A Relational Cycle

Early on in my faith walk, I did a study chronicling every conflict I could find in the Scriptures from Genesis to Revelation. Nearly every page preserved some form of relational pain laid bare for the ages.

During that study, I began to see and sketch a pattern of spiritual pain that begins with an inspiring and intoxicating substance I will call joyful anticipation.

Joyful anticipation is when . . .

You experience the forgiveness of God, and all is right and new in the world.
You meet that special someone, and there are stars in your eyes.
You go into business with your best friend because, with Jesus at the center, what could possibly go wrong?
You find a dream mentor who obviously walks on water.

Fresh starts, starry eyes, confident expectation, honest admiration—this is joyful anticipation at its finest. The feeling is genuine. If there is an illusion in joyful anticipation, it is its permanence. Sooner or later, life will carry us into the next stage in the cycle of relationships, which is disillusionment, the painful gaining of reality.

Disillusionment is when . . .

Your faith falls flat.
You are having trouble connecting with that special someone.
Your best friend is neither the best nor a friend.
You have a front-row view of your mentor’s humanity.

And disillusionment is also when . . .

A loved one takes their life.
A miracle pregnancy miscarries.
A beloved leader is tormented by temptation.
A visionary steps out in faith into what seems like failure.
A sincere soul has not sensed God’s presence in years.

Disillusionment is when our spiritual assumptions collide with reality. The shock shakes loose illusions. We begin to see more clearly. And God—through the painful gaining of reality—invites us to grow.

The problem, however, is that our culture does not teach us how to live past disillusionment in life, let alone in faith. We live in an age that mistakenly calls joyful anticipation love and, therefore, views spiritual disillusionment as failure. So, when love fails, our culture counsels us to bail.

In the absence of a theological framework within which to recognize the night as normal in our faith, we mistake the night for nothingness. Without certainty that disillusionment is a well-traveled path within faith, we assume that experiencing disillusionment somehow means that we have moved outside the faith.

No and no.
The night is normal.

Disillusionment is evidence of growth, not decay.

So, if you are disillusioned, please, borrow my hope: another path besides “bail” is available to you. A path that will lift you upward instead of pushing you downward. That path will help you navigate the night with courage.