My parents’ neighborhood isn’t peaceful.

A few years ago, they moved, hoping to find the perfect community near family. My father, retired from a career in law enforcement, yearned for quiet.

But their new home is behind a main thoroughfare. On occasion, their backyard sounds like an Indy 500.

This past summer, a neighbor barracked the ends of the street so he could spin wheelies behind their house. Out front, another neighbor ran a private used car business. Customers and cars came and went throughout the week, every week. Next door, their neighbor worked with chemicals in his garage, blowing toxic scents everywhere. And many nights, parties of people bustled in and out of the home in the cul-de-sac. One day the front room burst into flames and an illegal marijuana market was exposed for all to smell and see.

My folks’ neighborhood was a retirement hurricane. But with my dad’s knowledge of law and his passion for justice, the neighborhood problems are now things of the past. Peace and quietness now reigns.

Regardless of outside chaos, my parents’ home is a resort to us. Perhaps it’s because my parents have been working on their friendship with Jesus and with one another for over 50 years. Regardless of the hurricanes, God keeps them at peace.