What Did You Expect?

It's been over five years since I've written here, or much at all, and I'm slightly dizzy as I revisit here and read where I was, sitting now where I am.

It's been six years that have changed everything. And I never would have seen it coming!

There is something at once magical and broken in the way we shape our dreams and look down the tunneled lens of our perceived futures. I know culture and marketing play a critical role in this, but we are broken when we don't honor rough and organic reality, when we don't teach our kids that struggle and resilience are a normal and necessary part of life, that the best life isn't about being glossy and avoiding discomfort.

But we are stronger when we get comfortable with discomfort. It is a sage adviser, a ready warning, a humbling instruction. Because of all the things we can control (namely ourselves and our own choices, which are two big things), we can get complacent, but life has a way of wrecking the starry-eyed dreamscape we envisioned for ourselves, or we wreck it ourselves, and God is unafraid of that but allows it because that's the natural trajectory that leads to the next lesson we need. That's not always a bad thing! It's sometimes shaped by our choices, the good ones, the bad ones, and the neutral, mundane ones.

I never expected so much of what's happened in my life. My expectations were for healthy service in a healthy ministry, hoping to do some good and maybe encourage some people. My expectations were for a long, faithful marriage well into the golden grandparent years, and for children who were healthy and love the Lord. I expected to have advanced degrees and expertise in a field I felt passionate about. I expected to coast through the milestones of life under a warm sunset glow with beaming smiles and genuine satisfaction with this wonderful, amazing life that gave little trouble but opened like the oyster I was told it would be.

And some of that has happened or still is. Just not how I expected!

I didn't expect radical, RADICAL upheaval.

I didn't expect to have a child receive a scary diagnosis.

I didn't expect to serve tirelessly in a ministry that over time proved itself very sick.

I didn't expect to divorce. Or everything that went with it.

I didn't expect to see some of the people who joined me in the lowest, muddiest ditch of my life, unafraid to sit with me there and hold my hand. I didn't expect to *not* see some people who in cleaner times swore their devotion.

I didn't expect to question God so genuinely. Or for Him to draw so disarmingly close in my vulnerability, despite my volcano of anger.

I didn't expect to remarry. Truth be told, I was wholeheartedly, enthusiastically, and intentionally against it! I bought a ring to wear on my ring finger to ward off interest. I put out the 'so not interested' vibe. Marriage was, at that point in my thinking, super risky, especially with three kids I'd die/kill for, and also potentially insanely stupid as a thing in general. The jury was still out on that. And I had a lot of personal work to do.

I didn't expect to work through so much of my own stuff and learn just how remarkably altering and freeing that process can be. I didn't expect to grow so much as a person, nor that the catalyst for such growth would come through aching, debilitating trauma.

I didn't expect it.

I didn't expect to live in the rugged Outback of gorgeous Australia, to marry my dear friend's widower, to love her children as my own, to have six kids.

I have watched so many other lives around me that haven't unfolded as they'd hoped or expected. Even those who have remained pretty steady and hit many of their benchmarks have faced turns in the road for which no one could have planned. Some have had more trauma and turmoil, while others have just veered along pathways that, while smooth overall, were not even close to the path they'd always envisioned.

It is a gift when we learn to temper our expectations. Not to drop our dreams, mind you, but to temper our expectations. For Christians, it is a gift when we learn that our life is not just governed by how much blessing we get from God in our Westernized, human understanding. It's life-altering to encounter disappointments in life, to feel the blessing it is when God allows us to experience pain, natural consequences, and struggle, because it takes more strength to persevere and grow through those valleys than it does to hold together the perfectly blessed life. That's something we can't do anyway. Some say that struggle in your life is an indication of something you're doing wrong, and sometimes it is. That doesn't make the struggle bad; it's there to help you! And sometimes it's just there, because we live in a fallen world, and difficult things happen.

I have learned through my canceled, rearranged, and splattered-on-the-windshield-of-life's-racecar expectations that I can handle a lot. I don't fear as much or try to control as much. I am disturbingly acquainted with and humbled by my own capacity for sin, and it has grounded me. My desire to administer grace to others has skyrocketed, because I have felt emotional and spiritual and relational pain that has been so fierce, it's made me physically ache and gasp for air. I have also caused that kind of pain, and it grounds me.

The thing is, though, I can look back at all of it and realize this: What I've described so far sounds like a bit of a clustered mess of random interruptions in which real life just freaks out, so buckle up!

But that's only when compared to *my expectations. It's compared to my assumptions and best-laid plans. The truth is, my life has followed a beautiful trajectory where I see the hand and thread of God so effortlessly there and guiding. It took turns based on my great decisions and truly awful ones. And God was there to lead me through and out and into something new at every moment and every thought.

The unhealthy church I mentioned above plays a significant role in this story. It matches almost 100% with the checklist of cult characteristics. At best, it is incredibly unhealthy--controlling, codependent, manipulative--which is something I didn't even comprehend about some churches until I was wrecked by it. One erroneous teaching in that church was sort of a motivational-pep-talk, competitive-minded proposal that said you can have an A Level life or a B Level life. If you mess up too much, you've ruined your chance at your best life, which is A Level, and you're forever stuck with mediocre B Level, or worse, if you keep being stupid.

This has everything to do with performance-based judgement and very little to do with God, His ability to make beauty of ashes, to redeem, to create purpose through our messes, or to build something in us and through us despite and sometimes because of our extreme weakness. The church believed that A Level for me was to stay there and continue serving in a very sick environment that was making its people sick. It behooved them to say that, because they needed people to stay and serve.

But the refreshing reality is that when we live a genuine life seeking and knowing God, *that* is our best life, regardless of the peaks and valleys. We don't break it down into ridiculous levels and categories to measure if we're being good enough today or if we're about to fall from A Level. How exhausting!

What are the expectations you've had that didn't pan out the way you'd anticipated, hoped, or planned? How did it turn out, and what did you gain from it, even if it tore you up? What expectations were placed on you that you took on, aware or not? Maybe you're still sorting that out. Maybe you're still feeling the overwhelming burden of a major twist in your story. We're all cycling through different seasons at any given moment, but the longer you live, the more familiar the seasons are when you see them, and maybe you can empathize or lend a hand, or beg for help if you're the one in a difficult place. So many of these scenarios require healing, which is an important and beautiful process.

Our expectations gone awry always have a lesson of strength in them if we'll look for it. And of course to dream and plan with God-given vision is still so very magical. But my expectations of how that will look are minimized. Where before I held on so tightly with the white-knuckled fist, I now have a loose hold on the reins or my hands are completely open, palms up, broken, redeemed, grateful, and so much stronger. "But by the grace of God go I" has become so real to me. To an untrained ear, it *can* sound weak and defeatist. But to the ear that's been trained through struggle and redemption, it sounds like victory. There is no more powerful freedom than standing solidly planted on the mountaintop of God's grace.

How often it is a blessing that our expectations aren't met.