I was so heartbroken. The hurt ran so deep that I wanted to get as far away from it as I could. Run. Leave. Escape the pain, find a way to stop the tears. The disappointment had been hanging around for so long, I was just tired of it. Soon, my sadness took on a different face. It became anger, then resentment. 

A day came when I simply could not live with my disappointment any longer. I packed myself a bag. I packed a bag for my kids and told them we were going on a little trip to Nanny's house. I drove to hot pastor's office shaking with emotions. In a few angry words, I let him know I was leaving. A fellow pastor stared at us. I didn't care. 

With God's help, I did not go to Nanny's that day. Staying, listening, and forgiving was the better choice. Jesus helped me make that decision. I had no strength left of my own. My disappointments had become dangerous.

We all experience disappointments. Big and small. Am I disappointed that I can no longer watch Everybody Loves Raymond since we cancelled our cable? Yes! The shampoo that tamed my frizzy locks was discontinued. Did I want to call the company in tears? Yes. I could go on, but I'm so lame. There are times when hot pastor doesn't follow through with something, forgets something, doesn't listen to me, or does his annoying habit that drives me almost to the point of insanity! I keep hoping he will quit, yet I find myself disappointed. Again.

dis·ap·point·ed