Sunday, May 16, 2010

Queen of Expectations

I have, for a long time, wanted to learn to surf. I don't live very close to an ocean, but details have never been my strong suit. So, you can imagine my excitement when a friend and I decided to vacation in South Padre for a long weekend! I immediately found a surf school that took reservations online and signed up for the first lesson of the first day we'd be on the island! I was stoked which is a surfing term meaning a little too excited. For weeks before the trip, I researched how to surf so I'd have a leg up on the other beginner surfers. I watched documentaries like the movie- bust Blue Crush and the Beach Boys' Kokomo video endlessly. I would practice in my living room, laying tummy side-down on the "board", paddling out to the deep water where the good waves came in. My imagination went wild. I would hop up on my pretend board and ride the gigantic wave all the way into shore, waving to all the on-lookers and gawkers who had come out from the little touristy shops and beach bars to see the first-timer that could ride the waves better than some of the professionals. Not ALL the professionals, mind you. Just some of them.

Much to my dismay, on the drive down to the island, we had a pretty serious flat that shredded the tire. I spent my surf lesson time sitting in the lobby of a Discount Tire waiting for the not-so-beachy mechanic to put a new tire on the car. Bummer, dude. Totally.

If I were given a crown to wear, it would not be because of my state-recognized beauty like Miss Texas. My crown would be bestowed because of my uncanny ability to set really high expectations upon things that I have absolutely no control over. The Queen of Expectations. May she ever reign.

Expectations. I set them up like a bartender sets up a round of drinks. Most times, my reality cannot keep up with these really creative, albeit imaginary, expectations. I can't write something down in my day-planner without envisioning how it will all pan out in the end. "Dinner with Sandy and Luke at the Oasis".... insert dream sequence music from the movies.... imagine: hugs all around since we haven't seen each other in a while, they'll mention how I look like I'm losing weight, and I'll ask when Sandy is due and what they did with their other two precious children for the night. Dinner will be delicious, but the conversation will be even better, turning into raucous laughter by the end of the night because that is what the three of us do, laugh raucously. Then, we'll fight over the bill and end up paying for our own meals, like we do every time, Then, hugs and talks of how we should do this more often. Luke will get Sandy in the car and then walk me to mine and ask about whatever man is in my life and why he isn't here with us walking me to my car instead of Luke. I'll roll my eyes and tell him to keep praying for that.... insert dream sequence music from the movies. There. All before the ink from my pen dries in my day-planner.

But, the ironic thing - and perhaps a game the Lord plays with me to get me to drop this bad habit - is that those expectations are rarely met. Did you know the Oasis closes early on Sundays. And, Sandy and Luke couldn't find a babysitter for the two precious children, so they just brought them along which would have been fine except that the youngest one didn't feel well and only wanted to be held by his momma, making it hard for Sandy to hug, eat, or laugh raucously. Since the Oasis was closed, we puttered around Grand Prairie looking for another, suitable, place to dine that their kids would like so they would be entertained so we could get down to the business of talking and laughing. But, after 45 minutes, there wasn't another place, other than McDonalds, that appeared suitable. So, McDonalds it was - for less than a half hour until the youngest one threw up, and Luke announced that it was time to go. And as he is stuffing kids and wife into the car, he turns to me and apologizes and says, "I know you don't understand since you don't have a husband or kids..." and he says something else about this being just how things went these days, but I had stopped listening by that point because I could have done without the punch to the gut reminder of how my life's expectations hadn't measured up, either. I walked myself to the car, fighting back tears. This was NOT how the night was supposed to go. Not at all.

But, I wonder how differently I would have felt about the evening had I not had the dream sequence playing in my mind the whole time, telling me how the evening "should" be going.

To be perfectly honest, I don't know how NOT to have expectations about everything I do. It seems automatic to me - it isn't something I think about doing. I just do it - me and Nike.

Control issues. You think?

I come from a long-line of control seekers. The DNA that spirals down from my father's side of the family has firmly implanted the desire to run things, plan things, double check things, control things. And, I am my father's daughter. I guess I figure that if I run things, plan things, double check things, and control things, then I always know what's coming. There is less of a chance that something won't work out; less of a chance that I will be blind-sided; less of a chance that my feelings will get stepped on or that my heart will be mishandled, dropped, and broken. And, even as I type these words, I see the falacy in that idea. Because, obviously, I have heard the call of God on my life to drop my nets and follow Him. And, I have claimed to be a follower, but I am looking at the net still clenched in my hands. Just in case. If I drop the net, then I won't be in control. And, if I am not in control, then someone else will be. And, I just don't know that I can trust someone with my life.

Trust issues. You think?

I went to a local outdoor sports store some years back to overcome a fear that I have of heights. The store has a climbing wall within the store that, on Saturdays, is available to the general public, for a small fee and a signature on a liability consent form, for climbing. I went to climb that wall. I went to conquoer my fears. I had worn all the right clothing, the right kind of shoes, had the harness on, and the okay from the spotter on the ground to begin my climb. I had chosen the beginner side of the climbing wall so the handholds were easy enough to reach. I had read somewhere that the idea to sustain momentum on a climbing wall is to use your feet and legs more than your arms to climb. I have strong, muscular legs, and so I concentrated on using them more than my much weaker arms. I moved quickly, willing myself not to look down or up, just at the spot where I was at the time. I climbed higher and higher, praying that at some point, my fear of heights would drop off before I did. Because, try as I might to make my legs do all the work, my arms began to shake from the strenuous exercise. I tried to ignore it and press on to the top until I came to a very small foothold that I couldn't get my foot comfortably on. The spotter from the ground encouraged me to step quickly on it and pull myself to the next foothold using my arms. My shaking- like-Jello arms. Uh. Good plan, Mr. Know-It-All.... but it wasn't going to work for me. I tried several other ways to get past this stumbling step in my quest to the top of my fear. The spotter tells me again, as if I am deaf and not just overweight and under conditioned and scared to death, that all I need to do is step quickly and pull myself up to the next hold with my arms. I couldn't do it. All this monkey-ing around had atrophied my arms even more. I became very aware that I was going to let go before I was going to be able to overcome the challenging step. And, I wasn't sure what the harness was for, but I suddenly felt very afraid of free-falling all the way down to the ground in the middle of this outdoor sports store. "I can't go any further." I said in defeat to the spotter on the ground. "You're done?" he calls back up. "I'm done." I confirm. "Okay," he says, "Just let go of the wall. I'll let you down slowly." I'm sorry, what?! Let go of the wall! I had thought the climb was the way to overcome my fears. No, no. It had nothing on what it took me to let go of the wall and trust the spotter on the ground to lower me down to the ground. I fought some kind of strong armed demons up there on that wall, hanging by thin threads of arms, knowing I was going to have to let go and trust this man for two seconds with my life. The story is anti-climactic. I did let go. I free-fell all of a millimeter and then he slowly lowered me down as he had been trained to do, I assume. I somehow managed to thank the spotter, pay my money, gather my pride and that fear of heights up and headed to my car before I realized that I was going to have to try it again. I hadn't accomplished anything I had planned, save for not peeing in my pants in front of the group of customers who had gathered to watch me climb. Trusting people is hard for me. You can imagine how much harder it is for me to trust a spotter I can't even see with my life. But, that is exactly what Christ has called us to do; He asks us to bring all of our worries, all of our plans, all of our control, all of our expectations and place them in His hands. He has called us to drop whatever we are doing and follow Him. He has asked us to trust Him with our lives. And, I struggle with it. I pray every night that He'll take my life and make it into something that only He can. And, I fight with Him every morning to have my life back.

The trophy case I have of things I have worked out all on my own that turned out right is empty. Not one trophy. Not one thing that I have worked out on my own has ever turned out right. Ever. But, I guess I am a hopeless believer that someday it will. Either that or a glutton for punishment or maybe both because I still insist on working for that trophy. I can't imagine anything more scary than to place my life in the hands of someone else. It isn't that I have such a stellar track record in handling my life - I don't.

But, I do have a stellar God. I have a God who is breaking down the wall of my fears and insecurities brick by brick and replacing them with His truths and His ways Scripture by Scripture. I am not good at trusting Him. But, I am getting better at it. And, the interesting thing is that the closer I get to Him, the easier it is to tell Him that I am afraid of trusting Him. And, the more I tell Him of my fears of trusting Him, the clearer He speaks and the closer He comes.

Expectations. I still set them up too quickly, effortlessly, sometimes before I even know that I am doing it. But, I think the more I trust God, the less secure I'll feel in these expectations. Then, I can lay my crown aside and just enjoy the benefits of having a God who has everything under control. Everything.

King of Kings. May He ever reign.

1 comment:

  1. Excellent as usual. Must be genetic--the high expectation part, not the control part. I don't necessarily want to be in control, but I want whoever is to anticipate and follow the script I've written in my mind and heart. Never happens. Love you, Jo Ann

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