I love Sandra Bullock, or Sandy as she's called. I saw her movie, "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close," a few years ago, but with my extremely poor memory and incredibly full brain, I couldn't tell you one thing about it, except for this one line I wrote down in my commonplace book:
I'm even glad I have my disappointment, which is better than nothing.
I don't know what the person in the movie, whomever it may have been, was disappointed about. No clue. But at the time, I liked that line, and I still do.
I should ask my pastor if there's a Hebrew word in the Bible that sets God in relation to our disappointments. I know there's Jehovah-Jireh (God our Provider) and Jehovah-Rapha (God our Healer), but maybe there's also Jehovah-Something (God our One-Who-Doesn't-Disappoint-Even-When-We-Are-Totally-Disappointed).
I have experienced some strong emotions in the past week, over something that is now out of my control, and although I know it would help me to process it all right here, right now, in writing, I can't. 1) It still feels too painful. 2) I feel a responsibility to protect some of the people involved in what happened. It's one of those things that's nobody's fault really. It was just a series of circumstances that were going along, and going along, and life was a breeze in this respect, until suddenly the wind picked up and got out of control and blew my perfect little house down.
Thankfully it's nothing to do with mine and TJ's marriage or an errant child. It's not even anything to do with those last-blogged-about open windows. But the metaphorical wind blew this new window open for sure.
I've cried and cried. I've felt anger, sadness, longing, regret. I'm mostly disappointed though. And now I've been trying to come to terms with the fact that even in my disappointment, God can make a way for me to be okay. He can still shine in my heart, illuminating my mind for how to move forward right through the pain. I pray the Holy Spirit keeps me from bitterness.
Sometimes when I'm browsing my commonplace book and see this quote from the Sandy movie, I think about Ian, my friend in prison. I think about how disappointed he must feel that 25 years of his life have to be spent away from all the people and things he loves. But then I also feel grateful that he didn't take his life like he intended to do right after the crime had been committed. Ian's brother convinced him to spare his own life and to make the next choice a good choice. So Ian turned himself in to the police that night, and the rest is history. Ian is alive to be part of the history that is being written this very day. Even though he has the disappointment, Ian has life and hope. He also has time on his side now. Time to process. Time to heal. Time to forgive. Time to rise above the disappointment.
I do too. I can let God do whatever work needs to be done in my heart through this swampland of disappointment. I hope you're not too disappointed that I've had to remain vague. But ask me about it in person sometime, after we let some time pass, and hopefully I'll have a story of redemption to tell, orchestrated by the God who never disappoints.