Disappointment

Disappointment is an interesting feeling.

One moment it seems as though your day couldn't get any better... and then it doesn't. It gets worse.

Imagine, you have a hope that has taken time and effort to develop, and then one phone call later... well, it's up and disappeared on you. Not a single trace left. Nada. Zip.

It's numbing at first. I thought surely they would call back and say it was a mistake. I was so sure that my efforts would amount to something, that I would somehow be able to help myself all on my own.

Who do I blame, if anyone? With so much expectation for the success of my own efforts, the only person I can fairly blame is myself. But then, the numbness wears off, and I realize that I can't withstand any more of my own accusations. I'd break down before they got very far.
The blame game was over before it began.

After the numbness came question after question... after question. So many kept coming that I could barely think, let alone write the essay that was due the next day! How?... Why?... Can I?... Could it really?... And after every possibility was exhausted, they began all over again.

Between my wearying dismissal of questions and deliberate evasion of blame, there was no way I could endure the questions, the constant suggestions, that would surely follow my admission of failure and my selfish want of pity... In short, I did not want to talk about it. With anybody.

Contrary to what it seems, this is not a cry for pity. It is only meant as a way for me to organize my feelings and share how God has grown and upheld me. Once more, my pride got the better of me, and I was humbled. I was taught not to rely on my own ability to provide, but on God's promises for provision and calling. How can I bring the Kingdom to Earth if I allow my own abilities and confidence to supersede my faith in God?

Because of this experience, I am no longer distraught at the mention of my own failure. It merely serves as an awesome reminder for humility and an opportunity in which God can work!