When Disappointment Comes - Chris Tibbetts

It started with a phone call from an old colleague, an old classmate, an old friend. His company had a position opening up in Florida and he wanted me to consider it. My qualifications were good, my friend’s recommendation was better. It would provide a remarkable increase in pay for our family and the work would be interesting, it would be difference-making. The only problem was, I loved my current job. It was stable, reliable, and allowed me to work from home. After much prayer and discussion with my wife, and continuous recruitment from my old friend, we decided to pursue the new opportunity. And as we so often do once we make that commitment in our hearts, I had assimilated the new job into my present reality. I could already feel how much I’d enjoy the new benefits. But then one day as the hiring process was moving along, I received a call asking me if I would consider relocating to take the same position in another region of the country. An internal candidate had expressed a desire to move to Florida, the transfer was done. We couldn’t relocate to the position she had vacated. We didn’t want to relocate. The new job, the new benefits, the enormous increase in salary were gone. My brain had already found many good uses for that money I hadn’t yet made. I was disappointed. I felt more than disappointed.

That feeling — the “more than disappointed” — seems to be the issue. There’s no specific DSM classification or ICD-10 code for disappointment. That’s because it’s not pathologic. It’s a normal feeling and it’s normal to feel it, even if it doesn’t feel very good. Yet, there is an unfortunate feedback loop that can make feeling more than disappointed feel like more than disappointment. To externally facing peers, even deep disappointment will probably only garner modest concern. More often, you’ll receive a superficial consolation and the realization that it all sounds much more trite externally than it does internally. It’s simply yours to handle and yours alone. You’ll feel better soon. Unfortunately, that’s generally where we can lean in on the situation. Whether by trying to “feel better soon” by engaging sinful patterns of coping, or by not caring to feel better soon by indulging sinful vindictive toward those who’ve disappointed us. Blame, victimhood, pride, shame can all be the sequelae. None of which contribute much to feeling better soon.

And yet, Paul tells us that he rejoiced in sufferings. We are to do the same. No doubt those sufferings were much more than disappointment, but they were almost certainly not less. How then to rejoice in such seasons? How could Paul rejoice in sufferings? He tells us in Romans that suffering produces endurance, endurance produces character, character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame. God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. It will not always be easy. It will not always be clear to us the refinement — the sanctification — that takes place. God’s love does not change, though. His purposes remain steadfast and Christ’s glory remains central. After all, while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. There’s nothing trite about that. How can we do anything but rejoice?

How then to grow in grace even through seasons of disappointment? As Paul, look to Christ. It’s a Sunday School answer. It’s also correct. Therein you will endure. Therein you will grow in character. Therein you will see — you will feel — your hope. It’s a feedback loop as well. It’s true that disappointment, at times, can feel like much more than disappointment. It’s also clear that Christ, who died for you while you were still a sinner, desires that you will grow in Christlikeness. That you will grow in hope. That’s what differentiates the believer from the non-believer in these seasons, isn’t it? Hope. For the Christian, it’s more than an aspirational platitude. It’s certain, for it’s anchored in the completed work of Christ on your behalf.

As is so often the case, missing out on the job that I was disappointed to miss out on, turned out to be a blessing. The team that was being built was eliminated less than a year later. Few workers were reallocated in the company. Most were left scrambling for alternate employment. I spoke with many of them years later and their frustration often sounded as if the cuts had been made weeks, rather than years, earlier. By God’s grace, this was an episode in which I could clearly see God’s work in me and for me during a season of disappointment. That visibility may not always be present, though his ends will most certainly always be the same. We pray for Christ to be glorified in all things. All things includes all things. Praise the Lord, there’s nothing to be disappointed about in that.