I am disappointed.
You see, today was supposed to be the celebration of my ordination. There was going to be friends, family, potluck, affirmation of the calling God has placed upon my life.
And it’s not happening.
It’s not happening because of the reason that many things aren’t happening right now, COVID. My daughter had a positive case in her class so is self-isolating until Friday.
There was no better choice. I would not have this huge event in my life without all of my children there and right now, her self-isolation is what is required. This is the choice that best fits how we as a family have chosen to live in the world right now.
And it’s really difficult.
I’m sitting at home in cutoffs and hoodie, rather than my dress and heels, watching the church service online with my beloved daughter. The church service that looks very different than it did 5 days ago.
I’m disappointed and it doesn’t feel good. Disappointment is an emotion that sits discordantly with us. Filled with wishes and dreams that didn’t seem to manifest the way we wanted them to. Tears in the shower and a stiff upper lip, wanting people to notice but not wanting people to be too nice to you because then the tears won’t just remain in the shower.
The impulse with disappointment is to try a number of different strategies to help ourselves not feel the depth of the emotion. It doesn’t feel good so why would I want to stay in this emotional place of being?
Maybe your impulse is to immediately brush aside, to look at all the reasons why you shouldn’t be disappointed. ‘It could have been worse.’ ‘Maybe this is all for the best anyway.’ I wonder, though, how deeply the healing happens in the long term if we try to skip over and cover our disappointments to escape the momentary pain.
Is it best for us to ‘get over’ our disappointments so quickly?
The older I get, the more convinced I am that our emotions are a journey. A journey that encourages us through those valleys in order to fully process what’s going on inside of us.
But, you might say, if we too fully linger in our emotions, aren’t we wallowing?
Sometimes. Sometimes we get caught up in wanting justice for our disappointments and feel that the disappointment can’t abate unless we feel the situation has been resolved. Sometimes our disappointments give us identity and attention and oh, that is difficult to release if we feel there is nothing to replace it. And sometimes, we just don’t know how to get over it so all we can do is feel stuck in our disappointment.
As I sit, disappointed, I recognize all these swirling around within me. How do I sit with and move through my disappointments, in a way that is healing and honoring?
There is importance in acknowledgement. Acknowledging that yes, I am disappointed and letting the phrase sit there out in the open without me adding the ‘but’. ‘But it could have been worse.’ ‘But this might all be for the best.’ ‘But it doesn’t really matter.’ ‘But others have it worse than me.’ ‘But I don’t have the right to complain.’
Disappointments are a type of grief. The loss of something, the death of a dream, a transition that you weren’t expecting. Disappointment feels the same in the body as grief can.
Disappointment, like grief, needs to be acknowledged without judgement.
I met with my spiritual director this week, cried my disappointment out in her presence. Her advice to me was to voice my regrets. Because regrets allow us to name our disappointments and regrets, we can live with.
So here are my regrets as I journey through my disappointment.
I regret that my ordination celebration couldn’t be this Sunday.
I regret that COVID means not all of my family could attend and might not be able to attend.
I regret that things are hard right now.
I regret that I and my daughter can’t be in person with our church family today.
I regret that this has felt like a year of frustrated celebrations.
And here are my rejoices.
I rejoice that our family is safe and healthy.
I rejoice in friends who check in today.
I rejoice in online availability of church services and the Body of Christ who surrounds us.
I rejoice in those close to me being willing to reschedule.
I rejoice in a God who doesn’t keep our calling to a schedule.
I rejoice in the exercise of patience and understanding.
Most of all, I rejoice in a Jesus who was disappointed and knows how that feels. A Jesus who knew what it meant to be disappointed in others, many of them close to him. And a Jesus who forgave them and moved through his disappointment.
Where does that regret and rejoice place leave me in my disappointment? Where might it leave you in yours?
In the combination of honesty of feeling and intentional gratitude, that uneasy ebb and flow of intentionality in both areas. There are times when you and I will cry and rail. Times when we will feel an ease at the good around us. Times when we hold them both.
I’m receiving the comfort of Holy Spirit and the comfort of others. That’s what I can do right now. Letting God guide me and sit beside me in my journey through disappointment. It’s enough and more than enough.
This won’t always feel like this, disappointment will fade, my perspective will change. But for now, I’m disappointed.