Disappointment — Where Are You, God? What Are You Doing?
Disappointment is something all of us experience.
We hope for something. We pray for something. We believe something is going to happen. Perhaps a door appears to be opening, a relationship seems promising, a ministry opportunity develops, or circumstances seem to be moving in the direction we have hoped.
And then something changes.
The door closes.
We aren't chosen.
Someone lets us down.
A prayer doesn't seem to be answered the way we expected.
The future we imagined doesn't happen.
Recently, as Sharon and I have been preparing for the next episode of Journeying In Joy, we have been studying disappointment. We don't believe we have reached the end of this study yet. In fact, this post is really a collection of some of the things we are learning along the way.
One thing is becoming increasingly clear:
Disappointment isn't simply something that happens around us. It can become something that happens within us.
Disappointment begins with expectation
There is usually something underneath disappointment: an expectation.
We expected a particular outcome.
We expected someone to respond differently.
We expected God to answer a prayer in a certain way.
We expected the door to open.
And when reality doesn't match what we expected, disappointment enters the space between what we hoped would happen and what actually happened.
That doesn't necessarily mean the expectation was wrong.
Sometimes the thing we wanted was very good.
That is important because sometimes Christians can feel guilty for being disappointed, as though disappointment itself demonstrates a lack of faith.
But Scripture gives us many examples of people honestly expressing sorrow, confusion, grief and unmet expectation before God.
The question isn't simply whether we experience disappointment.
The deeper question is:
What happens inside us when we do?
The road to Emmaus: “We had hoped…”
One of the passages that has stood out to us is the story of the two disciples walking to Emmaus in Luke 24.
Jesus had been crucified.
Their expectations had collapsed.
And they said something incredibly revealing:
“But we had hoped…”
— Luke 24:21
Those words could almost be the definition of disappointment.
We had hoped.
They had believed Jesus was the One who would redeem Israel. Now, from their perspective, everything had gone terribly wrong.
But there was something they didn't realize.
Jesus was walking with them.
Their disappointment had affected how they interpreted their circumstances, but their disappointment had not changed the reality of His presence.
That connects deeply with something we discussed in our first Journeying In Joy episode.
When we look back over our day—or even over painful seasons of our lives—we can ask:
“Jesus, where were You?”
And perhaps that question becomes especially important in disappointment.
Jesus, where were You when the door closed?
Where were You when I wasn't chosen?
Where were You when that person disappointed me?
Where were You when what I prayed for didn't happen?
The Emmaus story reminds us that sometimes Jesus may be much closer than we recognize.
Closed doors can reveal where our security rests
Steve Backlund of Igniting Hope Ministries said something that has become important in our study:
“Often a closed door is an opportunity for us to get deeper soul prosperity, to reaffirm our source is the Lord, not particular opportunities, not particular people within our lives.”
That is a challenging thought.
A closed door can reveal something.
Where was my sense of value coming from?
Was it from being chosen?
Was it from receiving someone's approval?
Was it from getting the ministry opportunity?
Was it from seeing the outcome I wanted?
Backlund goes on to describe those moments when we want to be chosen and aren't chosen as opportunities to deepen our “soul prosperity.”
That doesn't mean pretending the closed door doesn't hurt.
It means discovering that even when the door closes, Jesus hasn't left.
Disappointment can affect the body
Another part of this study that has fascinated us is discovering just how physical an emotional experience can become.
When the brain perceives loss, rejection, uncertainty or threat, the body's stress systems can respond.
Our breathing may change.
Our heart may beat faster.
Our shoulders or jaw may tighten.
We may experience headaches, stomach discomfort, fatigue or difficulty sleeping.
Sometimes disappointment produces agitation.
Other times it seems to do almost the opposite. We feel deflated. Exhausted. Withdrawn. Perhaps we simply want to shut down.
There is wisdom in learning to notice these things.
Instead of immediately trying to make the emotion disappear, we can become curious:
What am I feeling right now?
Where am I feeling it in my body?
What happened just before I began feeling this?
And perhaps most importantly:
What did I begin believing because of what happened?
The event and the meaning we give it
Imagine that someone doesn't choose us for something we deeply wanted.
The event might simply be:
I wasn't chosen.
But inside us, something else may happen.
I wasn't chosen.
becomes:
They don't value me.
which becomes:
Maybe I'm not valuable.
Now the disappointment has moved beyond an event.
It has begun touching our identity.
The same thing can happen when a door closes.
The door closed can quietly become God has forgotten me.
A delayed answer can become God isn't listening.
Someone's rejection can become I'm unlovable.
This is why simply telling ourselves to “get over it” may not bring healing.
There may be something deeper that Jesus wants to address.
Don't argue with the emotion—invite Jesus into it
One of the ideas that has become important to Journeying In Joy is learning not simply to argue with what we're feeling.
Instead, we can invite Jesus into it.
“Jesus, where were You?”
“What do You want me to know about this?”
We can ask the Holy Spirit to reveal what is happening inside us.
Sometimes there is grief.
Sometimes anger.
Sometimes rejection.
Sometimes fear.
Sometimes an old wound has been touched by a new disappointment.
And sometimes there is simply sadness because something we genuinely wanted didn't happen.
We don't have to pretend those emotions aren't there.
We can bring them into relationship with Jesus.
Releasing disappointment doesn't necessarily mean releasing the desire
This may be one of the most important distinctions we have discovered.
Surrender doesn't necessarily mean saying:
“I didn't really want it anyway.”
We may still want it.
The dream may still matter.
The relationship may still matter.
The prayer may still matter.
Instead, surrender might sound more like:
“Jesus, I really wanted this.”
“I'm disappointed that it didn't happen.”
“I'm giving You the hurt, rejection, anger and fear that have become attached to it.”
“Show me anything I have begun believing that isn't true.”
“And I choose again to find my security, identity and joy in You rather than in whether this particular door opens.”
That is very different from denial.
It is bringing disappointment into relationship.
Our bodies may need permission to come out of the stress response too
Because disappointment can have a physical component, processing it can involve our bodies as well as our thoughts.
Sometimes something as simple as slowing our breathing, relaxing our shoulders and jaw, taking a walk, crying, praying aloud, stretching, resting, journaling or talking with someone safe can help our bodies move out of a prolonged stress response.
The goal isn't to force an emotion away.
The goal is to acknowledge what is happening and create space for it to be processed rather than continually carried.
I picture disappointment almost like carrying a heavy backpack.
One disappointment goes into it.
Then another.
Then another.
Eventually we aren't simply responding to today's disappointment. We're carrying the accumulated weight of many disappointments.
Perhaps Jesus is inviting us to take the backpack off.
Not because those things didn't matter.
But because we were never intended to carry their weight forever.
Healing is often a journey
Some disappointments are relatively small.
Others involve broken promises, rejection, relationships, fathers and mothers, churches, ministries, marriages, careers, unanswered prayers or dreams we carried for years.
Those things may involve grief.
They may involve forgiveness.
Sometimes they require healthy boundaries.
Sometimes they require surrender.
Sometimes they expose places where it has become difficult to trust or love again.
Healing from those disappointments may not happen in a single prayer.
It may be a journey.
And perhaps that is exactly where Journeying In Joy comes in.
Psalm 16:11 says:
“In Your presence is fullness of joy.”
Our journey toward joy isn't a journey in which we pretend disappointment doesn't exist.
It is learning to discover the presence of Jesus in the middle of it.
Maybe the closed door isn't the end of the story
Those two disciples on the Emmaus road thought they knew how their story had ended.
“We had hoped…”
But Jesus was walking beside them.
Their interpretation of the story wasn't the whole story.
And eventually their eyes were opened.
Perhaps some of our disappointments are like that.
We may not yet understand the closed door.
We may not understand why we weren't chosen.
We may not understand the unanswered prayer.
And we don't have to manufacture an explanation.
Instead, perhaps we can begin with a question:
Jesus, where were You in my disappointment?
And then another:
Jesus, what do You want me to know now?
Maybe joy doesn't begin when every disappointing circumstance is finally resolved.
Maybe joy begins when, even while walking our own Emmaus road, we discover:
Jesus has been walking with us all along.
This is a preliminary reflection from our ongoing study for an upcoming episode of Journeying In Joy. Sharon and I are continuing to explore what Scripture teaches about disappointment, what it does within us, and how Jesus meets us there. After we record the episode, we'll return to this subject and share more of what we're learning.
Scriptures for further reflection: Luke 24:13–35; Psalm 16:11; Psalm 34:18; Proverbs 13:12; Romans 5:3–5; Romans 8:15–16.
