Dealing with disappointment: When your Christmas event doesn’t go how you hoped

Disappointment: the feeling of dissatisfaction that follows the failure of expectations or hopes to manifest.

At this time of year, many of us pour our hearts, energy, and courage into Christmas events. We prepare talks, bake cakes, decorate tables, and pray that the people who come—whether friends, neighbours, or colleagues—might hear something of the hope of Christ. And yet, once the dust settles, many of us are left with a lingering sense of regret. We replay what we said, critique what we didn’t say, and wonder why things felt different in the moment than they did in our heads.

If that’s you, you’re not alone. Disappointment and I are old friends. I write more about this in the chapter “She Needs Help Failing”, where I explore why failure can feel so heavy for many of us. As I say in the book,

“Failure and rejection are part of life, and yet our inability to handle them is a massive drawback. When something goes wrong, women personalise it and feel that they have failed in some way. 

When the Talk Doesn’t Go as Planned

Recently, I was asked, at just a week’s notice, to speak at a women’s Christmas craft event. I should have said no. I knew that. But I said yes anyway. What followed was a frantic scramble to put something, anything, together. I didn’t know the group well, the culture felt different from my own church, and I had no idea what they expected from the talk.

I regretted saying yes almost immediately.

Still, the talk happened. It wasn’t my best, but the organiser thanked me warmly, and chatting afterward I even felt encouraged. But on the drive home, embarrassment crept in and later, when I heard feedback, that guests had mostly heard stories about my family, I felt I had let the event down, and those feelings deepened.

This wasn’t the first time I’d faced this kind of disappointment.

When No One Shows Up

In the summer I’d planned a workshop that had always been popular, but as the start date approached, the sign-ups were painfully low. Eventually, the only thing we could do was cancel. I was devastated. I questioned everything: What am I doing? If God is really in this, shouldn’t my work be flourishing?

Unhelpful comments resurfaced about my decision to leave a large, vibrant charity and work on my own. Scrolling through social media didn’t help either - everyone else seemed to be thriving, hosting sell-out conferences and celebrating record numbers. In contrast, I felt like a failure because everything I was doing just felt so, very, small.

And yet, God often does His most faithful work in places that feel small and unimpressive. As Jon Bloom reminds us in his article Do Not Despise the Day of Small Things,

“God loves to take what is small and unimpressive in the world’s eyes, and fill it with surprising power.”

Those words steadied me. My cancelled workshop wasn’t proof that God had stopped working, it was a reminder that God does not despise small things. Sometimes we do, but He never does.

When Others Feel It Too

After this year’s round of Christmas events, several women wrote to share their own discouraging moments:

Heather shared that her evangelistic event had to be postponed, and when it finally happened, only three people came. Yet the conversation afterward was rich and honest, and she left encouraged by God’s presence in the smallness.

Ruth hosted an event in her own home - prepped, spoke, tidied, prayed - and only a handful showed up. After pouring herself out, she felt exhausted and alone.

Sarah admitted that she was tempted to focus on numbers and the lack of response in her church. “How fickle can I be?” she wrote.

Their honesty reminded me: if you’re someone who organises or speaks at events, discouragement isn’t an exception. It’s inevitable.

John Hindley writes in Dealing with Disappointment:

“Christ-like ministry will be disappointing… if you love Jesus and love others, then strangely, your ministry will disappoint you more.”

Why? Because we long for more. We long for others to hear more about and come to know Jesus for themselves - and so we feel the ache when things fall flat.

A Harder Context for Women

1. Fewer Opportunities to Speak

For many women, Christmas is the one clear opportunity each year to give a talk. When an entire year rests on a single moment, the pressure is enormous. With fewer spaces to practise and grow, disappointment feels heavier.

2. A Lonely, Pioneer Road

Many women are pioneering events—sometimes with church support, sometimes completely alone in their homes or local spaces. The isolation adds weight. If the event doesn’t go well, it can feel like proof that the idea itself isn’t worth continuing. 

What Our Disappointment Reveals

So what do we do with disappointment?

For me, disappointment reveals that I hoped for more. And that’s not wrong. It’s worth writing down what you were hoping for, and why.

Perhaps:

  • You hoped friends would come.

  • You hoped the talk would land more clearly.

  • You hoped the room would be full.

  • You hoped this would be the moment someone softened spiritually.

Disappointment exposes our longings, not to shame us, but to invite us to bring them honestly before God.

Disappointment as an Invitation

Disappointment is rarely just about the event itself. It reveals what we value, what we long for, and where we’re placing our hope. And while the ache is real, it doesn’t have to be wasted. God is present in the small numbers, the awkward moments, the talks that felt flat, the events that didn’t go to plan. He sees the hidden hours of preparation, the courage it takes to speak, and the longing you carry for others to know Christ. We may need to hear again the word of the prophet Zechariah, spoken to a people captivated with the big: 

“do not despise the day of small things.”

We may measure success by turnout, feedback, or how “together” we felt. God measures it by faithfulness.

Each disappointment is an invitation:
to draw near,
to be honest with Him,
to recalibrate our expectations,
and to let Him grow resilience, humility, and dependence within us.

So if you’ve come away from this season feeling discouraged, you’re not alone—and you’re not disqualified. You are seen, loved, and called to keep going. And in every small, unseen act of obedience, He is at work in ways we may never fully witness this side of eternity.

Take heart. The God who works through weakness is the same God who meets us in disappointment—and gently shapes us through it.

by Nay Dawson

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