It seems to be the theme of our life these days…things just aren’t going as planned.
We didn’t plan on Michael dying.
We didn’t plan on struggling so hard to find a house.
We didn’t plan on our finances being so tight.
And now we are waiting…waiting to hear about another potentially major life change. Knowing that there isn’t anything we can do to make it happen. So we wait. And wait some more. In anticipation, but withholding hope because we have been rocked by disappointment so often these days.
In fact, disappointment seems to be a daily occurrence at our home. I hate to say that. I hate to admit how hard it’s been. I’m too much of an optimist most of the time to really tell you how hard things are.
But over the course of time I have learned not to discount the importance of disappointment. In my humanness I want to shrug it off. God’s in control, I say. And He is. But that doesn’t change the fact that disappointment exists. It exists in the weight of a sinking stomach, in deflated dreams, in the ache of unmet anticipation.
Sometimes I need to acknowledge it more. Give it validity. Because if I don’t, am I really dealing with it? Or am I just pushing it down? Because I don’t want to live a life that’s just on the surface. I want to be content down to the depths of my soul, and if that’s where I’m hiding the disappointment, then I need to root it out.
I can’t always dismiss it, so instead, today, I choose to acknowledge it.
I am disappointed.
But I won’t stay there.
Because tomorrow is a new day, and as Scripture says, weeping may endure for a night but joy comes in the morning…and my hope is in the Lord!