Crying in the Restroom -- Comfort for the Disappointed

Like the good writers they teach us to be, writing conference directors love to build anticipation and suspense. This is why they save “what you’ve all been waiting for” for the final moments of the final meeting on the final day of the conference.


What we’ve all been waiting for, at least for many attendees, is the announcement that reveals who won the writing contests. I served on faculty at a conference recently where this was the case. The Miss America pageant had nothing on them as they slowly read the names of the winners.

“And the second runner up is . . . “

“And the first runner up is . . . “

“Now let’s give the history of this particular contest . . .”

“And talk about a few of the past winners . . . “

“And take a few photographs . . . “

“And finally, . . . the winner of the 2018 Best Novel Contest iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis . . . Katie Smithson.”

Clapping along with the rest of the audience, I stood to excuse myself. I needed to go to the bathroom. I'd been waiting for at least 30 minutes because I didn't want to miss the announcement. As the winner, shiny trophy and cash prize in hand, posed for pictures, I made my way to the nearest restroom.

A quick glance told me it was empty except for one stall. And in that stall stood a crying woman.

Her back was pressed against the closed stall door, and all I could see was her feet. But I heard her sniffling.

I knew immediately what was wrong.

She was one of the contest entrants – one of the ones who didn’t win.

I turned, eased the bathroom door open, and slipped out, respecting her desire to cry alone.

On the long walk to find another restroom, I prayed for her.

Lord, remind her that her writing is valuable. Strengthen her resolve to learn the craft and apply the knowledge she’s learned this weekend. Give her courage to open her computer again. Someday her writing may be good enough to win an award, but even if it isn't, remind her that the true prize doesn't belong to the most gifted or accomplished, but to the one who perseveres. Most of all, Lord, help her not to quit.

When was the last time you were disappointed? When you knew your hard work was about to pay off, only to discover it wasn’t good enough? When your coworker got the promotion, raise, or bonus you hoped to secure? When someone else’s child got the full tuition scholarship? When God answered your best friend’s prayer but seemed to ignore yours?

We’ve all had times when our hearts have broken in disappointment. When we’ve smiled through our tears at someone else’s success or good fortune or hidden in the bathroom to cry.

If today is one of those days for you, I want to pray for you. 

Father, wrap your big strong arms around my dear sister. Hold her close and let her sob into your chest. Then, when the tears slow to a trickle and the sobs subside to an occasional hiccup, speak truth into her heart. Remind her that your timing is perfect, and you will withhold no good thing from those who walk uprightly. Renew her hope. 

Give her courage to try again, and again, and again, if that’s what’s needed. If she needs another approach, give her James 1:5 wisdom to know what it is. If you have a different plan for her, help her recognize it and obey you. Give her faith to trust your timing, your wisdom, and, most of all, your heart. In the mighty name of Jesus I pray, Amen. 

“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning,” (Psalm 30:5). 

Now it’s your turn. When was the last time disappointment made you cry? How did God comfort you in your pain? Leave a comment below and share your story. And if you’re reading by email, CLICK HERE to visit Hungry for God online and leave a comment.

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When You're Thinking About Quitting

Like the pause between closing your hand in a car door and the scream of pain, time froze, and so did I.

Months ago an acquisitions editor had asked me to submit a manuscript for my first devotional book, Joy in the Journey. But I had a big problem—I didn’t have a manuscript. 

All I had was a collection of devotional pieces I’d written during my ten-year term as support group leader of our local homeschool group. Some devotions were on my computer, so all I had to do was format them correctly. Others were paper and ink copies stuffed in a notebook. These I had to transcribe, one word at a time, to add them to the manuscript. 

B.I.C. is a well-known acronym among writers. It stands for Butt in Chair. I.C. aptly describes where my B. had been for two solid days. Pushed to get the manuscript to the editor before he forgot he'd asked for it, I’d been pecking away at the project non-stop. I’d sequestered myself in a room, emerging only to eat, drink, and go to the bathroom. 

On the second night (or, really, the third morning, because it was well after midnight), I closed my computer and fell into bed, exhausted but relieved I’d made so much progress. Eight more hours should do it were the last words my tired brain registered before I fell asleep. 

I went to church the next morning, then opened the computer for the final B.I.C. session. That’s when my heart stopped, and my blood turned cold. 

My manuscript, the one in which I had invested the last 36 hours of my life, was gone. 

Gone like hard-earned money at tax time. 

Gone like campfire smoke on a windy day. 

Gone like a helium balloons from tiny children's hands. 

Despite every attempt at recovery, it was irretrievably gone. 

Speechless in shock and disbelief, one feeble thought pushed itself into my frozen brain: 

You have two choices: Quit or start over.

Oh, how I wanted to quit. It was too hard. I was too tired.  

But because I believed in what I was doing, I started over. I briefly contemplated a third choice, cry, but since I was starting over from the very beginning, crying would only waste time. I decided to cry later, when it was finished. I took a deep breath, prayed a silent prayer, then opened a new Word document and began to type. 

Some of you are facing the same choices I faced on that dreadful day in 2011—only the stakes are much higher. You might be thinking about giving up on your marriage, your wayward child, or your church. You may feel like all your hard work toward sobriety, purity, or financial responsibility has vanished, and you’re back to square one. 

You want to quit, because it’s too hard. The road is too long. The task is too great. There’s too much going against you, and you feel like you’re the only one who cares. 

But you believe in what you’re doing. You believe God can heal your marriage, restore that wayward child, or rebuild your church. You deeply desire to be sober, pure, or debt free. God has put the dream in your heart, and you know nothing’s too hard for him. 

But you’re tired. So tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of praying. Tired of believing when no one else seems to. 

You, too, have two choices: Quit or start over. 

If you quit, you’ve automatically failed. 

If you start over, you might fail. But you might succeed. Wouldn’t you rather die trying, hoping, and believing, than wonder forever what might have happened if you hadn’t quit? 

I learned two things that dark day in March 2011. First, I learned that I’m not a quitter. Second, I learned that I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. 

Eighteen months after I lost two-thirds of my manuscript, I held Joy in the Journey, Encouragement for Homeschooling Moms in my hands. It hasn’t become a New York Times Bestseller, but God has used it to encourage homeschooling moms around the world. Looking back, I'm glad I didn't quit. I think they are, too.

Father, you know how frail we are, and how easily discouraged we become. When setbacks come our way, we grow weary and fainthearted. Thank you for the promise that “those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint (Isa. 40:31). 

 We need you today. Hold us when we cry. Strengthen us when we doubt. Comfort us when we falter. Give us the determination we need to persevere. Help us keep our eyes on you and trust you to use our trials for our good and your glory. In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.

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4 Reasons Why You Can't Quit, Part I

Some of you are thinking about quitting.

It’s too hard. You’re tired. Nothing’s changing. In fact, things may be getting worse.

You’ve prayed for that prodigal child for so long with no apparent results. Or your marriage is broken into a million pieces. Maybe your financial situation is a wreck, your health is fragile, or your spiritual life is hanging by a thread.

You’re losing hope, and you’re weary. So weary.

I know how you feel. I’ve been in hard places where every day is difficult and some days I didn’t even want to get out of bed. My emotional wires were strung so tightly that I feared I might burst into tears at the slightest provocation. And sometimes I did.

I’ve prayed, and prayed, and prayed, and I've wondered if anyone was listening, cared, or was working on my behalf.

Today and in the next blog post, I’d like to give you four reasons not to quit.

Reason 1: Things are happening in the spiritual realm you can’t see. We are limited to only what we can see with our eyes, but God works in places and in ways we can’t see. Jesus said he is always at work (John 5:17). One of my favorite examples of this is the story of Elisha as told in 2 Kings 6:14-17.

The prophet Elisha was in trouble with the king. So much trouble that the king had ordered his soldiers to go to Dothan and capture him.

“When the servant of the man of God got up and went out early the next morning, an army with horses and chariots had surrounded the city.

“‘Oh, my lord, what shall we do?’ the servant asked.

“‘Don't be afraid,’ the prophet answered. ‘Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.’"

Are you crazy? the servant must have thought. I see soldiers with scary weapons and more horses and chariots than I’ve ever seen in my life. More with us than with them? Uh, in case you can’t count, there are two of us, and there are hundreds of them. Any way I figure it, we’re outnumbered—badly.

“And Elisha prayed, ‘O LORD, open his eyes so he may see.’ Then the LORD opened the servant's eyes, and he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.”

If you’re honoring and obeying God as best you can, he promises to work on your behalf. Though you may not see his hand at work, you can be confident that he is moving heaven and earth to ensure that his perfect will is done in your situation.

You can’t quit because things are happening in the spiritual realm you can’t see.

Reason 2: God will honor your commitment. 

Galatians 6:9 is my go-to verse when I consider quitting:

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

Sowing seeds we hope will sprout into a spiritual harvest in our children, our families, our marriages, our work, our communities, and our ministries is an act of faith. We work and work and work, and sometimes we see absolutely no results. But that doesn’t mean nothing’s happening.

One of the rarest flowers on earth is a plant called the Amorphophallus Titanum. It’s also one of the largest flowers on earth and takes 40 years to bloom. Scientists who cultivate it say there are no visible signs to tell them anything’s happening with this flower until almost immediately before it blooms.

But when it blooms, whooooeeeee! It’s so big and beautiful that people line up and wait for hours just for a glimpse of it.

This is often true when the seeds we’ve sown finally bear fruit. It’s big, beautiful, and dramatic enough that people can’t stop talking about it.

Franklin Graham is another powerful example of this. Headstrong and worldy, he wasted the early years of his life as a prodigal. He forsook everything his parents modeled, taught, and preached and lived in rebellion and disobedience.

Then the seeds his parents had sown into his life began to take root. And sprout. And grow. One day the Holy Spirit convicted him of his sin, and he surrendered his life to Christ. Now he is the founder of Samaritan’s Purse Ministries and Operation Christmas Child, a world-renowned speaker, and a powerful force for Christ in today’s dark world.

You can’t quit because God promises to honor your commitment.

In my next post, I'll share two more reasons why you (and I) can't quit. In the meantime, please know I am praying for you.

For a little added encouragement, here's Mandisa.

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