Expectations
Do you ever catch yourself day-dreaming, fantasizing and imagining what your future will be like? If you're anything like me, you do.
Sometimes my imaginary future looks like studying on a college campus for the perfect degree that will get me the perfect job, which will not involve desk work, offices with no windows, or 9-5 hours. Then, I get bored with that future and envision myself country-hopping with an amazing band, playing my favorite music every night. But perhaps that future is a little crazy. Maybe I just want a 50-acre farm with a wonderful husband, happy children and a blossoming garden.
No matter what I imagine for myself, whether big or small, whether it will happen tomorrow or ten years from now, I put expectations on myself, on my future. And don't we all? In a year from now, I hope I'm wiser, healthier, richer, happier, more traveled, less stressed...
Hold for a second. Let me state that there is nothing inherently wrong with expectations. They can help us set and keep goals, offer us hope when we're feeling down, give us something to look forward to in life.
But...expectations go awry when they turn into worry. Worry that we'll never succeed, never make it out of this rut, never become all we could be. When we silence God with our expectations, or our worry, they become an idol.
Honestly, I can be terrible about doing this. I don't know how it happens, but one minute I'm hopefully day dreaming, and the next, I'm pouting in despair at the improbability of my life going anywhere. How do I let Satan so craftily sneak into my thoughts, sloshing handfuls of black paint all over the masterpiece God's built in my heart? How can I turn my despondency into hope and stop making my expectations an idol?
God answered this question for me by placing in my hands my journal from last year. And when I looked into my past, God undeniably revealed how much more capable He is of taking care of my future than I am.
In October of last year, I was working a pretty tough job. Mornings that started at 3:30 a.m. Coworkers who used more curse words than not. Managers that didn't seem to realize we needed to eat at some point during a 12-hour shift. Spiritually, I felt like my faith was all works and no relationship. I had grown jaded and bored and thirsty for, well, I wasn't even sure what for. Just for more.
My life felt stuck. Hopeless. Waiting for something that was never going to happen. Thankfully, I got a new job, but I knew it still wasn't right. I started going to different churches. Nothing. Nothing felt right.
Then, I heard about YWAM for the first time. And within four months, I found myself on a plane headed for Northern Ireland.
I wanted to see people healed, led closer to Christ. I wanted to see miracles. I wanted to make relationships, explore a new country, and of course, grow closer to Christ.
Never did I expect to work with children...and actually love it! Never did I think I would fall in love with a little girl named Elle, feed the homeless with four nuns, learn about Catholicism or create another world through painting a prayer closet. When I imagined my outreach, I didn't picture myself fighting against Satan in the ruins of an old hotel, or sharing my testimony in a packed little church in Scotland. Never did I think I would pen a poem for someone I had never met, share Christ with a woman from Pakistan, or feel a part of my heart break with every good-bye I said.
But one thing I never, ever expected to happen while on outreach in Scotland...was to learn my mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer.
I think it was in that heart-stopping moment, as I watched every expectation I held onto crumble instantly, that I finally realized my future was never mine to keep. And trying to hold on would only cause more pain. And when I laid down my dreams and plans, that is when God spoke.
He surrounded me with some of the most loving, deeply caring people I've ever had the privilege to know. Jesus calmed my worry and fear, reassuring me that no matter what happened, my family was going to be okay. He gave me the strength to "do evangelism" out of a sincere heart, even when inside I felt like crying and wishing I wasn't so insanely far away from my family. God left me wanting for nothing.
It's been nearly two months since that week. In these two months, I have finally, finally begun to learn what it means to trust God. What it actually feels like in my chest, in my soul, in the deepest part of who I am to fully feel every emotion: sadness, confusion, anger...and yet not let worry pollute my heart. God has showed me that though the sand around my ankles may be shifting, the rock on which I'm standing hasn't budged. And yes, every one of my expectations was stripped away. But oh how much better are the Lord's expectations!
Because God doesn't expect me, on my own, to change my community, to reach every lost artist's soul, or to always have to perfect word on the end of my tongue.
My God expects me to rely on Him, to love Him, to listen to His voice, to jump up and run when He tells me to. And though His expectations can be just as nerve-wracking, at least when I am chasing Jesus, I am never alone.
Last October, I chased my own expectations and failed. This October, and every day afterwards, I pray that I continue chasing Christ's.
Sometimes my imaginary future looks like studying on a college campus for the perfect degree that will get me the perfect job, which will not involve desk work, offices with no windows, or 9-5 hours. Then, I get bored with that future and envision myself country-hopping with an amazing band, playing my favorite music every night. But perhaps that future is a little crazy. Maybe I just want a 50-acre farm with a wonderful husband, happy children and a blossoming garden.
No matter what I imagine for myself, whether big or small, whether it will happen tomorrow or ten years from now, I put expectations on myself, on my future. And don't we all? In a year from now, I hope I'm wiser, healthier, richer, happier, more traveled, less stressed...
Hold for a second. Let me state that there is nothing inherently wrong with expectations. They can help us set and keep goals, offer us hope when we're feeling down, give us something to look forward to in life.
But...expectations go awry when they turn into worry. Worry that we'll never succeed, never make it out of this rut, never become all we could be. When we silence God with our expectations, or our worry, they become an idol.
Honestly, I can be terrible about doing this. I don't know how it happens, but one minute I'm hopefully day dreaming, and the next, I'm pouting in despair at the improbability of my life going anywhere. How do I let Satan so craftily sneak into my thoughts, sloshing handfuls of black paint all over the masterpiece God's built in my heart? How can I turn my despondency into hope and stop making my expectations an idol?
God answered this question for me by placing in my hands my journal from last year. And when I looked into my past, God undeniably revealed how much more capable He is of taking care of my future than I am.
In October of last year, I was working a pretty tough job. Mornings that started at 3:30 a.m. Coworkers who used more curse words than not. Managers that didn't seem to realize we needed to eat at some point during a 12-hour shift. Spiritually, I felt like my faith was all works and no relationship. I had grown jaded and bored and thirsty for, well, I wasn't even sure what for. Just for more.
My life felt stuck. Hopeless. Waiting for something that was never going to happen. Thankfully, I got a new job, but I knew it still wasn't right. I started going to different churches. Nothing. Nothing felt right.
Then, I heard about YWAM for the first time. And within four months, I found myself on a plane headed for Northern Ireland.
I had no idea what to expect coming into DTS. But I can tell you now that whatever subconscious expectations I did have were completely blown. On DTS, I found a love that left me speechless, worship that made me shout, beauty that demanded the Creator's praise, truth that left my brain hurting but desperate for more. I had walked out of a desert into a tsunami, and God was healing wounds in my heart that I didn't know were there. He was speaking truth I didn't know I needed to hear. He was showing me parts of His heart that I had never seen before.
And to say it blew my expectations...well, that would be an understatement.
Then came outreach. I had lots of daydreams and plans going into that. We were even asked to write down our expectations for our outreach.I wanted to see people healed, led closer to Christ. I wanted to see miracles. I wanted to make relationships, explore a new country, and of course, grow closer to Christ.
Never did I expect to work with children...and actually love it! Never did I think I would fall in love with a little girl named Elle, feed the homeless with four nuns, learn about Catholicism or create another world through painting a prayer closet. When I imagined my outreach, I didn't picture myself fighting against Satan in the ruins of an old hotel, or sharing my testimony in a packed little church in Scotland. Never did I think I would pen a poem for someone I had never met, share Christ with a woman from Pakistan, or feel a part of my heart break with every good-bye I said.
But one thing I never, ever expected to happen while on outreach in Scotland...was to learn my mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer.
I think it was in that heart-stopping moment, as I watched every expectation I held onto crumble instantly, that I finally realized my future was never mine to keep. And trying to hold on would only cause more pain. And when I laid down my dreams and plans, that is when God spoke.
He surrounded me with some of the most loving, deeply caring people I've ever had the privilege to know. Jesus calmed my worry and fear, reassuring me that no matter what happened, my family was going to be okay. He gave me the strength to "do evangelism" out of a sincere heart, even when inside I felt like crying and wishing I wasn't so insanely far away from my family. God left me wanting for nothing.
It's been nearly two months since that week. In these two months, I have finally, finally begun to learn what it means to trust God. What it actually feels like in my chest, in my soul, in the deepest part of who I am to fully feel every emotion: sadness, confusion, anger...and yet not let worry pollute my heart. God has showed me that though the sand around my ankles may be shifting, the rock on which I'm standing hasn't budged. And yes, every one of my expectations was stripped away. But oh how much better are the Lord's expectations!
Because God doesn't expect me, on my own, to change my community, to reach every lost artist's soul, or to always have to perfect word on the end of my tongue.
My God expects me to rely on Him, to love Him, to listen to His voice, to jump up and run when He tells me to. And though His expectations can be just as nerve-wracking, at least when I am chasing Jesus, I am never alone.
Last October, I chased my own expectations and failed. This October, and every day afterwards, I pray that I continue chasing Christ's.
Comments
Post a Comment