Category: disappointment

May 22, 2007 / disappointment, trust / 5 Comments »

Post-iceburg ponderings

Is it just me? Or do you sense a feeling of collective frustration and disappointment? I am aware, keenly aware, of the magnitude of burdens those closest to me carry. It seems like everywhere I look I see the absence of physical peace, unmet longings, unanswered requests. Perhaps this heightened sensitivity is purely because I, too, am at the growing place. And so I recognize it in everyone else.

I know we learn best and retain the most when stretched to the length of our being. But when does a powerful stretch not cause us to wince in pain? “Look what is happening to me!” I wail to the heavenly hands that pull me one way and push me the next.

Throughout last week I found myself awash in many cares and whispering the word “help” often throughout each day. No capital H, no exclamation point. Just “help.” help. help. help. It was a request, a prayer, but I sensed my need to hold back and actually scream it. I daresay it was my desire to have control over one little thing in my life: the volume and intensity of my surrender.

And as I moved through the week, medicating my overworked thinker with Advil and good English tea, I was moved by the breadth of the cares of so many around me. It was like the Titanic — the ship of our dreams had sunk — and there we were in the icy Atlantic, bobbing in our life-jackets, wondering if any would come to save us. Each in our little private world of pain and doubt and loss. help. help. help.

Then I read this little scapel-like piece of advice from Oswald Chambers’ “My Utmost for His Highest.” No sin is worse than the sin of self-pity, because it obliterates God and puts self-interest on the throne. It opens our mouths to spit out murmurings and our lives become craving spiritual sponges; there is nothing lovely or generous about them.

Yikes. Why don’t you just give me a paper cut and pour lemon juice on it?

Seriously, comrades. This wicked gem opened my eyes to see I am truly not treading water off the bow of a sinking ship. I am in the growing place, not the drowning place.

After I read this, I paged back to the May 8 entry of “My Utmost” which is highlighted and dog-eared in my version because I am routinely in need of reminding myself what God is like, especially when I come face to face with what I am like: Patience is more than endurance. A saint’s life is in the hands of God like a bow and arrow in the hands of an archer. God is aiming at something the saint cannot see, and He stretches and strains, and every now and again the saint says, “I cannot stand anymore.” God does not heed. He goes on stretching till His purpose is in sight, then He lets fly.

Look what is happening to me.

It is no picnic being in the bow of God. But I trust His aim. How can I not? And I want to fly true. I really do. I better stop wiggling then. Or He will just have to start over.

Okay, then. See you at the target, dear ones.

May 14, 2007 / disappointment, stress / 3 Comments »

Desserts in the Rear View Mirror

I’m not much of a women’s mag reader. There’s too many of them and too little time for reading, which is a sad fact for most adults. But I do notice headlines while waiting in grocery store lines. The former newspaper editor in me can’t help but zero in on headlines. So I found it worth noting that three of them, Family Circle, Woman’s Day and Ladies Home Journal, currently contain articles on beating stress, as if the month of May is as charged with stress as January is charged with regret. (January magazines always boast tips on losing holiday poundage).

I actually can’t argue with the timing. Life is a bit stressful on the Edge at this time in my life. And stress, unlike a few too many inches in January, is a selfish little monster, a gobbler of hours and energy. It’s far more complicated than calorie-indulging. Deeper. Thicker. And I’m of the mind that you can’t whisk it away by reading a page of tips sandwiched between Recipes for The Finicky and Summer Haircuts You’ll Want To Keep All Year Long!

But certainly there is a place to start. There’s always a place where you start.

I read the articles.

There was cross-over to be sure. And some no-brainer, across-the-board tips like learn to say no, exercise, get enough sleep, meditate, eat healthy.

But in the end, past the tips I hadn’t thought of before, like stop comparing myself to other people, lose the fascination with perfection, be thankful for what I don’t have (there are hundreds of heartaches I do not own, hallelujah), we have to learn to live with it. One of my all time favorite movies is The Princess Bride. Among a boatload of great lines is this one uttered by Westley as the Man in Black when Inigo insists on knowing Westley’s identity. “Get used to disappointment,” the man in black says. Get used to it. Why? Because it’s the nature of the planet we live on and the people we share it with. And how do we get used to something? By familiarity, dangnabit. The more exposure we have to that which addles us, the more we become its observer and less its slave. When I become an observer, when I can maintain perspective, everything shifts. It doesn’t change. But it shifts.

Desserts become sweet again.

And there’s always June to look forward to . . .