You can find peace amidst the storms that threaten you.

So spoke Joseph B. Wirthlin, a man of faith and humility, offering strength to those beset by life’s trials: “You can find peace amidst the storms that threaten you.” His words are not the musings of one untouched by hardship, but the wisdom of one who knew that suffering is woven into mortal existence. Yet, he teaches that even in the wildest winds, even when waves crash upon the soul, there lies within us the possibility of calm, a stillness that no storm can take away.

The storm is the ancient symbol of chaos—of hardship, uncertainty, grief, and fear. Men and women of all ages have felt its force: wars that tear apart nations, sickness that weakens the body, betrayal that breaks the heart. And yet, Wirthlin reminds us that these storms, though mighty, need not conquer the inner spirit. For peace is not the absence of trial, but the strength to endure it. It is the eye of the storm, where quiet reigns though fury rages all around.

History gives us shining examples of this truth. Think of Viktor Frankl, who suffered in the darkness of the Nazi concentration camps. Stripped of home, family, and freedom, he found within himself a light that no guard could extinguish—the conviction that meaning could be discovered even in suffering. Though storms threatened his very life, he found peace in the strength of purpose, and that peace carried him through. His story is living proof that Wirthlin’s words are not mere comfort, but eternal truth.

The ancients, too, knew this lesson. Consider the tale of Epictetus, the Stoic philosopher born a slave, beaten and humiliated. Yet he declared that while his master might chain his body, his mind remained free. The storms of cruelty surrounded him, but within he built a fortress of calm. His teachings became a beacon for generations: that we cannot always command the storm, but we can command our response to it, and in that mastery lies peace.

The meaning, then, is both profound and practical. Wirthlin’s words remind us that we need not wait for the storm to end before finding rest. Too many souls postpone their peace, saying, “When this trial passes, I will breathe again. When this pain ends, I will live again.” But the wise do not wait for the calm—they create it within themselves. The one who learns this secret becomes unshakable, for they carry serenity as their shield, even through the fiercest gales.

The lesson for us is clear: cultivate peace not as a fleeting condition, but as a discipline of the soul. This requires prayer, meditation, gratitude, or whatever practice roots you in the eternal rather than the temporary. When storms come, breathe deeply, anchor yourself to hope, and remind yourself that no wave lasts forever. Seek small acts of stillness—a kind word, a moment of reflection, a song of courage—that protect your spirit even when your circumstances rage.

Practically, this means choosing perspective. When hardships rise, ask not only, “Why has this come?” but also, “What can I learn? How can I grow? What strength can I carry from this trial into tomorrow?” By reframing struggle, you diminish its power to destroy you. By seeking meaning, you create inner peace even in outer turmoil.

Thus, the words of Joseph B. Wirthlin endure as a torch for weary souls: “You can find peace amidst the storms that threaten you.” May we take them into our hearts, not as distant comfort, but as living guidance. For storms shall always come, but if we root ourselves in peace, they shall never sweep us away. And when the clouds at last break, we shall emerge not shattered, but stronger—like trees that have bent but not broken, like souls tempered into steel.