The Sting Of Disappointment

Though the fig tree does not bud

and there are no grapes on the vines,

though the olive crop fails

and the fields produce no food,

though there are no sheep in the pen

and no cattle in the stalls,

yet I will rejoice in the LORD,

I will be joyful in God my Savior.

—Habakkuk 3:17–19

Recently a friend asked me if I ever get disappointed. I said yes and threw out a spiritually sound answer. Then the next day it happened. A huge disappointment whacked me upside the head and sent my heart sinking. I’d been asked to be part of a really big event—one of the biggest of my life—and then things fell apart.

Invited, thrilled, excited, honored, and included, turned into . . . uninvited, bummed, saddened, disillusioned, and left out. And while I still had solid spiritual perspectives to hold on to, my flesh just needed a minute to say, “Stink!”

Because sometimes things do stink. And disappointments come up that make us doubt God really does work for our good.

Right when I wanted to say “stink” a few more times, I spotted a bowl that’d been sitting on my dining room table for a while. My daughter Brooke found some caterpillars weeks before, put them in a bowl, and had been holding them hostage ever since. I mean, she’d been lovingly admiring them underneath a layer of cellophane.

I’d rather rejoice in what is and what will be, than wallow in what isn’t.

Wouldn’t you know that those caterpillars formed cocoons inside that unlikely environment. And then, as I was muttering, “Stink!” I glanced across the table to that bowl and sucked the word back down my throat.

The cocoons were empty.

Expecting glorious butterflies, I was confused when I got right over the bowl and closely examined the product of my little girl’s hopes for new life.

Moths.

I just had to chuckle. Yet another thing in my day that wasn’t quite right.

Or was it?

When Brooke spotted the moths, she was beyond thrilled. Grabbing my hand, she led me outside, ripped off the plastic barrier, and watched the beauty of tiny wings beating . . . beating . . . beating . . . and finally fluttering into flight.

Hmmmm.

As I watched Brooke’s sheer delight, I realized she couldn’t have cared less if they were moths or butterflies. Creatures that once only knew the dirt of the earth had just been given the gift of flight. Reaching, soaring up, up, and away.

And with that realization, this simple creature pulled up the corners of her mouth into a smile.

Her reaction challenged me to look at my situation with fresh eyes, much like our key verse does:

Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyful in God my Savior. (Habakkuk 3:17–19)

In the midst of all that’s disappointing or heartbreaking in our lives, we can fix our eyes on all that seems to be going wrong or we can choose to purposefully praise God with a heart of trust. A heart that remembers He is loving, He is good, and He sees much more purpose in our situation than we do.

I decided to take one step away from disappointment and take one step toward the good God was working through the loss of the speaking event. I don’t know why that amazing opportunity was offered to me, only to be taken away. But I do know this: I’d rather rejoice in what is and what will be, than wallow in what isn’t. After all, disappointment only stings as long as I let it.

Dear Lord, thank You for Your mercies and patience in this journey of imperfect progress. Forgive me for allowing disappointment to capture my heart so easily. Adjust my perspective and help me to see the things You have brought to life in me. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.