Monday, October 31, 2011
There he stood, a little kindergartener, tears pooling in his eyes, as he tried to explain to his teacher that his mom was coming with his zombie costume. No, he didn't want to line up for the parade. His costume wasn't here yet.
I watched as his tenderhearted teacher stooped down to look into his eyes, "No, honey. We can't wait. Now is the time for the parade. We have to go."
His lips quivered and he slowly shook his head back and forth, more tears pooling in his eyes, threatening to spill over.
"Why don't you get a drink of water at the drinking fountain? Then come back in. You'll feel better."
He quickly exitted. When he came back in, he did look better. It had helped....somewhat.
He quickly lined up in line-order and looked up at me. Being "an extra" at classroom party time, I can fill in where needed.
I found my need.
I got in line beside him. As we walked down the school steps and out into the radiant sun, I glanced over at him.
He looked up at me and began, "Maybe my mom will be here. Maybe she is watching the parade and has my zombie costume with her."
I smiled back. "Maybe."
We walked all the way around the block. No mom. No costume.
I watched a brave five year old deal with it.
God has watched a "not so brave forty-five year old" deal with it. I hate disappointment. Of all the emotions I most hate, disappointment is at the top.
I get excited by the little things. I anticipate even the smallest of things...Thursdays lunch with my man at Jimmy Johns, a Starbucks run with my girls, a phone conversation with my son. I look forward to them. I plan on them. I think of them when I get up in the morning.
Disappointment. It has flattened me, angered me, pestered me and left me alone to wrestle through my hurt. Some disappointments are accidents. I'm so sorry. I just forgot. Please forgive me.
Some disappointments are unavoidable. There was just no way out. I had to help them.
Some disappointments are not accidents. They are planned, not by the seen but the unseen. They are planned by a loving God that knows I need a balance of experiences in my life in order to be the best me I can be...and perhaps so I can lovingly cast a glance, give a hug or a heart-felt smile to someone who is now there.