I’m Expecting

I’ve been thinking quite a bit about expectations lately.
I have many.  Whether that is a good or bad thing doesn’t matter because anticipating the future is part of my personality, a part which has led to some of my most enjoyable seasons and also some of my hardest.  The problem begins when  expectational me hangs out with perfectionist me.  Perfectionism is a trait I am retraining slowly.  I apparently overlooked it in this area of my life as I find it running rampant.  Expectational me hopes things will be a certain way, then perfectionist me sweeps in yelling, “Wrong! wrong! wrong! None of this is how it should be. IT IS ALL A CATASTROPHIC FAILURE!”   When I allow perfectionist to be the only voice I hear, I allow myself to be robbed of anything that is good about the situation, and even worse, feeling as though I was cheated out of something that was owed.

Robbed and cheated: I’ve heard about someone who works in exactly those ways- seeking to kill, steal and destroy.

It’s a difficult realization.  I’ve been using the enemy’s own weapons against myself, and doing it so perfectly that he doesn’t even have to come near.  But as in all things, something difficult has a positive side. Despite the fact that I may have been my own worst enemy, I also have the most deeply vested interest in changing this pattern of behavior. I can control the way I respond and react, not quickly or all at once, but slowly, changing small behaviors one at a time which eventually leads to big change.

I believe expectations are good, but I also believe that I need to stop expecting events to unfold just-so.  Life happens. Usually it happens without input, advice or direction from me, but my response doesn’t have to just happen. I don’t have to let the perfectionist run around screaming and pointing out all the flaws. I could, in fact, let the wide-eyed wondering me take over. She likes to point out the beautiful things, the things that are seldom noticed by a frantically screaming perfectionist. She has mastered the art of being still and observing small miracles, but she is inherently quiet, so she seldom receives my full attention. It’s time to change that too.

The words “slow, small and still” continue to speak wholeness  over my life in the most beautiful ways.  Their very unassuming nature waits on my reflection and acceptance of what is and who I am and guides me gently in finding the answers to the differences I seek. What I am learning is not to let go of my expectations, but to temper them, and to allow reality the grace to be different then I imagined but to be beautiful anyway.

A thief is only there to steal and kill and destroy. I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed of.

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