I have been looking forward to something for a few weeks (or a few months, or my whole life, depending on how you look at it). But last night, I was told that the experience I was looking forward to might have to be rescheduled to an unknown time.
Now, I’m a big girl. And I’ve been practicing living my life with an open hand and living with the near-constant discomfort that I cannot see for the life of me what’s up ahead. And I’ve experienced disappointment before. And I’m a Christian who believes God is sovereign. And stuff like that.
And though I didn’t start to cry or anything, my attitude changed instantaneously. As soon as I read the text, sadness swept over me. Disappointment. A little bit of anger. At the situation. Maybe at the person a tad. (We talked it through.) And at Jesus. (We talked it through too.)
And I asked my girls to pray.
And I prayed. And I surrendered. And I told Jesus I wanted what he wanted more than I wanted what I wanted, but not really. (Yes, I tell him stuff like that.)
And I repeated over and over, God withholds no good thing.
Which was code for so therefore, if God withholds this, then it wasn’t a good thing for me right now, which I believed in my head but my heart was all mad about it, because just c’mon, throw me a freaking bone, will ya, Jesus?
So then I took a bath. And watched a movie. And had some tea. And went to bed.
And I woke up the next morning to no news. (No news is not good news in my mind.) And so I made some more tea. And drank my smoothie. And had my quiet time. And did some work. And through it all, I was a bit sad but telling myself that it was all going to be okay and that God withholds no good thing and trying to not be sad and trying to pretend I was fine and that if the official cancellation came in that I’d be totally okay, NBD. But I wasn’t. I was anticipatorily sad.
And then the good news came in that we were back on as scheduled. And I felt my entire body relax, as in my shoulders literally un-hunched. And my spirit lifted. And I was happy again.
And all of this makes me super mad at myself.
I hate…..and I mean, super hate…..that I can be so ridiculously unsteady in my emotions as they pertain to my circumstances. I’d give anything, seriously, to be steady. To be emotionally laidback. To take things as they come. To, you know, apparently live out what I claim to believe…..that God is sovereign and he loves me and he wants to bless me and that he’ll withhold no good thing.
But my ups and downs like that all within twelve hours seem to prove otherwise.
And so I went for a walk after the good news, and I was singing worship songs, because I WAS HAPPY apparently, and I was kicking myself knowing that had I been on that walk pre-good-news, I would’ve been singing but they would’ve been pleas, or tinged with sadness or frustration or disappointment.
But then I realized, I still would’ve been singing. And that’s no small thing.
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