This past Sunday was a day I let it all out.
My disappointment, that is.
I aired out all my disappointments…
Directly at my God.
Yes, my Heavenly Father. The One I owe my life to, the One I can’t wait to see face to face in heaven, the One I live on this earth for.
How could I do such a thing?
How could I not?
I needed to have an honest conversation directly with Him. He already knew how I was feeling anyway. And it was not some petty complaint about life, it was downright an ugly cry I’ve been fighting for weeks.
So I let myself go there…as I drove to the very place, the very epicenter of my disappointment.
This house on Cheshire Court.
I’ve owned it for over a decade. Before that, it was the house I called home in college. It became the place my brother and I lived together for 4 years til I married; it kept us close at the age when most siblings drift apart.
Tony carried me through its front door upon returning from our honeymoon. All but 2 months of our marriage are memories from this house.
It holds a lot. Though now it sits empty. It’s in the final stages of renovation before it goes on the market (after renters left quite a mess behind…sigh).
So I stood there in the front yard, tear-stained face to its facade. I stood there facing my disappointment.
I know it’s time to let this last financial burden go. For that I am grateful.
Yet, it’s one more thing representing a shattered dream.
I’ve let go of pretty much every familiar, tangible piece of my former life. I can’t help but feel so empty-handed.
I know that that my great God calls me to remain open-handed with my life, with my future. I know He works in the unseen, in the intangible. I know that open hands don’t necessarily mean empty hands, that open hands mean freedom for God to do what only He can do, however and in whatever timing He chooses.
But for today, I allow myself to feel the hurt of disappointment, to acknowledge its sting, to let the tears flow.
And even still, I put all my hope in the One who can handle all my disappointments, all my tears, and still lay out a future and a home for me in heaven that makes anything on this earth just not even worth crying over.
Dearly loved, with a house to sell,