Not One Tear Lost (Overcoming Disappointment)

Fence #5        (Santa Ynez, California; taken by LinJane)

(Battling disappointment can be an uphill, drag-out war...if you're standing on the wrong side)

I'm not a cryer.  My eyes are often very dry and, in fact, I can specifically count the moments that I found myself convulsing and dripping wet with tears...on one hand.  I've been able to sing solos at personal family member's funerals and weddings without breaking.  It's not that I had not cared or felt indifferent, it's that I was overwhelmed with a peace that I could not explain.   But in recent years I've often wondered why?  Why was *I* blessed with this peace?  Why was I *cursed* with non-emotion?  So I have asked Yahweh for tears.  Little did I know that prayer was answered, though in a way that did not make me feel much better.  I had been hoping for tears of joy, not of sorrow.  

I was awakened early in the morning by our Malamute barking hysterically in our back yard.  Peeking out the bedroom window my heart jumped and as I prompted my husband to get ready to help I hurriedly slipped on a pair of jeans and slippers making my way out the door quickly.  My newly acquired horse, Shadrak, had caught himself in the barb-wire fence and I found it amazing that my dog had the sense to alert whoever would listen; at the same time my human sense warned me there was no logical explanation for this hang-up.  My heart had been racing, the dog was still barking, the rest of the family was stirring, my husband was dialing the neighbor, and the sun was just peaking over the eastern hills, and all I could do was barely choke out a whisper "somebody please help me, please hurry".  As Shadrak fell to the ground, my hands were supporting his head and little did I know at that moment that the wire was around his neck choking the life out of him; he was dying rapidly and there was nothing that I could do.  I sat there with his head in my hands sobbing inaudible words that God could only decipher, feeling helpless and worthless, and as overwhelming emotions flooded me I witnessed a tear roll down my new friend's cheek for one moment of hope; the wire cutters came one last breath too late and life left him limp and no longer suffering.  "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry." I wailed. 

There was an eerie quiet calm that solemn morning.  The trees were noiseless as if they were standing at attention out of respect, the morning birds held back their flight as if there was a knowing among the creatures, and out of the thin air I heard a faint mourning cry, a chorus of distant howling paying their respects.   I was later told that the howling of wolves in the morning is very unusual, and by that I knew that God's great design of nature had a way of grieving as well, and that was comforting in a way.  

Many a tear drop were shed that day and not one of them were left untouched.

Shortly after this loss a friend shared with me that losing a horse is like losing a family member.  The loss is great and the grief is real; and it's not like losing a family pet such as a dog or cat.  I can attest to this, even if I owned this horse for but a few months.  A few days of bonding with a horse is like a few years of getting acquainted with a friend.  I can't explain it, but it's real.  Writing this brings back a bit of sadness, because it was a short-lived dream that I held onto since I was 10 years of age and it had finally come to fruition at age 33.  Now ten years later I'm curiously reminded of this day.
But the sadness over a lost dream is not what really bothers me today.  What has me disheartened is the fear that I held onto in sharing this with the friend that gave me this common dream...her horse became mine.  And because my heart was completely ripped apart I didn't know how to communicate this loss to her.  I shared this fear with a precious mentor at that time and she encouraged me with "you'll call her in time".  I never did and my friend found out through another source ... and *that's* disappointing.  I was afraid of rejection, of ridicule, of confrontation, of disappointing another human being; I couldn't face another loss.  But consequently my fear and lack of communication caused another separation. 

This isn't about overcoming loss; it's really about overcoming disappointment; overcoming being disappointed and overcoming being a disappointment.  It's a matter of getting off the fence of blinding fear and onto a side that lends to walking the path of courage to face people no matter what their reaction will be, and trusting the Shepard in that step of courage.  I can imagine that the other side would have lent to a path of loneliness and distrust.  Though, at the time of the tragedy, I was not aware of a choice only of the fear that enveloped me, hindsight lends me the knowledge that my God took care of the details and brought me back to the green pasture.  It was a couple of months later that my friend and I reconnected, awkward and humiliating as it was on my part, but we connected nonetheless.  However, consequently the repercussion of my inaction took us down a path that went different ways and communication dwindled to nothing.  If this friend ever reads this just know that I am truly sorry.  God gives me grace to learn from my mistakes and grow from there on.  He leaves the ninety-nine and fetches the one in hopes to reconnect, retrain, regather him to the rest of His flock for teaching, rebuking, correcting, and training. (2 Timothy 3:16)

 ³ Then Jesus told them this parable: ⁴ “Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? ⁵ And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders ⁶ and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ ⁷ I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.

Luke 15:4-7 (NIV)

I can only imagine the disappointment that this wandering lamb had experienced, the lost teardrops whisked away in the wind as he desperately ran away to separate himself from the humiliation of time lost in sin, disobedience, fear, disappointment, loss, grief, whatever it was that caused him to take flight; and I can imagine that the Shepard carefully caught the displaced tears in His gentle hands not willing any of them to fall by the wayside.  And notice that when the Shepard found this lost creature He "joyfully puts it on His shoulders" like a smiling father giving his child a piggy-back ride home...and a party is awaiting their return! And oh there is so much to this story of His and I could go on and on ... and maybe I will in another post; but you see, disappointment is but an emotion that disconnects us from the special appointments with God, our Shepard.  Disappointment is learned through unfortunate events in life.  But by His grace He enables us to learn something new:  thrilling appointments that just might involve tears of joy with our Father, on time and in His steps.  

The path of loneliness and detachment

OR

The path of courage to face divine appointments

I know that my story may sound confusing as I originally chose in ignorance the path of loneliness; however, as I began to realize my mistake I allowed the Shepard to lead me on from there.  See the difference?   He, then, carried me over the fence...on His shoulders no less ... now *that* was a ride!    ;)

Remembering who I am...

                                               Cindy