Sunday night I put the mix into the bread machine and anticipated a wonderful smelling loaf the next morning. Sadly this was not meant to be. As you can see in the picture something went terribly wrong. Up pops the ugly head of disappointment. I have a difficult time with disappointment.
Disappointment in childhood
If it is Thursday there is a high probability that Katie Beth will have a meltdown as we drive home from school. She has done this since she was 18 months old. It starts with a whiney voice and is followed by the list of all the things that have gone wrong in her world. It always ends with the phrase “And mom (sob) my heart is (sob) just so broken (SOB, SOB, SOB).” Between you and me this list can be pretty funny because horribly wrong to an eight year old is just nothing compared to horribly wrong to this forty year old. I usually pull over and join her in the back seat. She crawls in my lap and I hold her. Sometimes she is still stuck in her meltdown even after she has shared her pain. When this occurs I encourage her to cry. Let’s face it sometimes you need a good cry. Once the tears have dried we pray for God to heal her heart. From that point on all is well and her joy returns. Through this process my daughter has learned to grieve her disappointments.
During her meltdown I never feel as if my authority has been challenged. I do not wish she would go away and get it together before we can talk logically. I don’t wish she had a more positive attitude. I do not think “Man I wish she was more mature.” Instead I understand that this is part of bearing one another’s burdens. She is coming to me because she understands how much I love her. And I am honored she allows me to carry her heart before the Father’s throne.
Disappointment as a mature Christian
I think as a Christian I was unsure if I was actually allowed to be disappointed when things went wrong. In an effort to be a mature Christian I developed a pattern of burying my disappointment and moving forward with a tomorrow will be better attitude. Eventually my heart became scarred and trusting God became harder. I noticed that I had less patience and angered more quickly. This anger would come out unexpectedly. Oh my, passive aggressive is not pretty. I began operating out of my head which is a lousy way to reflect God’s love. As a Christian if I cannot offer my fellow man hope for their disappointed hearts then really what is it I am offering them? Seriously they would be better off with a good self-help book.
All of that to say I heard an amazing CD this week that touched on God’s ability to take our emotional vomit and turn it into jewels. I like the sound of that and so I have given myself permission to have meltdowns with God as needed. I believe he will listen to my list of all that has gone wrong in my world, hold me as I grieve, catch all my tears, and heal my heart too. And that is something worth sharing with my fellow man.
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