Often, life does not live up to our expectations. Are we just supposed to stop expecting things? I’m not sure that is possible. In a way, I think we are evolutionarily designed to have expectations. I would say it’s part of our brain’s ability to perform complex planning. But at the same time, sometimes expectations cause us unnecessary discomfort. The trick lies in managing them, although I admit, sometimes that sounds like some nebulous psycho-babble to me.
When it comes to expectations of life in general, I find that there is no harm in planning with an expected outcome in mind, as long as I am aware that there are always factors over which I have no control, and as long as I am prepared to accept a different outcome. That’s good management.
The times I have the most trouble with expectations are, ironically, when I think I am on a path God has specially chosen just for me. Times when serendipity seems to be telling me “This is what God wants you to do”, but then the path doesn’t end up the way I thought it would. That can lead to a world of disappointment.
One example was when I separated from my second husband. I did want some things in that marriage to change. Mostly I wanted my autonomy, freedom from my ex-husband’s controlling behavior, but I also loved him and hoped for a reconciliation. We were separated for over a year before our divorce, but many times along the way, coincidences happened that made me believe a reconciliation was possible. When the divorce was finalized, I felt like God had betrayed me. I literally stared at the divorce decree feeling, “This is so wrong. This is not how this story is supposed to end.” But, of course, it did.
To this day, I do not understand those coincidences. I have often said, “When I get to Heaven, God has some ‘splaining to do!” I can only assume that this was God’s intended path, but the intended outcome is beyond my understanding. At least I can say I’ve had many happy years since then.
My current God-conundrum relates to the book I’ve written. Things are just not going the way I thought they would. The whole time I was writing the book, I literally felt like God was sitting on my shoulder talking to me. I heard God telling me clearly, “Just tell the story.” And again, when I would feel nervous or discouraged, I would hear, “Just tell the story.” I also thought I heard God telling me pretty clearly, “This is for NAMI.” And when I was done, I thought I heard, “Your life is about to change, and it will never, ever again be the same.”
Wow, that was all very real to me, but to say I was naïve is an understatement. My one son kept telling me, “You better get used to rejection.” At that time, I wasn’t the least bit concerned about rejection. I felt I had written a good book, I felt it was divinely inspired, I felt anyone who read the book would agree. I was already even planning my TED talk!
What I didn’t expect was that I wouldn’t even be able to get anyone’s attention. 1.5 million people in the United States self-publish books every year. That’s an unbelievable statistic, I had no idea. Literary agents are overwhelmed by submissions. Volunteer reviewers are overwhelmed by submissions. Even paid reviewers won’t give results for months. NAMI isn’t picking up the phone.
Now that I’ve had time to think about it, this seems an obvious outcome. It’s a wild world out there with so much information from so many different technologies, it’s extremely difficult to even make a blip on the radar. There are a lot of talented people out there with stories to tell. There are books and blogs and internet news and social media darlings. How does one rise above that cacophony? It literally seems impossible, but the petty half of me is saying, “But didn’t God promise me?”
So even though I thought heard, “Your life is about to change,” I should have remembered a few things: first, God has a weird sense of humor; second, my time is not God’s time; and third, it may be God’s plan but it may not be my outcome.
For now, I can change my expectations. Just because my immediate expectations haven’t been met, I’m not going to say, “I’m not going to play this game anymore, I’m taking my marbles and going home.”
I can stay in the game until this path comes to an end.
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