I am no stranger to disappointment.

When I was in fifth grade, I didn’t make the Central Stars cheerleading team.  I tried out for the middle school team the following year and didn’t make it again.  I decided to pursue other activities.  A cheerleader I was not meant to be.

I was chosen to be an alternate on the high school dance team for a few months until I could prove I was worthy and they put me on the team as a regular.

Just the other day I made the mistake of looking at the stats for this little blog here and I realized I had lost 13 subscribers within two days.  The next day I had gained ten.  The following day I was down two.  Two steps forward, one step back.

The list goes on.

I wasn’t chosen to receive the “She Speaks” Conference Scholarship.

I won’t lie and say I wasn’t disappointed because I was.  It’s difficult not to take something like that personally even though there were 300 applicants and only four scholarships to award.  Even though.

Of course, the irritating partner of disappointment is self-doubt.  Those two form a harmonious marriage that, if left alone to fester, can have a hazardous effect on the soul.

As soon as the disappointing news is received, the self-doubt starts to creep in almost instantaneously.

Are my posts too long? (I try to be brief.  Honest, I do.)  Am I too open about my faith? (Hmmm…)  Is my writing just mediocre? (Possibly.)

You get my drift.

As soon as I learned I had not been chosen, I wondered if I should just do this writing dream of mine as a recreation instead of an actual career.

That’s when I realized I was being overtaken by that horrid couple – disappointment and self-doubt.

For starters, I find that so often we can be so overwhelmed by what is not good that we lose perspective and forget what is good.

I was the feature editor of my high school newspaper.

I was elected my sorority’s president in college.

The fact that I have even ONE blog subscriber is spectacular.

I can’t always be chosen for all of the great things.  You can’t always be chosen for all of the great things.  We all have to spread the wealth – it’s just the way it is.

And of course, there is God’s plan in everything.  I know about it all too well and I know it’s always good.  Always.  Even in our disappointments, he may not be telling us a “no” but a “not right now” instead. Something better for us might be coming – something we are perfectly suited to take-on for Him.

It’s true that I write for myself.  In fact, now that I write regularly, I have found a release like never before.  I am growing as a person simply by taking the time to just write.  Just write, write, write.

But the main being I am writing for is God. Plain and simple.  It’s for Him.

I love those of you who read what I write – I sometimes can’t even believe you do if I may be honest.  I am flattered and honored that you take the time to listen to what is on my heart.  However, the one subscriber I need to worry about the most is the one who is gently leading me now.  I’m in big trouble if he chooses to unsubscribe and yet I know He never will.  He just doesn’t work that way and I’m so thankful he doesn’t.

As my Meemo says, “Not everyone is going to like you.”  No truer words were ever spoken.

An atheist is not going to enjoy my spiritual reflections that pepper almost everything I write. They will unsubscribe.

A pessimistic, glass-is-half-empty kind of person will not enjoy the fact that I try to always look for the good in even the worst possible cases.  I will annoy them.  They will unsubscribe.

Someone who wants short, little quips won’t be my number one fan, either.  They will unsubscribe.

I can’t unsubscribe to disappointment.  That’s just not something I can choose to “opt out” of because disappointment is simply part of life.  But self-doubt?  Insecurity?  Worry?  Unsubscribe.

It wasn’t my time to win the scholarship.  There were others whose plan was a “yes” this time around.  I can’t always be chosen for all of the great things.

Here’s what I do have…An amazing husband who sent me this text message when I told him I wasn’t selected:

(Thank you to Sadie at HeyMamas for showing me that I can take a photo of a text message)

And this, friends, is why I married this man.

I’m going.  We’ll figure out a way to make it work.  He was the wind that boosted my sails and made me realize that it’s really just between God and me.  And it always should be.

Regardless of who unsubscribes.

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