, and roots stretching far, you probably wouldn’t think of the cracked, unimpressive seed it came from. But it’s true: some of the strongest trees in the world begin with what looks broken.
That’s how peace works in marriage. It often begins in moments that feel invisible: When one spouse chooses to lower their tone instead of raising their voice. When one listens, even when they feel unheard. When the goal shifts from winning the argument to winning the heart. “A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger” (Proverbs 15:1).
These moments might not feel powerful, but they are seeds. And seeds don’t grow by being seen. They grow by being surrendered.
Peace Has Reproductive Power
Peace planted once doesn’t just grow; it multiplies. Like a tree that bears seed after seed, peace in marriage begins to cultivate an entire culture. One decision to deescalate instead of retaliate can shape your children’s understanding of love. One prayer whispered amid-conflict can deepen your spiritual connection. One moment of grace can rebuild trust. And trust? It becomes shelter. It becomes shade. It becomes legacy. “Peacemakers who sow in peace reap a harvest of righteousness” (James 3:18).
The Legacy of Irene
I’ll never forget a lesson my mother-in-law, Irene Hagood (whose name literally means peace), taught me years ago. I was venting about a difficult conversation that had escalated, and she calmly said, “Once that person starts becoming argumentative and loud, just say, ‘I understand that you’re upset right now, and I’m going to allow you time to cool down because I can’t allow you to talk to me like that—I must keep my peace.’”
At the time, I didn’t realize how deeply spiritual that advice was. But now I see; that’s the seed. Not shouting back. Not matching energy. Not proving your point in the heat of the moment. Just planting peace with your words, your posture, and your boundaries.
Rudy: A Living Legacy
Over the years, I’ve come to see Rudy not as emotionally detached but spiritually grounded. He wasn’t avoiding conflict; he was protecting peace. These days, we even joke about it. I’ll ask, “Are you being patient, or just calm?” Because calm and peace can look the same—but they come from different places. Peace isn’t passive. It’s active. It’s a choice. It’s a seed. He is, in every sense, a living example of his mother’s legacy—peace not just practiced externally but planted deep within.
Tend the Soil, Trust the Seed
There will be days when sowing peace feels impossible. When your emotions feel louder than your faith. But that’s when peace becomes a practice, not a preference. “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone” (Romans 12:18). “Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts … and be thankful” (Colossians 3:15).
Your marriage is soil, the Spirit is the gardener, and peace is a divine seed placed in your hand. Don’t wait for peace to show up. Plant it. Water it with prayer. Feed it with patience. Protect it with humility. And watch how God uses what looked unremarkable to grow something unforgettable.
What Seed Will You Sow Today?
What’s one moment this week when you can choose to plant peace instead of defending your position? What “unremarkable” seed of kindness or humility might grow into something lasting? Where in your marriage can you water the seed of peace with patience and prayer?
Peace isn’t just a seed. It’s a strategy. It’s strength. It’s Spirit. And peace, just might be the generational tree where your legacy rests.
Rudy and Osharye Hagood have seven children and 12 grandchildren. Osharye is a women’s minister who is also certified as both a life coach and a health coach. Rudy is a pastor and professor with a background in social work. They love being married and love to bless both married and engaged couples.
Author: Christian Standard
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