Disappointment
I am disappointed in myself.
I remember how my daughter spilled cherry punch, at dinner. I yelled at her about being careful, as if she revealed a deep character flaw; even though I spill things, all the time, no one yells at me. I yelled at her because I'm big , she's little and I can get away with it. Then I saw that look of hurt and confusion. I knew then there was a tiny wound on her heart and I put it there. I wished I could have taken back those last sixty seconds.
This is one of many disappointments. Sometimes, although I'm aware of how far I fall short, it doesn't even bother me very much. I am disappointed at my lack of disappointment.
John Ortberg
The Life You Always Wanted
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