Other than the Salty Stacy post, I’ve pretty much been quiet on social media about this weird new season of life we’re all living in. I think I’ve rolled my eyes more in the past few weeks than I have in my entire life. My heart and my head have been on two different sides of an imaginary fence, waging a steady war for my approval. If you know me well, you know my coping mechanism is to put pen to paper. I couldn't rest until these thoughts left my heart and were put somewhere else.
Disappointment
is a tough emotion to battle, especially in a time such as this with so much
uncertainty. It’s also difficult when so much that you read insists on making you feel
guilty about your disappointment. You see posts that remind you this isn’t all
about you, people are dying and that flattening the curve will save lives through social distancing. And here’s the thing, us disappointed people, we get
that. We want that. We don't think our disappointments are bigger than the lives of those compromised by this outbreak. Our hearts are breaking for the people around us. However, disappointment still remains.
We’ve
had a surprise trip planned for nine long months for Colby and have barely told a soul. We’ve laid in bed
at night planning how we would tell him, how we would execute this surprise,
how excited we were to take him on an airplane for the first time, seeing his
reaction when we told him one of his biggest dreams was coming true and about the sacrifices we had made to make
this trip happen. It was going to be our “Disney World” moment, but that’s not
where we were going. We aren't those people. The destination is still a surprise for “one day” so he will remain oblivious to it.
As I
had to cancel that (non-refundable might I add) trip today, after holding on to hope for weeks that the
world would be back in order, a part of me broke inside. My frustration with
this situation had come to a complete head and I just wanted to scream and cry
and hate everyone and everything in front of me. All the excitement, hopes, plans and memories we were so looking forward to would have to wait. Disappointment hurts y’all, deep. I felt the roots of bitterness starting to rise up within me. My mind wasn't a happy place, and so I knew I wasn’t alone.
I began to think about my sister, like many college students, whose degrees are up in the air. Funerals that have to be held
through Facebook live instead of being able to comfort those who are mourning in person. Brides who are having to cancel their wedding because no one is allowed to attend. Young mothers giving birth for the first time and not being able to have their
family there with them. Seniors who won't get to experience their prom
or graduation. Sons and daughters not being able to visit their elderly or dying parents in the nursing home. Churches struggling to operate. Seeing the effects on
the economy, on small businesses, on the elderly, on families due to people being laid off and
for the love of God, no freaking toilet paper in sight. My cancelled trip is nothing compared to some of these.
So
what’s the purpose of this blog other than for me to whine about disappointment? To be the voice of so many who are too scared to put it out there. To simply say it’s okay to feel that way and still have compassion
for what’s going on in the world around us. To understand that our sacrifices
will help save lives, but confess that our hearts are breaking in the process.
To find peace in God's promises that He works all things for His good but still
grieve what will never happen. You can equally agree with your head and your
heart and still be a decent person. There shouldn’t be any guilt in that.
So
have a little compassion for others today that are dealing with deep disappointment, no matter how big or small. We know
it isn’t all about us, we’ve been reminded repeatedly, but we are still
allowed to grieve memories that will never be. We’re doing our part with social distancing, even if the smile on our face is fake. And that, my friends, is A-Ok!
