Email Recap Blog Post When Life Brings Disappointment: Finding Hope in the Gospel

Life has a way of disappointing us. The Irish poet Seamus Heaney captured this universal experience in his famous poem "Blackberry Picking." He told the story of collecting blackberries as a child, carefully storing them in a shed, hoping they would last forever. But inevitably, he would return to find them rotting—a "rat-gray fungus" consuming what had once been sweet and fresh. Year after year, he hoped they'd keep. Year after year, they didn't.

"I always felt like crying," Heaney wrote. "It wasn't fair."

Though Heaney wasn't writing from a Christian perspective, he wasn't wrong about life. The hills of joy are often followed by valleys of disappointment. The question for those of us who follow Christ isn't whether disappointments will come—they will—but how we'll respond when they do.

The Reality of Disappointment
The Apostle Paul's final letter to Timothy doesn't shy away from life's harsh realities. Writing from a Roman prison cell, bound in chains and facing execution, Paul opens a window into his soul and reveals seven profound disappointments that mirror struggles we all face:
Betrayal by a close friend. Demas, once a faithful companion in ministry, had abandoned Paul. "In love with this present world," Paul writes, Demas simply left. Whether drawn away by a woman, money, comfort, or simply the desire for a "normal" life, he deserted Paul when he was needed most.

Crushing loneliness. Paul's ministry partners had scattered across the Roman world. Some were doing good work elsewhere—Titus in Dalmatia, Crescens in Galatia. Others Paul had sent away himself. Trophimus was sick. Erastus remained in Corinth. "Luke alone is with me," Paul writes, and you can almost hear the ache in those words.

The weight of regret. When Paul asks Timothy to bring Mark with him, calling him "useful for ministry," there's a backstory of broken relationship. Paul had once refused to work with Mark after the young man abandoned him in Pamphylia. The disagreement was so intense that Paul and Barnabas—dear friends—had parted ways over it. Now, years later, Paul must have reflected on his harsh judgment with some regret.

Material lack. "Bring the cloak I left with Carpus at Troas," Paul requests. Winter was coming to Rome, and Paul was cold. Even basic necessities were uncertain.

Unfair attacks. Alexander the coppersmith had done Paul "great harm"—likely contributing to his imprisonment through lies and false accusations. The innocent suffer at the hands of the malicious. It happened to Jesus. It happened to Paul. It happens still.

An uncertain future. "Do your best to come to me soon," Paul pleads with Timothy. "Do your best to come before winter." The urgency is palpable, but so is the uncertainty. Paul hopes, but he doesn't know.

Friends who fail us. Perhaps most painfully, Paul writes: "At my first defense, no one came to stand by me, but all deserted me." No one. Not a single person showed up when Paul needed them most.

These aren't abstract theological problems. They're the stuff of real life—betrayal, loneliness, regret, financial pressure, slander, uncertainty, and abandonment. If you're breathing, you know at least one of these disappointments intimately.

The Gospel Changes Everything
But here's where the story takes a remarkable turn. Despite these crushing circumstances, Paul's letter radiates an almost inconceivable confidence and hope. The disappointments are real, but they're not the dominant theme. Why? Because the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ transforms everything—including our disappointments.
Look at how grace works its way through Paul's responses:

About Mark: Paul doesn't hold a grudge or dig in his heels. He simply says Mark is "useful for ministry." When the kingdom of God matters most, you're free to admit you were wrong and move forward. The work of Christ comes first.

About Alexander: "The Lord will repay him according to his deeds." When you believe a righteous Judge sits on the throne, you don't need to settle scores. You can give it to God and carry on with your life, unburdened by bitterness.

About those who deserted him: "May it not be charged against them." Paul forgives. When you've experienced Christ's forgiveness for your own failures, you can extend forgiveness to others. Your friends can let you down and still be your friends.

About facing trials: "The Lord stood by me and strengthened me." Paul was absolutely certain that when life brought unthinkable trials, God would provide the strength needed. You don't need strength today for tomorrow's battles. But when tomorrow comes, God will be there.

About rescue: "The Lord will rescue me from every evil deed and bring me safely into his heavenly kingdom." These words only make sense if physical death isn't the worst thing that can happen to you. Demas, sleeping comfortably in Thessalonica "in love with this present world," was in far more danger than Paul in his Roman cell. Demas was losing his soul. Paul was heading home to reign with Christ forever.

Treasures That Last
The final verses of Paul's letter are easy to overlook, but they reveal something beautiful. Paul sends greetings to Prisca and Aquila and Onesiphorus. He passes along greetings from Eubulus, Pudens, Linus, Claudia, and "all the brothers."

These aren't throwaway lines. God's grace had made Paul love his brothers and sisters in Christ. He wanted them to know he was thinking of them, praying for them. And he wanted Timothy to know that others were thinking and praying for him.

God means for us to feel His love partly through other Christians. There's something profoundly important—important enough for the Holy Spirit to preserve in Scripture—about greeting one another, letting people know you love them, telling them you're praying for them.

Here's the central truth: You proclaim what you believe about heaven by how you handle disappointments on earth.

The blackberries will rot. The disappointments will come. Friends will fail you. You'll face loneliness, regret, attacks, and uncertainty. But if you truly believe that Christ has rescued you from sin and death, that He will keep you safe all the way to heaven, that He is the sovereign Lord over history—then you can face every trial with a transformed perspective.
Jesus said it plainly: "Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

The gospel doesn't eliminate disappointment. It transforms it. It colors our darkest moments with bright hope. It releases us from the shackles of this world's sorrows to live with a heavenly freedom.

The question isn't whether life will disappoint you. It will. The question is: where is your treasure? Because where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.