//Confession: I pout when I’m disappointed.
Panic immediately filled my body. My breathing increased and tears filled my eyes.
"I left it on the plane. I LEFT IT ON THE PLANE!"
No, I’m not talking about my iPhone or laptop or purse. My journal, I left my journal—my life in written word form. My memories, poems, sketches and prayers from the last seven months. To me, it was worse than any other item I could have lost. I found myself becoming a little more upset about it as each day passed.
After attempting to contact the airport with no success, I am pretty sure I actually became angry about the whole thing. It’s not just anger that shows up in moments like this; disappointment invites resentment, blame, and whining to rear their ugly heads. It may seem silly to even write about losing a journal but it’s really about the larger picture of loss. A journal made me feel like my memories had been stolen from me. I lost part of my identity. In the same way, loss in life can cause me to question who God is, and if I let myself, I stop trusting.
I stop believing that He is good. I get caught up in what isn't. When I give myself over to anger or frustration, I give up on making the best of what I actually have. What is more valuable, the written memories or continuing to live in the moments worth writing about?
Life’s varying frustrations are unavoidable but they don’t have to be something that changes the feeling of hope. I may have lost a journal but the journey continues. Focus must remain on the faithful blessings, not the fleeting disappointments.
Abundant life is found in the hope of a God who does not disappoint.\\