The Weight of Disappointment

Have you ever noticed how disappointment gets heavier the more you carry it?

I'm asking because I'm asking myself too.

As I write this, these words aren't just for you. They're for me. Maybe even more than they're for you. I don't have life figured out. I don't have relationships figured out. I'm still learning. I'm still growing. Sometimes I need to hear my own words before anyone else ever reads them.

Lately I've been carrying a lot of disappointment.

Not because life has been hard. Life has always been hard.

It's the disappointment that comes from believing people. From believing the promises. From believing that this time would be different.

Eventually that kind of disappointment starts changing you if you're not careful. You become suspicious. Guarded. You stop getting excited because you're already preparing yourself for the letdown.

I don't want to become that person.

I'm not writing this because I'm perfect.

I'm not.

I've hurt people too. I've disappointed people. I've made mistakes as a daughter, as a friend, as a mother. I'll probably make more mistakes before this life is over. The difference isn't that I've always gotten it right. The difference is that I want to own it when I get it wrong.

I'm learning that accountability isn't weakness.

It's maturity.

It's being willing to look in the mirror before pointing at someone else.

And maybe that's what has been weighing on me the most.

Not that people make mistakes.

We all do.

It's when we refuse to admit them.

It's when we blame everyone around us.

It's when we use our past, our pain, or even our faith as reasons not to grow.

I've had to ask myself some hard questions lately.

Am I listening as much as I'm speaking?

Am I owning my mistakes?

Am I giving people the same grace I hope they'll give me?

Some of those answers have been uncomfortable.

But I'd rather be uncomfortable for a moment than spend my life believing everyone else is the problem.

Real growth requires honesty.

Real faith requires humility.

Showing up at church doesn't change a heart.

Praying beautiful prayers doesn't change a heart.

Only surrender does.

Only allowing God to shape us into someone who loves better, forgives better, apologizes better, and treats people better.

That's the person I want to become.

Not because I've arrived.

Because I haven't.

I'm still becoming.

And maybe that's why this hurts so much.

Because my girls are watching.

They're watching how I respond when my heart is broken.

They're watching whether I become bitter or better.

They're watching whether I choose forgiveness over resentment, wisdom over anger, faith over fear.

I won't always get it right.

But I hope they'll always see me trying.

Maybe that's enough.

Maybe that's what growth really looks like.

Not perfection.

Just a heart that's willing to keep learning.

Tonight I needed this reminder.

Maybe someone else did too.

With pain and disappointment,

Just Catrina