Holes of Disappointment

I imagined having Sarah, the mother of Issac, over for tea again...

Our neighbor's roof was being repaired so I apologized for the noise. She laughed and said “Fixing broken things can be a loud process. I’m just glad they are fixing it now before it collapses.” I asked her, on her hard days of waiting, if she ever struggled with spending money on random things she knew she didn’t need just to feel in control of something. She shook her head and laughed in an attempt to relate and said “Yes, I have. But self-soothing is equivalent to fixing that roof with play dough. Unreliable and temporary.” ⁣

We talked about fully feeling pain and the privilege it is that we don’t have to carry it with us forever. As she said that, I imagined packaging up all of my moments of sorrow into a brown box soaked in tears, duct taping it shut, and handing the soggy package to Jesus and Him taking it and responding with, “Thank you for trusting me with this lovely gift. I’ll take good care of it, I promise.”⁣

Sarah left the house but her words continued to echo in my ears for the rest of the day... “Fixing things can be a loud process. I’m just glad they fixed it before it collapsed.” ⁣

You see, disappointment has this sneaky way of disguising itself as a loyal and old friend. And sometimes we get to the point where disappointment is more comfortable than Hope. But by taking the small intentional steps of fixing the small holes of disappointment, you will avoid the collapsing of a hopeless heart. And if the process is loud, whether that be yelling or weeping, Jesus loves when we give Him with the honest thoughts of our hearts. ⁣