Here's a secret...I don't handle disappointment very well. Especially when it relates to my children.
It tends to throw me into a funk. It makes me want to quit everything. I tend to gain weight, waste money, and let my house go...when something big hits me. Or something little and trivial, really, if it's something that means a lot to one or more of my kids.
And that's what has happened. I don't feel like going into details, but why I can't just pick myself back up and move on? I don't know. And the kids may handle it better than me, but in my heart I know (or believe anyway), that their hearts are broken and it just kills me.
I know that I should deal with it better, to model for my children how life's not fair--and that's okay. I know we could have worse problems. I know, for the most part, things are going well. But it's one little (big) thing that is a sticking point, that just gets me down. And it's just one kid this time--just the boy. My little guy. My little 6 year old, curly headed, funny, smart sweetheart. It's heartbreaking for him, and I am having a hard time letting it go.
I am praying that God will give me a sense of peace about this thing. So I can move on, and not let a dark cloud hover over the summer. But I feel like it won't get better, and I really have to struggle to not be bitter about it. And not obsess about it. So I'm praying for peace in this disappointment.