The Lord Bless You and Keep You: How Michael Learned to Receive God’s Peace in the Chaos

Frank Wible
Aug 12
2 min read

Michael had always been the kind of man who kept his phone in his hand, his mind on the next task, and his schedule packed tighter than his calendar could handle. He equated movement with progress and rest with laziness.

Man in a suit sits in a church pew, focused on a smartphone. Stained glass windows glow behind, creating a contemplative mood. — The blessing stopped him in his tracks.

At first, it seemed to work. He climbed the corporate ladder, bought a home, and provided well for his family. But beneath the surface, the constant pace was eroding his health and his relationships. His wife told him he was “there but not present,” and his kids had stopped asking him to play because they knew the answer.

One Sunday morning, running late as usual, he slipped into the back row of church just as the pastor was giving the benediction. The words caught him off guard. “The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.”

For some reason, the blessing stopped him in his tracks. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt truly kept, seen, or at peace. The words felt like water in a desert.

The next week, Michael showed up on time. And the week after, he came early. He started listening to the whole service, not just the end. But it was that blessing — Numbers 6:24–26 — that he kept coming back to, writing it on sticky notes and putting it on his bathroom mirror, dashboard, and phone background.

He began to realize that God’s blessing was not something he had to earn through more work. It was already being offered to him. The “keeping” was not about locking him in, but about holding him close.

Over time, Michael made intentional changes. He took one evening a week off from work calls to have dinner and game night with his family. He set aside ten minutes each morning to read and pray before reaching for his phone. He began ending his days by speaking the blessing over his wife and kids.

Family playing a board game at a wooden table, smiling and engaged. Warm kitchen setting in the background with soft lighting. — He began to see God’s blessing in the moments he used to rush past.

The changes didn’t erase every problem. Work was still demanding. Bills still needed to be paid. But something in Michael shifted. The blessing had moved from being words at the end of a service to being a truth at the center of his life.

Months later, a co-worker going through a personal crisis confided in him. Michael listened, then quietly said, “The Lord bless you and keep you.” The man’s eyes filled with tears. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

Michael smiled, remembering his own first time hearing it in a way that landed. It was more than a church tradition. It was a promise — one he now carried in his own heart and spoke into others’ lives.

And every time he said it, Michael knew it wasn’t just a prayer for them. It was also a reminder for him.

Which part of this blessing speaks to you most today?