I attend a small group that I really enjoy. It’s comprised of people who are within a decade of me, younger and older.

So many valuable experiences and so much wisdom flow through the conversation each time we meet.  What I appreciate most is the honesty.  People are willing to share their hurts as well as their joys.  I am a person who needs that.

Life isn’t always easy, and as I age, I find myself tiring of the constant push to “just believe.”   It feels like a weight I can’t carry the same way anymore.

Let me explain.

I have a dear friend who shares my dislike of projecting Christianity as a lifestyle that doesn’t allow for feelings of doubt or disappointment. 

It can feel like we’re letting Jesus, or more likely our fellow believers, down if we question the answers, or lack of answers, to our prayers. 

I’ve been feeling disappointed lately; it’s subtle, but it colors everything.

I don’t know if you’ve been to a place like this where things didn’t go the way you thought they would.  Maybe something happened that forced you to question all the prayers you’ve prayed.

Lately, as I look around my life, it’s like my vision is impaired, and I see the negative more easily. 

It’s been a hard time. 

I miss the part of me that is light-hearted and expectantly positive.  It’s like the light in me has dimmed.

It’s been a struggle, but as I continue to seek the Lord in my faith, he meets me where I am, even when that place feels messy. 

This week, at a small group, something was said that seemed so very obvious, but it was an epiphany for me.

We were talking about the Sunday sermon, and I was sitting and listening, maybe lamenting a bit, staring down at my hands.

Life is just hard sometimes, isn’t it?  

The scripture the pastor referenced was Matthew 7:14 (NIV): “But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.”  A verse I’ve heard countless times, but somehow didn’t know what to do with it that day.

The message was a reminder to stay on the “Narrow Road” to find a meaningful life.  

The conversation was fluid, and I was listening, or trying to listen, over the loud voices in my head reminding me of my disappointments, each one louder than the last.

Then, an older gentleman, who had requested prayer for something very painful, said a sentence so quietly that I had to lean in to listen, the conversation around us fading for a second.

 It struck my heart like thunder.

He said, “We act like in this life that we’re never gonna get hit.” 

Get hit? That’s an interesting way to say it, I thought.   

He continued, “But the scriptures tell us that we are. We have to continue to get back up.” 

 Friends, my heart was perfectly ready to hear what he said in that moment. 

I’ve been living as though I’m never “gonna get hit.”

As though if I pray, things will keep going the way I expect them to. 

The way I’m quietly demanding them to.  It’s eye-opening, and a little humbling.  

I’ve been telling myself and anyone who will listen that I believe God knows exactly what he’s doing, and that you can trust him. 

But lately, when life has thrown some curveballs, I find myself truly tested by that statement. 

Do I really think God is in control?

When children make questionable choices.

When parents die young, 

When I step out in faith, and it’s harder than expected.

When loneliness runs deep into my soul.

When I thought I’d done what God asked, and I’m still disappointed.

When God feels absent.

I sat there, feeling the gravity of his statement wash over me, settling someplace deep.

This verse came to mind. 

John 16:33 “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

Okay, this is not a new concept for me. 

But maybe, I thought, it’s not the first time it’s been challenged.    

Or maybe after years of believing and being challenged, my faith is wearing thin.   

It’s hard to admit this to myself, much less to you. 

But it’s just the truth.

So what do I do with all of this?

I left the small group feeling strangely uplifted, like something inside me had shifted a little.

Because someone else had shared and reminded me that I am not immune to the pain of this world. 

And to live like I’m shocked each time the very thing God told me would happen actually happens is no way to live.

I need these reminders.  You know, the obvious ones that resonate deep when you need them most.

I’m trying to reframe my disappointments in light of John 16:33, slowly and imperfectly.

As life continues to look different from what I had hoped, I’m forced to admit what I truly believe.

It’s a sobering process for sure.

But John 16:33 has been a relief. Because, of course, in life we’re going to have struggles, we’re “gonna get hit.” 

We should expect it, then get back up and keep going.

Why?

Because there is no better life than the one on the narrow road.

Let me explain.

There’s a fabulous verse that tells us we don’t grieve like those with no hope.  (1 Thessalonians 4:13)

I clung to this verse after my Mom died.  It was a life ring when I thought I would drown in sorrow.

We hope that, even though things look bleak, he will bring good eventually.

That is our greatest hope.

And his great promise to us.

I forgot that for a while.

The “eventually” part of having hope is so hard at times. 

But today, I’m going to stagger back up on my feet. 

I’m going to continue walking in faith, believing that the things I hope for, but have not seen, will become some of the most beautiful things in my life.

Eventually.  

A friend of mine often tells me, “Give time, time.” Such a simple, profound statement. I’m holding onto it really hard.

I don’t know what may or may not be going on in your life right now, but I bet there are some of you out there who’ve been hit pretty hard with disappointment.

I see you, I feel the pain, I understand what it means to hope for something and not see it.

I pray God blesses you fully and completely.  And when he answers our prayers, I pray he gives us the spiritual eyes to see it. 

Then we can celebrate and do a happy praise-Jesus dance on this long, narrow road.