Last week, we dipped our toes into the waters of disappointment, the feelings that emerge when we believe God has let us down. God doesn’t actually let us down, but sometimes we can feel like He has. When things don’t unfold the way we hoped or prayed they would, disappointment lives in that space between what we hoped would happen and what actually happened.

Once we recognize it for what it is, instead of trying to pep talk ourselves out of the disappointment, we can take it to God. That’s not easy. There are times in my life I’ve been guilty of keeping it all positive. I do believe in being positive, I really do. But I think we have to be careful that positivity doesn’t become a way of avoiding what’s really going on inside us. Sometimes it’s easier to put a positive spin on things than to admit what we’re really feeling. But being honest with God means being willing to be vulnerable with Him, even when what’s going on inside us isn’t pretty.

But once we take it to God, what then?

That’s where the real growth begins.

Because here’s what I’ve been learning: disappointment doesn’t just hurt. It can change the way we trust.

I think one of the hardest things about disappointment is that it robs us of our naivety. It can make us hesitant to hope, hesitant to take emotional risks, hesitant to trust fully.

How do we trust again?

That’s not something I can answer for anyone else, but I can tell you what has worked for me.

When I was younger, I assumed I would be braver as I got older. I thought that with time, experience, and the wisdom age brings, I would look at the future with a lion’s heart.

Instead, life has been harder than I expected. Tragedy has hit, loss has wounded, and betrayal has left me brokenhearted. I found myself looking for cover instead of blazing a trail. I started holding back from hoping, avoiding emotional risks, keeping one hand behind my back, and staying close to what felt familiar.

If I let myself hope fully again, I’m afraid I’ll be let down.

But maybe time and experience can teach us something else if we’re willing to zoom out and look at the whole story, not just the parts that hurt.

There have been things in my life that, at the time, I thought I would never recover from. With some distance, I can see them differently now. I can see how God used them, how limited my perspective was, and how some things turned out to be exactly what I needed, even though I couldn’t see it at the time.

Maybe that’s one of the things age can give us. Not the fearless confidence I thought I would have, but perspective. The ability to look back and realize that sometimes I was so focused on the painful chapter that I couldn’t see the whole story.

I think I used to believe that if I was good enough, cleaned up enough, believed enough, I could avoid some of the pain. But life has taught me that faith doesn’t mean I get to avoid pain. It means I have to trust God in the middle of it. And maybe that’s where surrender comes in.

I’m learning that surrender doesn’t mean my choices don’t matter. It means I can make my choices, pray my prayers, and still surrender what I thought would happen because I believe God really does know best.

So what does learning to trust like this actually look like for me?

I pray.

I don’t see the answer I hoped I would.

I am disappointed.

I take my disappointment to God.

Then, it’s not glamorous or new; I just keep showing up.

With my broken heart and all.

Sometimes I try to talk myself into trusting before I admit to God that I’m struggling to trust. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to “fix myself up” before I come to God. The irony is He sees and knows it all anyway.

Instead, I’m learning to practice deep honesty, the kind that makes me uncomfortable when I pray. I’m learning to come to Him just as I am and let Him do the work that only He can do.

Speaking of, “Just As I Am,” has anybody else grown up with altar calls? That song was a favorite. Usually, the organ would play, and we would sing all eleven verses. Just kidding, there aren’t really eleven verses; it just felt like that as a kid.

I think there is something fitting about that song coming to mind now. I grew up singing about coming to God just as I am, but I’m only now learning what that really means.

He changes the heart. But He can only do it if we’re honest. And being that honest with God requires trust.

Trust is the foundation of any good relationship. And isn’t that what we each want, a good relationship with God?

If our trust feels shaken, even when we know God is trustworthy, we may not be willing to keep showing up in the relationship. Or if we do, we will be doubtful and always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

But maybe trusting doesn’t mean the other shoe never drops.

Maybe it means we’ll go through it together.