Disappointed, Not Devastated

I’ve learned something about myself the hard way:

it’s okay for me to be disappointed… but it’s not okay for me to be devastated.

That lesson came through pain, not theory.

There have been moments in my life where a door closed, a relationship shifted, a

dream died, or a season ended—and I felt the air leave the room. Not just sadness, but

devastation. And when I finally slowed down enough to listen, the Spirit gently asked me

a question I didn’t want to answer:

“What were you trusting in more than Me?”

I realized I wasn’t just disappointed by what I lost—I was undone because I had built

part of my identity on it. It had become more than a gift. It had become an idol.

Disappointment is part of living in a broken world. Jesus promised that.

“In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John

16:33).

But devastation is different. Devastation happens when something we leaned on

collapses—and we collapse with it. That’s when God, in His mercy, begins to shake

things loose.

Hebrews says, “Everything that can be shaken will be shaken, so that what cannot be

shaken may remain” (Hebrews 12:27).

For me, disappointment has often been the tool God uses to reveal where my hope

drifted.

Where I started trusting outcomes instead of obedience.

Where I wanted control instead of surrender.

Where I wanted God to bless my plans instead of trusting His.

And this is what I keep seeing with the men I walk with through Living Spirit Life:

So many of us aren’t devastated because we lost something…

we’re devastated because we asked that thing to carry a weight it was never meant to

carry.

A job cannot hold your identity.

A marriage cannot be your savior.

Your children cannot be your purpose.

Success cannot be your security.

Only Jesus can carry that weight.

The Psalmist says, “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble”

(Psalm 46:1).

Not after trouble. Not when we get it together.

Right in the middle of it.

This doesn’t mean we don’t grieve. I’ve grieved deeply. Jesus wept (John 11:35). Loss

matters. Pain is real. But devastation is not our destiny.

When our hope is anchored in Christ, disappointment may wound us—but it will not

destroy us.

Because the one thing that matters most can never be taken away.

“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me” (Galatians

2:20).

If that’s true—and it is—then nothing this world gives, and nothing this world takes, gets

the final word.

So if you’re disappointed today, you’re not failing. You’re human.

But if you’re devastated, maybe God is inviting you to lay something down and pick Him

back up.

Nearer is better.

And Jesus is enough.

Always.

Mark

Just so you know:

I spent most of my life trying to figure it out myself.

That didn’t work.

The path behind me is marked with skinned knees, real brokenness, and some heartaches that still ache when I think about them. Somewhere along the way, my striving finally wore out—and the quiet, steady call of following Jesus took over.

Many people have loved me along this road, and I am deeply grateful for every one of them. But no one has shaped my understanding of love, surrender, and obedience more than Bob and Judy Hughes.

Calling them my mentors isn’t enough. They were sent to me. And they still are.

Years ago, they wrote a book called Love Focused. If you’re serious about following Jesus, don’t just read it—read it, then read it again. Let it do its work.

Bob and Judy, thank you for loving me when I was unlovable, and for leading me boldly when I had no idea where obedience would take me. Your fingerprints are all over my life—and this ministry.