Expectations

You know, I am not naturally gifted at anything.  By that, I mean, I am hard pressed to think of any task, activity, role or relationship that does not demand a lot of my effort. 

For instance, I am not crafty.  Although I long to be able to sew handmade designs for my three girls or create funky hair accessories, I cannot.  In fact, I can (sadly) barely replace a button.  Yet, somewhere, that knowledge is lost…as I sit down to Play-doh.  Why does my sculpture still look like a blob (albeit, slightly tall-looking) rather than the Degas ballerina I intended?  If Michael can make an ostrich out of pipe cleaner, brown paper and feathers, why can’t I?  My husband (and kiddos) easily out “craft” me.  But, I expected myself to be different…slightly more innovative and creative.
 
Expectations… I have so many of those. 

I have expectations of myself -- of what I am to do, in what manner of time, with what outcome...

I have expectations of my husband.

My children.

My home.

My church.

My family.

My friends.

My life.

I have so many expectations.  And, I despise them. 

Why, you may wonder, would “expectations” ever provoke such a response?!  Here is my answer. 

I discovered two definitions of expectation (or expect).  They are as follows:  1) to look for as likely to happen or arrive; look forward to, and 2) to consider as due and proper.  There, in the very middle of the meaning – where definitions 1 and 2 meet – lies my problem.  Perhaps, in the beginning, my expectations are more like wish lists; while I would enjoy a spa day filled with relaxation and pampering, I do not consider this highly likely.  In short, I do not consider this my “due and proper” treatment.  However, most of my expectations leave this “look forward to” stage quickly.  They rapidly morph into what I “consider as due and proper”. 

For example, last week, I attempted to order groceries online.  My hope was to have larger, heavier items (i.e., bottled water, detergent, milk, cereals, etc.) delivered to my home.  This way, my market trips could be less frequent and less physically strenuous.  I selected a day and time for delivery.  The day and time passed.  I called the (Russian) customer care number.  I selected a new day and time for delivery.  That time, too, came and went.  No groceries, again.  I expected my groceries.  Where were they?  Why did I not receive what I considered my “due and proper”?!  I CALLED.  All I felt was frustration.  I had counted on something, and I didn’t get it.  Suddenly, this seemingly minor expectation brought forth a mountain of anger.  I rushed to my bedroom, with hot tears running down my face. 

My expectations have a way of doing that.

I am finding, though, that more deadly expectations lurk in my heart.  There is a “due and proper” way I should parent; I fall short daily.  There is a “due and proper” way I should keep a home; that only happens about part of the time… There is a “due and proper way” I should be a helpmate and wife to my husband; well, that one just stings…

I can never meet these expectations.  But, by golly, I try to.  I try, really hard.  I am so concentrated on these efforts that I don’t notice the yoke I’m slipping around my own neck – that is, until it chokes me.  Expectations I have created weigh on my soul.  They squeeze the joy out of my heart.  They enslave me. 

For a long time, I thought expectations were synonymous with motivators.  I have since discovered, in my life, they are not… particularly, when what I “consider due and proper” is placed on someone else, like my husband.  When we were first married (and, perhaps, once in a while still), I expected Michael to want to talk about, well, everything, as much as I did.  I thought we would talk for hours – effortlessly.  Remembering myself almost twelve years ago makes me chuckle (and shirk).  But, those expectations of mine led to many misunderstandings, frustrations and outright sin.  Why?  They were MINE, my ideas of what was “due and proper”.  I did not consult Michael.  I was sure my expectations were enough for the two of us.  I only fleetingly considered God’s Word.  I had this figured out, right?!  As you can imagine, a crash and burn were in my immediate future – many of them, actually. 

I had to be taught – repeatedly.  I am being taught, now.  When my expectations become the standard, there is no room for any other.  There is no place for what the Lord considers “due and proper.”  There is only me.  (Yuck)  Frankly, I don’t want to live in such a place… it reminds me too much of a jail cell.         

The truth, the real truth - that is often overshadowed by these many things - proves the only way to freedom.  I only have to look.  Paul tells the Galatians, “It was for freedom that Christ set us free; therefore keep standing firm and do not be subject again to a yoke of slavery.”  I only have to look at the Cross.  In that moment, on a hill, beside two thieves, the God of the Universe took “my due and proper” treatment; Christ bore the punishment I, a sinner, should expect.  Yet, the Cross accomplishes more than that.  Not only will I never experience the wrath of God for my sin, but now “you [ME] are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus.  For all of you [that would be ME, too] who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.”  What expectation is left to meet, when gazing at the Cross?!  Through the saving work of Christ, I am free from my bondage to, longing for and life of sin; I am free.  The prison doors are open.  I am brought into the family of the One, True God.  And, when the Heavenly Father gazes in my direction, every inch of my life is covered by the perfect sacrifice of His Son.  Who could want more?! 

The truth is, I will fail.  So will those around me.  It is inevitable.  We cannot fulfill all the expectations we have.  We don’t have to.  In fact, we were not created to meet them.  We were made to trust in the One who exceeds every expectation – the Lord, Jesus Christ.     

So, are expectations bad?  Certainly not; I would simply like to keep mine inside definition #1.