How to Have Peace in the Home

I’m focusing this message on family dynamics because the holidays are coming fast and relational stress rises for most people this time of year. Peace doesn’t “just happen.” Jesus didn’t bless peacekeepers—He blessed peacemakers, which means peace takes effort. Scripture calls us to strive for it, to seek it, and to pursue it. What follows is the framework I preached from a surprising text in Leviticus 14. It lays out a clear, practical path for restoring peace at home without pretending problems don’t exist or minimizing the cost of unresolved dysfunction.

Scripture Foundation

Matthew 5:9 ESV

⁹ “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.”

Hebrews 4:11 ESV

¹¹ Let us therefore strive to enter that rest, so that no one may fall by the same sort of disobedience.

Psalm 34:14 ESV

¹⁴ Turn away from evil and do good; seek peace and pursue it.

Why Leviticus 14 Helps at Home

Leviticus 14 describes what Israel should do if “leprous disease” appears in a house once they settle the land of Canaan. The backstory matters. Israel would inherit houses they didn’t build and fields they didn’t plant. As former inhabitants left, some hid idols in walls and foundations. God, foreknowing this, provided a diagnostic process: if diseased spots showed up on the walls—greenish or reddish—the priest would inspect, quarantine, remove infected stones, re-plaster, and if the problem persisted, tear the whole house down and carry it outside the city (Leviticus 14:33–45). It’s a strange passage at first read, but it functions like a Spirit-given framework for addressing threats to peace in the home. Not every household will need every step. I pray you don’t. But the steps are there when you do.

Inspect the Irritation

Leviticus begins with a simple acknowledgment: “There seems to me to be some case of disease in my house” (Leviticus 14:35). That’s often how loss of peace shows up—first as an irritation. Sometimes the pain is obvious and acute (like sewage backing up; you know why the mood is off). Other times it’s low-grade and chronic (like a toilet that keeps running or a comment you’ve normalized from a family member that quietly wears you down). Don’t go hunting for problems, but when something consistently disrupts peace, name it. “There seems to be something going on” is the first honest step toward healing.

I’ve lived both extremes physically: a gallbladder crisis that went from discomfort to surgery in days, and a shoulder injury that took three years to move from tolerable to intolerable. Homes are like that. Sudden pains are easy to identify; chronic ones require careful attention. Peace begins when we stop ignoring the irritation and decide to inspect it.

Evaluate the Environment

The priest looked to see if the problem was “deeper than the surface” (Leviticus 14:37). That distinction matters. Some irritations are spaghetti sauce on the wall; others are leprosy in the wall. Either way, they must be addressed—but if it isn’t deep, it isn’t hard to fix.

Plenty of peace-killers are surface-level environmental issues: uncoordinated schedules, constant noise, clutter, never-ending “What’s for dinner?” loops, device habits that keep everyone up too late, or the thermostat set to “start an argument.” Small changes can yield big peace. I discovered this when a TV’s placement forced me to walk through noise and eyes every time I moved from my home office to the kitchen. Moving the TV solved a constant agitation. Communicate. Adjust. Manage expectations. And don’t merge incompatible environments—build a small decompression zone between work and home so outside stress doesn’t hijack the house.

Contain the Contagion

When the issue is deeper than surface, boundary work begins. In Leviticus, infected stones were removed and carried outside the city (Leviticus 14:40). In family life, that often looks like isolating an issue so it stops infecting everything. Many global problems are actually local ones in disguise—communication patterns, patience thresholds, recurring topics that combust at the dinner table, or one “hot button” that spoils entire gatherings.

Boundaries are good. Walls build a house; boundaries build a home. Some boundaries go around a thing: we don’t use certain words in our house (for us, “shut up” to the kids is off-limits; “divorce” isn’t a conversational option). Some boundaries go around a place: Jesus modeled this when told His mother and brothers were outside wanting to see Him—“Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” (Matthew 12:48). That was a boundary about where and when certain conversations would (and would not) happen. You can love family and still decide, “We’re not doing that here.” Politics at holiday meals is a perfect example—if it explodes the table, don’t bring it to the table. Clarity is kindness.

Terminate the Terminal

Leviticus also names a “persistent leprous disease” that requires tearing the house down and carrying it all away (Leviticus 14:44–45). That’s the category no one wants to face: a pattern or relationship so destructive, so unrepentant, so unrelenting, that boundaries can’t contain it. At that point, preserving peace may require separation.

I do not say this lightly. Scripture rebukes leaders who “have healed the wound of my people lightly” (Jeremiah 6:14). Telling you to “just pray and wait” when a situation is provably destroying your home isn’t pastoral—it’s negligent. Pray, yes. Believe for breakthrough, yes. But peace is also stewardship. When a relationship routinely costs you 24 hours of recovery after a 30-minute call, when it changes you for the worse and destabilizes your spouse and children, it may be time to end access. If you get to that point, invite wise counsel. Count the cost. And remember the biblical order for marriage requires leaving and cleaving (Genesis 2:24). Your spouse comes before extended family—that’s not preference; that’s Scripture.

Everyone I know who has had to make this painful decision says the same thing afterward: “I should have done it sooner.” Peace isn’t a luxury; it’s a God-given condition under which your calling, your family, and your church thrive.

When You Can’t Change the Situation

Some of you are in circumstances you cannot change right now. I know what that feels like. As a teenager I lived through layers of dysfunction I couldn’t fix. I met Jesus—and in the short term, much got worse. Yet over time I learned what Philippians calls “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding” (Philippians 4:7). Things around me deteriorated, but by the Spirit’s power, I was being strengthened. When Paul begged God to remove his thorn, the Lord answered, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:8–9). If that’s you, hold onto grace. You may not see it this week or this year, but God finishes what He starts (Philippians 1:6). His name is a strong tower; the righteous run to it and are safe (Proverbs 18:10). The latter can be greater than the former (Haggai 2:9). In the meantime, do what depends on you: “so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all” (Romans 12:18). And remember Jesus promises life to the full (John 10:10)—peace is part of that promise.

The Framework at a Glance (No Shortcuts, Just Steps)

Inspect the irritation. Evaluate the environment. Contain the contagion. Terminate the terminal. You don’t need a press release to set boundaries, and you don’t need to make a scene to end a terminal pattern. You do need courage, clarity, and grace. Ask the Holy Spirit for all three. He will meet you in the process and lead your home into peace.