I still remember the feeling as if it were yesterday – I’d set my heart on a wooden, fold-out jewellery box.
I’d sought assurances that it would appear under the tree on Christmas morning and all looked set for the perfect gift! The anticipation as I unwrapped the box-shaped present was palpable. My (very limited) dreams were about to come true. And then I saw it. A red, leather jewellery box that didn’t fold out! In its defence, it was far higher quality, far more lovingly crafted and far more expensive than the box I had requested but it wasn’t what I’d set my heart on. Christmas was ruined: I fled to my bedroom and rehearsed a (somewhat over-dramatic) speech on how life at home was utterly unbearable. Nearly 40 years on, the trauma has subsided! More importantly, I’ve come to love the red leather jewellery box which sits in my bedroom even now. But, like many of us, I still struggle to deal with disappointment well.
Modern dissatisfaction
It’s fair to say that the disappointments most of us face these days are considerably less trivial! Whether it’s the desperation of being unable to attain that longed-for marriage, child or job; the pain of people letting us down or, in ministry, the hurt of members leaving, others falling into sin and a lack of spiritual fruit in (some of) those who remain – this fallen world is full of disappointment.
Most of us have a rather more nuanced response to disappointment than my self-centred childhood tantrum and, of course, there are occasions when people let us down and we have done nothing wrong, but the following scenario is possibly more the norm.
It starts with over-desiring something (often something good) in ways that encourage us to believe our whole world or worth hinges on its presence. Soon that morphs into a misguided belief that other people (and even God) have some sort of responsibility to give us what we want (or, at least, surely would want us to have it if they truly cared). We’d probably never say it out loud, but a quiet, sub-surface, entitlement creeps into our attitudes and actions. And then, crash, when God and His people fail to acquiesce to our plans, our expectations, our ‘needs’ – we feel that gut-wrenching agony of disappointment and openly (or inwardly) give in to the rage that goes alongside.
2020: the year to give up?
So what, as Christians, should we do? No doubt many of us will be looking back over 2019 in the coming weeks. Whilst there will, surely, be many reasons to be thankful, most of us will have a tale of disappointment to tell. Should we abandon our desires in 2020? Not unless they are ungodly. In Scripture we see the childless pleading for children, the church leaders planning for growth. Asceticism or fatalism are not the answers to disappointment. Maybe we should divest ourselves of emotional attachment to this world?
It might hurt less, but it’s not an option if we are be the intimately connected vine-people that God has designed. Self-protection bears no beautiful fruit. Maybe we should just give up in the face of the bigger disappointments? Well, the thought is understandable. Elijah certainly could relate, but God nurtured him through. Abandonment of relationships and ministry is rarely the appropriate response.
Maybe the writer to the Hebrews, who seems to know a great deal about relational strife and ministry pain, can help us here. After astonishing doctrinal exhortation, he ends with this prayer: ‘Now may the God of peace … equip you with everything good for doing His will, and may He work in us what is pleasing to Him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever’ (13:20-21).
It’s striking how much that prayer is about God, not about us. Whilst not excusing the sin of others, it focuses afresh on the call to trust God as we do His will – His work to His glory. And that means trusting that our circumstances are part of that plan. It’s still okay to cry. Sometimes it’s appropriate to respond with rebuke. But always confident that our circumstances are not the meagre scraps of a withholding God, but the generous, wise gifts of the One who is lavishing us with more kindness than anything we’ve ever asked for ourselves.
