Disappointment is a difficult thing. The old proverb says it best, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick” (Prv 13:12). But what if you’re whole life is just one adaptation? “I had hoped for this, but I’ll have to make do with that.”
What happens when you’re the person who knows people who always get exactly what they want … but that’s not your story. Your story is one of pain and struggle and constant discouragement. You are the person who “For whatever a man sows, that he will also reap,” (Gal 6:7) just does not apply.
What happens to your faith when feel that God doesn’t care and that there’s actually a curse that’s been put on you? What happens when you’ve been patient and forbearing, and now, you’re just angry and bitter? Four letter words fall from your mouth like raindrops on a stormy night. You just want a break. You just want a break. You just want a freaking break!
Is there a hope? If there is, you can’t feel it. And yet others tell you of it. A place and time when all will be made right. A judge who sees your toil and has prepared a reward. A story — almost a myth — that silently swirls in the depth of your spirit, reminding you that there is a love…there is security…there is a place of rest. To believe it gives you reason to keep going, keep pushing. But to reject it gives you the right to give up. And you so want to just. give. up.
Because the truth is that hard to surrender or be grateful when you don’t even feel that you have the choice.
It’s in that tension — that space where time and space stand still that I often meet other people. And it’s in that space that I have found myself. And while there is no direction that can be given and there is no counsel that should be offered; I’ve often found that there is need for grace. Because, it seems, sometimes the problem is bad, but the fact that there is no grace available is an ever bigger problem.
Grace is the place that offers silence and a hug. The friend who’s willing just to sit in the mud with you. Grace is the place that transports you to a supernatural time out. It’s breathing space for a person who’s been suffocated for far too long. It’s kindness. It’s an unknown peace.
We all have a need for grace. For a place where the truth is not obliterated, but it doesn’t require immediate attention. A place where we can sit and acknowledge that life is hard and painful and no body has all the answers. And no one can make it right. But at least we can walk through it together.