Early last year I read Lysa TerKeurst’s book, It’s Not Supposed to Be This Way. I cannot recommend it – or any of her other books – highly enough. Lysa, (I call her Lysa because even though I’ve never met her in person and only read her books I’m sure she’d want to be best friends, so I’m trying to make it less awkward for her when she reaches out and asks me to rent a summer place at the beach with her and her family) – has the apostle Paul’s spiritual insight in equal measure with Peter’s vulnerability and relatability. She loves Jesus, but she’s not afraid to admit she gets it wrong sometimes.
I recently started working my way through it again when I joined a Bible study led by a friend. The book resonated with me the first time, and I patted myself on the back for being the kind of woman who could shimmy into her Spanx and put her big girl panties on straighten her crown, take the lessons from the book, and confidently lead others through their heartache and disappointment because once and for all, I had it all figured out.
You’d think someone my age would be more self-aware, yet here we are.
If you go to Lysa’s website and search for the book, you’ll read: “Disappointments are always difficult to process. But when disappointments are mixed in with many other fears, hardships, and crises, it can all seem completely overwhelming.”
Ever been there? Disappointed? Lost? Confused? Afraid? Pissed off because you had a plan and life right now looks like you’ve been dropped into the middle of someone else’s story – one co-authored by Stephen King and Cormac McCarthy?
Yeah. Me neither. I was asking for a friend.
As I was looking through an old journal, I came across something I’d written the first time I read the book.
“Disappointment is a gift wrapped in barbed wire.”
It took me many years to learn that lesson. I’m a firstborn. I’m a planner and a rule follower. Justice and what’s fair are very important to me – I think that’s part of why I watch waaaay too much true crime documentaries. I like it when the good guys win, and the bad guys get what’s coming to them. I don’t really like surprises and my true, awkward self is never more evident than when I’m put on the spot.
I really like it when my plan and God’s align, but when my plans aren’t God’s plans, well, that’s another story.
The truth is, though I still struggle sometimes, I’ve learned that when life doesn’t go the way – let’s be honest – we’ve told God, not prayed or asked – we expected, God isn’t punishing us, He’s sparing us.
Many years ago, Roy and I were transitioning from one ministry to another on Long Island, NY. We had connected with a church, and Roy was to be the next pastor. We were thrilled. The girls could stay in their school, and we could stay connected to the community we loved – the position even came with a house and a yard. It was everything we prayed for and more. We really loved our life on Long Island and felt sure it was where we would serve out the rest of our ministry.
Then, out of nowhere, the church let us know they had changed their mind and would not be hiring Roy after all.
Roy was discouraged. I was devastated. It was so unfair. We did everything right. We had prayed about it every step of the way. We had been humble and honest and had already connected with some of the people. It felt like a cruel joke. How could God allow us to be brought so far only to be turned back? How could He take His hands off the wheel and send us careening over a cliff like this?
I was angry. I was sad. I was confused. Mostly, I was disappointed.
Two things happened over the next few months that showed me beyond a doubt that God hadn’t taken His hands off the wheel.
First, the previous pastor reached out to Roy and gave us the first indication that this wasn’t a missed opportunity but a rescue. On the day he and his family left to begin ministry elsewhere, he stopped at the end of the driveway, had the family get out of the vehicle, and knock the dust from their feet as a physical reminder of Matthew 10:14:
If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, leave that home or town and shake the dust off your feet.“
Dude. That’s harsh.
The leadership of the church – not all the leadership and certainly not all the people of the congregation – was so entrenched in their position and power that they were almost unteachable.
Several weeks later, they were still without a pastor, so they asked Roy if he would serve as their interim. He agreed. The first week we were there, one of the ministry leaders said, “Welcome, Pastor Roy. Thanks for helping us in this season.” I’m kidding! What he actually said was, “I don’t know what kind of plans you have but I was here before you got here and I’ll be here long after you’re gone.” And a good day to you sir.
My first week at choir practice, I walked in and did that awkward side/crab walk down the row. I had no sooner sat down than a woman stood over me and announced for all to hear, “You need to move. You’re in my seat.” You guys. I was sitting in a pew. Alone. Charming.
It was a rough start. Not all the people were unkind – in fact, we’re still in touch with some of them today, and they remain good friends. But over the months we served there, we learned a lot about letting go of what we think life should be like.
One of the most important lessons we learned is one Lysa talks about in her book.
Disappointment isn’t a reason to run away, it’s a reason to go a different way.
Had we not been denied that opportunity on Long Island, we would never have had the opportunity to move to Virginia and have the beautiful life we have today.
We’d never have been blessed with a pastor and mentor who invested in us as team members and loved and protected my family – something a lot of my friends in ministry have never had.
My kids wouldn’t have grown up in a diverse community of believers that challenged their world view nor would they have had youth pastors who pushed and pulled them out of their comfort zone to do things they never thought they were capable of.
We wouldn’t have been able to reconnect with a close friend who became family while we were all living on Long Island, nor would we have walked the darkest of paths and carried each other when the other couldn’t stand under the weight of our grief.
If you’re living in disappointment today, unwrap that gift. It’s going to hurt – there’s no way to get around it. You’re going to bleed, cry, and you’ll angry with God – maybe angrier than you’ve ever been.
But I promise you – I PROMISE you – if you’ll do the work, unwinding, unwrapping, pleading with God to help you and heal you, it’s worth the pain.
The scars on your hands will remind you of Another’s sacrifice to give you something precious and beautiful, a life you never knew you wanted.
Tracey Mac Lean Dowdy 