Like a Raisin in the Sun

"What happens to a dream differed?  Does it roll down and die like a raisin in the sun?  Or does it just explode?" - Langston Hughes

I remember reading this poem in high school and feeling the disappointment fuse inside of me as it was so clearly made into imagery by Mr. Hughes.  At that time, I was disappointed in my school district, who refused to let me read a speech at my graduation as Salutatorian because I hadn't been at the school long enough.

That poem has crept back in my mind at different times, as things go unexpectedly and I'm washed over with emotion, feeling my hope shrinking into a raisin.  That first college test blown, that first friend forgetting me, or that first project gone awry.  

What is it in us that hopes so much and sets up expectations even when we tell ourselves not to?  It's the inner dream, the hope, the part of us that wants something better than where we are.  I too often put that hope in circumstances and not in God.  He is where my hope can lie, and only there.  I know this, but I'm not sure how to stop the disappointment from coming.

I went to lunch with a guy today who I thought was interested.  We'd been trying to go for a month, and finally after I voiced my frustration, he apologized and we went.  I told myself I wasn't excited, but of course I was just to go on a date.  He let me choose, saying he didn't know of any good places: first disappointment.  Then when the woman asked if we were paying together, he got awkward and said, "I'll get it.  You can get me next time."  Seriously?

I wanted to run away then and go eat lunch by myself under a tree.  (I would have just tossed it, but believe me this Mediterranean food is too good to be abandoned.)  But upon realizing that he did not see it as a date, I tried my best not to show frustration and just talk to him, try to be a tour guide in our conversations about life.  Through conversation I could quickly tell we weren't going the same direction in life and that he was still hung up on his last girlfriend that he lived with for four years.

It was fine.  When he dropped me off, he said he'd had fun and we should do it again.  I just said thanks and got out of the truck...in front of my building for the world to see.

I slunk back to my desk with a heavy heart, a disappointed self that knew before she even went what was going to happen but hoped for more.  

I must just tell myself it's just not God's time for me.  I trust Him with my life, and I know His plan is much better than mine.  I must somehow learn to place my hope, this desire for things to be as they should be, this perfectionist in me, to realize it's my longing for heaven, and this is not my home.

I hear my soul sing, "This world is not my home, I'm just a passing through, My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue..."