expectations

Expectations. High ones. Low ones. Somewhere in the middle ones.

I am realizing more and more that my expectations for myself are extremely high, probably unachievable. Most of the time I am not bothered by this. I prefer to work toward the impossible. I know I am a bit of an idealist sometimes, but the rest of the time I am a realist. I balance myself out. Most of the time I really like setting high goals. I like working hard, filling my days, being intentional and structured. I like dreaming at least six impossible things before breakfast (I guess, the Queen of Hearts did offer a bit of wisdom to poor Alice in the midst of Wonderland). But, sometimes these expectations become a bit much. This became quite obvious to me in the last couple weeks when I felt quite confident that there were not enough hours in the day, or days in the week, for me to be able to fulfill all of my commitments, to accomplish all of my plans. I had homework and work and meetings and obligations and spotty Internet and...other expectations I had placed on myself.

And, really, the problem with expectations is that we don't just have them for ourselves. We have them for everyone else, too. We have them for friends, teachers, co-workers, family, and even God. In this, I have realized that my expectations of others are often quite low. This is not because I have terrible people in my life. Quite the opposite. But still, I have low expectations. I think maybe it is because I used to have ridiculously high expectations of others and was disappointed so many times that in a lot of ways I simply gave up expecting. It is not fair, but it is true. I hope that one day it is not true anymore.

I hope especially that it is not true about God. I know that sometimes my expectations are low. I do not doubt for a moment whether or not God has the power, authority, and ability to cast a mountain into the ocean or remove a cancerous tumor instantly or heal my heat-induced mid-afternoon headache. I do not doubt that He can, but I sometimes doubt that He will. I do not expect it. My faith is not dependent upon that. Some may call that maturity, a deep-rooted belief in God's sovereignty even when it is not understood. I like this. Some may call it cowardly, yellow-bellied. I do not like this, but I fear that this may be more accurate. Maybe I expect more of my created being than I do of its Creator. Maybe the many distractions of this world crowd out the great expectations. Maybe I am too afraid of being disappointed to expect anything at all. Maybe, actually most assuredly, there is a loving God who will take my mess and teach me once again what it means to expect wonders that never cease. This is my prayer today.