I am carrying a lot of disappointment tonight. 10-7-2023
I am disappointed in myself because I kept trying long after I knew some things were not working. I kept believing I could work harder, solve another problem, find another source of money, hold another relationship together, or somehow make everything turn around. Persistence has been one of my strengths, but somewhere along the way persistence became refusal to accept reality.
I am disappointed in people I believed I could count on. That disappointment stretches from business into church and into some of the relationships that mattered most to me. Some people did not carry what I believed they would carry. Some things I trusted were not as solid as I thought they were.
But I cannot make this only about what other people did.
I ignored God.
Not completely. I still talked about Him. I taught Scripture. I prayed publicly. I served people. I went to church. I tried to do good things. From the outside, much of my life probably looked faithful.
But there is a painful difference between doing things for God and actually walking closely with God.
My real prayer life had become thin. Fear was controlling far more of my decisions than I wanted to admit. I was overwhelmed, but instead of consistently bringing that fear and exhaustion before God, I often went back to work. I analyzed, planned, fixed, worried, borrowed, negotiated, pushed, and tried again.
I stayed close enough to God to know the language, but distant enough to keep control.
And in some areas I was functioning behind a facade. I knew how to be the engineer, businessman, community leader, pastor, husband, friend, and problem solver. I knew how each role was supposed to look.
But playing the role is not the same thing as abiding in Christ.
That realization hurts.
Romans 3:23 says, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” I do not get an exception because my intentions were good or because I was trying to help people. I can sincerely want good things and still be proud, fearful, controlling, foolish, or spiritually distant.
Yet this is not where the story ends.
What overwhelms me tonight is that I also know how awesome God is.
I know enough about Him to know that confession is not the doorway to despair. It is the doorway back into the light.
“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” — 1 John 1:9
I cannot undo every decision. I cannot recover every dollar. I cannot make every relationship become what I hoped it would be. I cannot guarantee what happens with the business, the church, my reputation, or the years ahead.
But I can stop pretending.
I can come before God without the titles and without the roles.
Just John.
A sinner who needs grace.
A tired man who needs his Father.
A disciple who wandered closer to self-reliance than he wants to admit.
And a man who still believes that Jesus Christ is exactly who He said He is.
Perhaps that is where rebuilding actually begins.
Not with another plan.
Not with another heroic attempt to save everything.
But with repentance, truth, prayer, obedience, and learning again what it means to remain in Christ.
“Abide in me, and I in you.” — John 15:4
Lord, I have spent too much time trying to hold everything together myself. Forgive me for the fear, pride, distance, and self-reliance that I allowed to grow beneath the surface of my life. I do not ask You merely to rescue the things I am afraid of losing. I ask You to bring me back to You. Teach me to pray again, to listen again, to obey again, and to trust You with what I cannot control. Strip away what is false and make what remains true. Whatever happens next, let me walk through it with You rather than merely talking about You. Amen.
