Have You Ever Felt the Heartbreak of a Broken Promise?
For as long as I can remember, a pinky promise was the most sacred act of trusting people. It likely started in the first grade when I made my mom pinky promise she would take me to get a Checker’s milkshake if I was good in class. She followed through on her promise, so I figured I would keep making those pinky finger deals.
But the adult world doesn’t always play by the rules of a pinky exchange. The shattering disappointment of a promise meant to be kept takes root as deep grief, and before we know it, results of blind optimism build my walls of trust back up to their top. Have you ever felt the heartbreak of a broken promise?
Starting the Climb
Staring down at the steep spiral of mountains, I looked over the paths that formed the way we came up. The absence of a breeze made the stray strands of my hair stick to the back of my neck. Squeezing the smushed PB & J in my hands, I caved into the hunger I had been ignoring for the last hour, and I listened. I could hear the stillness of everything on this mountain top. Looking down though, I remember the heartbreaking disappointment of a stillness that felt more like a lonely silence.
Memories of a hiking trip I took a few years ago replay in my mind. I was a few months out of school, skipping my college graduation to climb mountains greater than my academic achievements. I felt freedom at my fingertips with endless opportunities to pursue big dreams. I climbed care-free and determined that I would one day reach the top, I just needed to keep working for it.
Now, I am two years in to an unprecedented search for a dream destination. The journey has broken parts of me that I spent so much time trying to find – parts of me that I lost in a fight for survival. I searched for belonging, wondering why I never seem to find it. My stubborn desire for control of a map drove me to insanity when I had no signs pointing where to go. I felt lost, disconnected, and utterly exhausted.
I traveled switch backs that warranted grumbling complaints paired with the smaller victories of flat plains and easy terrain. It was a blend of paces, both challenging and mellow that took me here to this top. I celebrated with humbling gratitude knowing we are not promised an easy climb, so we must celebrate each part of our journey. It is the tiny steps we take to overcome where we came from, or who we once were that make it all worth it.
The Path Going Up
I walked in silence most of the time, clenching my jaw to get through the hardships. I was convinced that sometimes the silence was not one-sided, but that maybe God was choosing to be silent too. Most of the words I muttered were complaints in hopes that the hike was almost finished. This trail was getting a Google rating of 3/10 – no place to nap, and it takes way too long to find where you are going. It is easy to get lost on paths like this. Though, I traveled with my head down most of the time.
As many pieces of myself crumbled into the mountain side, other pieces stuck to me like the sweat on my back, building endurance.
I searched for certainty of a calling, not knowing I was only called to focus on where I was.
I searched for job security, not knowing God held me securely in the position I was in when I felt unqualified or insignificant.
I searched for paths of achievement, hoping to reach the top and feel useful. And if I couldn’t reach it, did that mean I was useless?
My stride to please God slowly turned into seeking approval. I traveled the trail with dulling perspectives, and the settling disappointment that maybe I would never reach the top. Maybe I would stay stuck where I am, never being enough. I quickly became my own guide with no direction, struggling to catch my breath and feeling incapable of taking another step forward. Why wasn’t God giving me direction? And why was He not answering my pigeon-holed prayers?
I hold God to a standard that doesn’t match His character, which means answering my prayers the way I want and when I want.
I pray for God’s will to be done while mapping out a plan I think will lead me where I want. But the view never quite lives up to my expectations and disappointment has me gripping for control of a life that feels out of control. I become trapped on a trail of wanting more because I never am enough.
There are two things to remember:
1. God’s promise is not dependent on me.
I often get lost where I am because I become distracted with where I want to be. I miss what God is speaking and how He is leading me.
I must change perspective to change my focus. A focused perspective allows us to make it to the top, seeing twists and turns as celebrations of challenges conquered. God equips us in the valleys. Every challenge is leading us closer to Him. More thoughts about where our focus should be are here.
2. God’s promise does not mean the direction is easy.
King David in the Bible lived a life filled with crying out to God in the mountain tops and valleys. Expressions of his doubt fill the book of Psalms. However, passages like Psalms 23 are a testament to the goodness of God no matter where you are:
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake… Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever. (Psalm 23:1-3, 6)
Am I thanking God for getting me through another day in the valley? Am I seeing His hand in all things or am I looking other places? Am I recognizing Him for who He is instead of what He can do? Is my focus on myself or on Him?
As I continue to sit where I am, I know there are more mountains to climb and more small victories to celebrate. But I hear God whispering, “Where you are on your journey does not matter.” And I meditate on the promises God leaves in His Word.
We can only truly be fulfilled when we are seeking after Him – not the desire to be on the next trail. God will fulfill the promises we think are broken because His ways are higher than we can climb. I can delight in where He has me because I know He wants to use me.
My destination does not need to arrive at achievement or end at having it all figured out. I only need to sit at the feet of Jesus, following His path and walking in His steps.
