SHSUEH

The Weight of Disappointment

Over winter break I realized some things about myself. One of those things was disappointment. My fall semester and summer before fall semester was filled with it. Not disappointment in other people, but in myself. I’m writing about this now, not because I desire affirmation from the people around me, but because I realize that there is healing in the process of sharing. Also, because I know that what I feel or have felt is not true – it’s based off lies – lies that are only strengthened in secret.

I’ll have to go back in time to really get at what I want to say. It started my freshman year at UTSA, and it was like a year long spiritual high. I was on top of my game when it came to purity, quiet times, and ministry – and I was happy with everything. Like seriously - school was fun, I looked forward to prayer meetings, and I even felt a RUSH when it came to ministry. Add to the fact that our ministry was in its first year, and it grew from fifteen regular members to thirty. It was my first year in college and also my first time ever serving as a leader in a ministry, and everything was going so well. Also, it was my first time in any leadership type position, and it quickly became a drug. Maybe I’ll write another post on what that was like, but for now, I’ll keep going.

I went on a summer project the summer after, and I quickly assimilated into the UT Epic as I got to know the staff on that trip. I was doing well and I couldn’t have asked for a better transition. Somehow, without ever attending a UT Epic large group, and knowing a total of five UT people, I ended up with the planning committee for that first Epic large group. I also ended up leading worship, arranging the sound equipment, the projector, and just about every other detail that I felt was overlooked. Very quickly, I learned a lot about leadership. Leaders take initiative – they plan well, they take lead, and they just work hard. I began to believe that leadership is something you do. In fact, being a good Christian meant doing the right things. It’s about going above and beyond.

When I drink coffee, I get this feeling that I really like. It’s this excitement in my gut, which sometimes makes me go poo, but it also makes me really ambitious. I want to do everything. I want to go to drop everything I have and go to China. I want to evangelize to everyone around me. I make big, grand decisions that I end up regretting in just a couple hours. Then it hurts. Because after those couple hours, you realize that what you felt has disappeared. It was a fluke. I would much rather sleep or eat than to talk to a stranger.

Like the effect coffee has on me, some time along my college years, it began to hurt. There is another side of me that I just don’t know how to deal with at times, and it’s the side of me that loves being by myself. Like when I went to New York by myself when I was in 9th grade, and rode the subways all over the city. I people watched like no other. That’s one thing I love about coffee shops, because I can take breaks just by looking up and observe the environment around me. Or how I sometimes dream about camping out in the woods by myself. Sadly, I don’t really know how to do that. Being by myself just brings out this beautiful element of life that sometimes just doesn’t come out any other way. By the way, I think there is a difference in being by yourself vs. being alone. Being alone is lonely, but when you’re with yourself, you soon marvel at the fact that there’s a lot you don’t know. There’s a rule out there called the 5/15/80 rule. It means this: 5% is what you know about a subject, 15% is what you know you don’t know, and 80% is what you don’t know you don’t know. So anyone who claims to know everything – well, that’s just 5% of it.

I have a point with this. Somewhere, when I began to express my introvertedness more, I began to compare my self with myself. I compared my freshman year with my current year, and it was quite a contrast. I mean, I liked being by myself now. Before, I felt like it was a crime to be alone – like it was a sin to not be having a one-on-one. But now, I was different. I didn’t know how to deal with that – and I began to become disappointed with myself. In fact, I tried to counter my disappointment by just doing what I had done in the past. I thought, “I need to become who I used to be,” and I thought that would solve the problem. So on the outside, my lifestyle looked no different than before, but I was so busy with Epic responsibilities that it consumed me. By doing this I began to hide the deeper issue by keeping busy – and I  never intended that to happen. I countered disappointment with works. And like any drug is, it’s temporary. Over and over again, I felt like I needed to be doing more. If I were just doing the right things, I would not struggle with what I struggle. I told myself, “I need to be taking initiative more.” But it was so hard. I was a different person trying to revert to someone else, and it felt like I was trying to swim against the current. It doesn’t help when people around you are like you and think the same way as you. Disappointment in yourself is the worst kind of disappointment, because there is nothing anyone can say to prove yourself wrong. That’s the kind of person I am, if I believe it, then I make it true somehow. Disappointment in myself was like a weight on my ankle when swimming up stream. It brought me lower and lower, almost to the point where I just stopped trying.

…

Over winter break, I read some books, reflected on the semester, my life, and my future. It was very fitting for my last winter break EVER. One night in the midst of my loneliness, it hits me like a brick to my face.

“I love you. I’m not disappointed in you.”

And I cried. I couldn’t believe it.

I’m not much of a crier, but when I do, I know it’s the Holy Spirit because I’m too prideful to cry. To hear that was like a weight had been lifted off of me. Then I’m reminded of why it feels like a weight has been lifted off of me – it’s because Jesus carried that weight to the cross a long time ago, and he killed it. He destroyed it. And when he died on the cross, so did my guilt, shame, and disappointment in myself. Do you know what it’s like? It’s like living in a house with boarded up windows, and the only light coming in was from the chimney. Then to open a window – to feel the breeze and see the light come in – it’s mind boggling. “That window was there this whole time and I kept it closed this whole time?” And the beautiful thing is that I don’t even have to swim upstream because Jesus carries me the whole way. He says, “There is absolutely NOTHING you have to prove to me or to anyone around you. You don’t even have to prove anything to yourself because I’m all you NEED.”

This all happened just about a month ago. I’m not writing this to say, “I’ve done it, and now you can too! Here’s how:” But instead, I think all of life is a journey to remove weights that hold us down. We’re born with weights on our soul, and the beauty is that Jesus knows it. He knows it so well that he died to remove it. He also knows what you’re going through right now. Through the calm, the storm, the fire, and the wind, he says: “I love you, and I’m not disappointed in you.”