Disappointment vs Holy Discontent

I had an occasion to ask a fella his reason for choosing the path of Christianity, when I learned he had been raised from infancy walking a total hedonistic religion. His answer, “being a Christian and going to church beats the alternative,” sent me racking my brain as to the pivotal point in my Christian worldview where I had come very uncomfortable with the hint in that line of thinking that Christianity offers favorable qualities. As we talked a bit deeper and openly about struggles and benefits of our journey experience, I discovered him to be a true brother in Christ and not unlike many other believers, held captive to the irrational and stringent (new word)  belief that a life of a believer should be void of disappointment, hurt, anger and sorrow. That thought that sometime rears it's ugly head to temp me into believing that there is something wrong with my relationship with God if discontent is dominating in this journey with Christ. Puzzling on it, I am convinced that, though the sources of my disappointment continue to very, they all have played an important role in my journey as a believer. The fact is that nothing has brought this more home to roost than the reading of Tim Keller’s book:  Walking with God through Pain and Suffering, where he relates the experiences of the earlier followers and how God makes good use of disappointment in the lives of those God loves.

In the Old Testament, God speaks of the disappointment in the hearts of the people of Israel as a signpost to truth. When I’ve wandered away from my first love, when I’ve settled for something less than God's promises, disappointment has invariably shown me the way back home. God identified the dissatisfaction among the people of ancient Israel as an indicator that all things apart from his presence will always fall short of filling their hearts. I continue to find the second chapter of Jeremiah to be filled with the imagery of inevitable disappointment for me as I seek to supplement the love of God with other pursuits:

"Now why go to Egypt

to drink water from the Shihor?

And why go to Assyria

to drink water from the River?

Why do you go about so much,

changing your ways?

You will be disappointed by Egypt

as you were by Assyria.

You will also leave that place

with your hands on your head,

for the LORD has rejected those you trust;

you will not be helped by them" Jeremiah 2:18, 36-37

I’ve been learning over the years, without exception, when I face a  disappointment I am faced with a choice. I’m tempted to be lead into futile pursuit for fulfillment or I can let it be the signpost that causes me to turn around or take a firmer grip of the Father’s hand.  I confess, though, I haven’t always allowed Him to use disappointment in my believing life.

But this type of disappointment is far different from what I might fudge and call holy discontent, the unsatisfied hunger that reminds me that I have been ushered in to a great banquet, but the feast has not fully been served. In the hands of God, this has often been an equally powerful signpost.

I often have to remind myself of Saint Augustine’s words about restlessness and dissatisfaction. There, on the very first page of his Confessions, he begins to summarize the story of his life in a single confession to God: "You have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You." How many times has this line been the quality that distinguishes me as a believer from my darkened unbelieving heart from my restlessness. Yet, I don’t think this is what Augustine intended, nor do I think it is a helpful place to draw the line. Since confessing Christ I’ve not ceased to experience disappointment, drought and hints of despair. Moreover, I’m not able to read Augustine's Confessions without realizing that he saw himself as a restless soul! He saw all people this way, and for good reason, I think. As a believer, I still struggle with sin and disappointment. I’m hoping not, but tomorrow I’ll probably find myself as restless as driving away from Quiet Rest this past week. I’ll probably still long for something down the road.  I know I’ll be hungry for this or that again, discontent where I’m at or what I’m doing.  My thirst is partially satisfied this moment because I’m partially sanctified. I have, in the Spirit, a taste of what is to come. But the table of God is not fully here yet, and at times I confess I’m full of discontent at the thought of it. With all of creation, I am still groaning for restoration, reconciliation, redemption—to sit at the table that has been prepared for me and recline with the One who's prepared it.   This was vividly brought back yesterday when we viewed the movie: Let There Be Light.

I believe the rest that Augustine is talking about is eschatological rest—and of course I’m not there yet. I recognize my journey there is going to be of longing, filled with discontent that the world is not as it will be, marked by the difficulty of waiting, and the hunger for more than I have or now taste and see. But how beautiful this longing is! On the other hand, I’m seeing my disappointment as a testimony to the promise that I will rest in God, and such a signpost is an unlikely blessing in the midst of my need. I believe this is why Jesus declares throughout the beatitudes that those on the verge of disappointment, those in the grasp of pangs for something more—these are the blessed among us. Blessed are the poor in spirit. Blessed are those who mourn, and those who are meek. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.

Father, God, thank You for such hunger because I find it as a declaration that I am indeed on my way to a great banquet and You are truly reconciling all things so that I—and my enemies—have a place at the table. Thank you for showing me through Your Word and the writings of Your servants, like Augustine and Keller that restlessness can be deeply devotional, my discontent a constant confession that I anticipate nothing less than redemption and restoration, a place at the great table of eternity. Thank You for the blessing for hungry Bill.  Amen