expectations
Years ago I came to the realization that expectations were at the root of most of my disappointment in life. Expectations - Reality = Level of Disappointment. The higher the expectations, the lower the reality, the higher the level of disappointment. At the time, I started managing my expectations and found that my disappointments decreased as I started laying aside my expectations.
I have been reflecting upon that time in my life as I prepare to encounter a weekend that is often fraught with expectations and subsequent disappointments: Mother's Day weekend. Like so many other holidays, Mother's Day is hyped up by society. Don't forget to buy your mom a gift and a card and get her flowers and take her to brunch. If you forget or don't then you must not really love your mom. That's the message our society speaks and the expectation is set.
And there's another underlying message that's spoken: if you aren't a mom, your value is somehow less. Society places a woman's value on this one thing. If you are a mom, you are celebrated. If you aren't, you are ignored. I'm speaking harshly and generally here. There has been lots of progress as women have spoken out about infertility and miscarriage. I admire those women; they are strong, fierce, and brave. I want to be like those women as I battle expectations.
I have wanted to be a mom for a long time. I always assumed that I would get married and have a passel of kids and grow old with my husband surrounded by our brood. That has always been my expectation. A couple years into trying to make that a reality and my reality is so much less than my expectation.
A couple weeks ago, my husband preached a beautiful sermon on forgiveness, and it struck me that I need to forgive my body for not living up to my expectations. I expected my body to do what women's bodies have done since the beginning, and when it didn't fall into line, I blamed and hated it. So as I adjust my expectations, I'm choosing to forgive my body for not doing what I want and expect it to do.
I don't know what your story is and what your expectations are going into this weekend. Maybe you don't have a good mom or your relationship is strained. Maybe you are a momma to babies that are no longer here or never made it out of the womb. Maybe you are single and desperately wish for a family. Maybe you had an abortion. Maybe you are glad you don't have children and don't want to have children. Maybe your mom isn't here any more. Maybe you are a mom and you feel like you are failing. Maybe you are a husband grieving for the mother of your children.
Last year on Mother's Day, the woman who did our children's moment at church gave all the kids a flower to give to their moms. It was sweet, but my heart hurt because there was no child to bring me a flower. And then the most unexpected thing happened. This lovely woman, who is a mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother, came over to me and handed me one of the flowers she had left, and she thanked me for being a spiritual mother to the church. A small piece of my soul healed in that moment. I, of course, managed to kill that poor flower in about two days flat, but the gesture meant more to me than I could ever express. In that moment, I felt seen.
Whatever your story is going into this weekend, you are seen. You are loved. You are a beloved child of God. I pray that you will be able to fight through the expectations and forgive and rest in the loving arms of God who has not just a father's heart, but a mother's heart as well.
I have been reflecting upon that time in my life as I prepare to encounter a weekend that is often fraught with expectations and subsequent disappointments: Mother's Day weekend. Like so many other holidays, Mother's Day is hyped up by society. Don't forget to buy your mom a gift and a card and get her flowers and take her to brunch. If you forget or don't then you must not really love your mom. That's the message our society speaks and the expectation is set.
And there's another underlying message that's spoken: if you aren't a mom, your value is somehow less. Society places a woman's value on this one thing. If you are a mom, you are celebrated. If you aren't, you are ignored. I'm speaking harshly and generally here. There has been lots of progress as women have spoken out about infertility and miscarriage. I admire those women; they are strong, fierce, and brave. I want to be like those women as I battle expectations.
I have wanted to be a mom for a long time. I always assumed that I would get married and have a passel of kids and grow old with my husband surrounded by our brood. That has always been my expectation. A couple years into trying to make that a reality and my reality is so much less than my expectation.
A couple weeks ago, my husband preached a beautiful sermon on forgiveness, and it struck me that I need to forgive my body for not living up to my expectations. I expected my body to do what women's bodies have done since the beginning, and when it didn't fall into line, I blamed and hated it. So as I adjust my expectations, I'm choosing to forgive my body for not doing what I want and expect it to do.
I don't know what your story is and what your expectations are going into this weekend. Maybe you don't have a good mom or your relationship is strained. Maybe you are a momma to babies that are no longer here or never made it out of the womb. Maybe you are single and desperately wish for a family. Maybe you had an abortion. Maybe you are glad you don't have children and don't want to have children. Maybe your mom isn't here any more. Maybe you are a mom and you feel like you are failing. Maybe you are a husband grieving for the mother of your children.
Last year on Mother's Day, the woman who did our children's moment at church gave all the kids a flower to give to their moms. It was sweet, but my heart hurt because there was no child to bring me a flower. And then the most unexpected thing happened. This lovely woman, who is a mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother, came over to me and handed me one of the flowers she had left, and she thanked me for being a spiritual mother to the church. A small piece of my soul healed in that moment. I, of course, managed to kill that poor flower in about two days flat, but the gesture meant more to me than I could ever express. In that moment, I felt seen.
Whatever your story is going into this weekend, you are seen. You are loved. You are a beloved child of God. I pray that you will be able to fight through the expectations and forgive and rest in the loving arms of God who has not just a father's heart, but a mother's heart as well.
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