For You, In Your Disappointment.
“I can’t go down there,” panted Much-Afraid, sick with shock and fear. “He can never mean that—never! He called me up to the High Places, and this is an absolute contradiction of all that he promised.”
She then lifted up her voice and called desperately, “Shepherd, come to me. Oh, I need you. Come and help me.” In a moment he was there, standing beside her.
“Shepherd,” she said despairingly, “I can’t understand this. The guides you gave me say that we must go down there into that desert, turning right away from the High Places altogether. You don’t mean that, do you? You can’t contradict yourself. Tell them we are not to go there, and show us another way. Make a way for us, Shepherd, as you promised.”
He looked at her and answered very gently, “That is the path, Much-Afraid, and you are to go down there.”
“Oh, no,” she cried. “You can’t mean it. You said if I would trust you, you would bring me to the High Places, and that path leads right away from them. It contradicts all that you promised.”
“No,” said the Shepherd, “it is not contradiction, only postponement for the best to become possible.”
Much-Afraid felt as though he had stabbed her to the heart. “You mean,” she said incredulously, “you really mean that I am to follow that path down and down into that wilderness and then over that desert, away from the mountains indefinitely? Why” (and there was a sob of anguish in her voice) “it may be months, even years, before that path leads back to the mountains again. O Shepherd, do you mean it is indefinite postponement?”
He bowed his head silently, and Much-Afraid sank on her knees at his feet, almost overwhelmed. He was leading her away from her heart’s desire altogether and gave no promise at all as to when he would bring her back. As she looked out over what seemed an endless desert, the only path she could see led farther and farther away from the High Places, and it was all desert.
Then he answered very quietly, “Much-Afraid, do you love me enough to accept the postponement and the apparent contradiction of the promise, and to go down there with me into the desert?”
She was still crouching at his feet, sobbing as if her heart would break, but now she looked up through her tears, caught his hand in hers, and said, trembling, “I do love you, you know that I love you. Oh, forgive me because I can’t help my tears. I will go down with you into the wilderness, right away from the promise, if you really wish it. Even if you cannot tell me why it has to be, I will go with you, for you know I do love you, and you have the right to choose for me anything that you please.”
It was very early morning, and high above them, hanging in the sky over the silent expanse of desert, was a young crescent moon and the morning star shining like a brilliant jewel close beside it. There Much-Afraid built her first altar on the mountains, a little pile of broken rocks, and then, with the Shepherd standing close beside her, she laid down on the altar her trembling, rebelling will. A little spurt of flame came from somewhere, and in an instant nothing but a heap of ashes was lying on the altar. That is to say, she thought at first there were only ashes, but the Shepherd told her to look closer, and there among the ashes she saw a little stone of some kind, a dark-colored, common-looking pebble.
“Pick it up and take it with you,” said the Shepherd gently, “as a memorial of this altar which you built, and all that it stands for.”
Much-Afraid took the stone out of the ashes, scarcely looking at it and feeling that to her life’s end she would never need a reminder of that altar, for how could she ever forget it or the anguish of that first surrender, but she dropped the pebble into a little purse or bag which the Shepherd gave her and put it away carefully.
Then they began the descent into the desert, and at the first step Much-Afraid felt a thrill of the sweetest joy and comfort surge through her, for she found that the Shepherd himself was going down with them. She would not have Sorrow and Suffering as her only companions, but he was there too. -Hannah Hurnard, Hinds Feet On High Places
When I was in high school, I read this allegory that really impacted my heart. Hinds Feet On High Places is a story that has changed my life and shown me the beauty of believing in God and having a relationship with Him. It’s a story I always recommend to friends, and I am absolutely recommending it now for my readers.
I find so much of myself in the character, Much-Afraid. I often read this passage of the story, and I can't help but find myself getting teary eyed as I read about Much-Afraid and her disappointment. It reminds me of conversations I have with God in private—those conversations where my expectations were unmet, and I’m left disappointed with the outcome. Moments where I’m tired, exhausted really, and it seems like nothing is going the way I want it to and I’m always left sitting on the sidelines cheering for other people and celebrating their victories and good news. For once, could something good happen to me? Could I have something to celebrate to give me some hope that I’m doing something right? Can I stop feeling like I never measure up? Can I stop feeling the weight of disappointment?
Sometimes I can see the promise in front of me, but then I’m thrown back into the wilderness of confusion and hurt, and I don’t understand why it’s necessary. I grit my teeth, my fists clenched in fury, and I let God have it. “When is it my turn to have the things I’ve always dreamed of? Can’t you see how hard it is for me to keep wandering in isolation?”
But like Much-Afraid, even though it doesn’t always make sense at the moment, I have to wipe my tears and keep moving forward, trusting that the answers I want are within my reach. God’s love is always so present, even in my frustrations and disappointments.
I wrote these words in an Instagram caption in December of 2019. I was so afraid to be vulnerable on this level like that, especially when most use social media to post their highlight reels. Even though I wrote these words over six months ago, they have been the very emotions I have had all throughout the COVID-19 pandemic. Fear, worry, anxiety, stress, and so much disappointment. I have been lonely like never before.
Awhile back, I tried reaching out to friends to explain my overcomplicated feelings. I shared my feelings of loneliness. I shared how (and I can’t believe I’m going to admit this out loud, but someone out there knows exactly how I’m feeling) I feel invisible. Like God and all kind, available, godly men overlook me. Wow. I hate admitting it out loud. It’s embarrassing for me. Most people laugh when they hear that and say, “But you’re so young! You have so much time.” Yeah, sure, but it doesn’t always feel that way when you’re surrounded by couples. I have spent nearly three years working on myself and investing in my dreams. I’m trying to be the best version of myself I can be. I know I have much to work on, so I’m constantly working through my issues. In the past three years, I have put myself out there a few times and have experienced deep hurt, but I haven’t been in a REAL relationship in a long time. I’ve had a lot of “almost” attempts, and it’s become tiring.
The pandemic and the social distancing, along with quarantine, made me feel trapped in this disappointment. All my feelings of loneliness and wishing I had someone heightened. I have spent so long believing I am doing something wrong since it hasn’t happened for me yet. All around me, people are getting together, getting engaged, and getting married. I am a huge romantic, so while I cheer on and celebrate these exciting moments for others, something in my heart breaks every time it doesn’t happen to me. I am constantly having to put myself in check and evaluate my feelings and what it stems from. I have to take my feelings to Jesus and let Him give me a reality check. I can’t be selfish. It’s not all about me. I am whole on my own. I am not a damsel in distress. My feelings come in waves: one moment, I feel so good about myself and I’m proud of who I am becoming, and another moment I can be so hard on myself, blaming myself for relationships or things that didn’t work out. But I don’t believe it’s wrong for me to feel disappointed and hurt when something I’m desiring for myself hasn’t happened yet. It’s human to feel this way.
When reading up on what disappointment stems from, I found a great article that explained it well:
“Disappointment is a profound way in which sadness is experienced. People seem to do whatever they can to avoid recognizing that they are disappointed and will twist their thinking every which way to not recognize a true disappointment. Disappointment is the experience of sadness involving unfulfilled hopes or expectations. When you consider what might have been, in contrast to what exists in the present, you may experience disappointment. Disappointment comes with finality—the recognition that you don't have, didn't get, or will never achieve whatever it is that you wanted. Disappointment forces you to admit that you did not get what you wished to have, and it is actually easier for you to protest with anger than it is to encounter your sadness about the course of events. Disappointment accepts reality (https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/intense-emotions-and-strong-feelings/201111/expectation-disappointment-and-sadness).”
Disappointments can come in all shapes and sizes. You might feel disappointed about a relationship or lack of. You might feel disappointed because you feel like other people have opportunities to elevate in their careers. You might feel disappointed because the thing you’ve been praying and believing for hasn’t happened yet. You might feel disappointed because everyone around you has a reason to celebrate and nothing good has happened to you in a long time.
I was flipping through my Bible randomly last week, and I stumbled upon this verse. It was exactly what I needed to hear after all the disappointments I’ve been holding onto for a while now.
“I knew you in the wilderness, in the land of drought.” -Hosea 13:5
When I read that verse, I immediately thought of Much-Afraid as the Shepherd told her to trust Him as they went through the wilderness and desert. God always brings me back to this moment of the story. In a time where I have felt so invisible while going through my own version of the wilderness, it’s nice to know God has never once forgotten me. He knew and cared about me through it.
I know many feel like they’re stuck in this sort of season too, and maybe you don’t speak about it because you feel like nobody understands. Or perhaps you’re still trying to understand your feelings. I want to talk directly to you and encourage you, friend: God sees you. He understands. Our pace is different than everyone else’s, and that’s more than okay. You’re not invisible, and you don’t go unnoticed. You have much to offer, and the world needs what you can bring to the table. I don’t know what’s causing your disappointment, but God does. I really believe God is a listener and a promise-keeper. I do believe He gives us the desires of our hearts, but there’s a catch. I need this reminder more than anyone else. Psalm 37:4 doesn’t just say, “He will give you the desires of your heart.” It says, “Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.” What does that look like? It means finding fulfillment and peace in Him, not in anything else, like in a relationship, a person, a job, a car, a beautiful home, or in money.
Oof. Talk about conviction! I will have to chew on my own words and process all I just said because it came from God, not me.
One last thing: I hope you find a way to believe in your heart that you’re valuable and that you are more than your disappointments, fears, and worries. I hope you have a good community of family and friends who point you to the truth when your mind screams lies at you. I hope when you look back on your life, on the altars you built before entering the wilderness, that you see God, the Good Shepherd, who walked with you into the wilderness, into the desert lands.