Managed Expectations

Expectations can be a tricky thing.  In any avenue of life, they can provide you the confidence to step up to the plate, or they can cause your hopes to plummet to record lows when they're not met.  In my early 20s, I was full of high expectations.  Everything was going to be on a grand scale.  I was meant to end up in New York working for a record label and travel the country seeking new acts to sign.  I would have a completely fabulous rock star boyfriend and would go on the road with him when my job allowed and be the girl in the crowd he sang to during "that" song.  I would stay grounded by being actively involved in my chosen church, which is where I'd go to recenter on my whole reason for being in between road trips. 

Needless to say, my life took a different path.  My expectations weren't met.  As I began to realize the original set wasn't really going to happen, my expectations adapted.  They became more about making the place where I am as great as it could possibly be.  Does an adaptation make it any less great?  From where I sit today, not at all.  Sure, the original plan sounds glamorous and exciting, but as it turns out, I kind of love where I am.  However, there is one glaring area of my life that continues to elude me.  In my original expectation set, I had a rock star boyfriend.  I'd still love a rock star boyfriend, but in my adapted reality, his life style probably doesn't fit with mine.  However, I have no adapted version of him.  Is he an engineer, a lawyer, a hobo?  No clue.  Why does this confound me?  In literally every other part of my life, I've adapted, and without fail God has provided a gloriously enhanced version of anything I expected.  The second I think I've begun piecing together this idea of what could be, it falls apart and the expectation dies.  I've started to question whether an expectation should exist at all for me. 

The answer to that is no.  I can't expect.  How does this effect hope?  At the moment, it challenges hope to its very core.  At the same time, I feel completely selfish for that.  I have an unbelievably blessed life.  How could I even ask for one more thing?  I can because no matter how disheartening every unmet expectation is, I have this hope inside me that just won't die.  There are times I want it to because it can be painful.  However, without it, life would be different in a gray kind of way.  Despite pain, I love color.  It has the potential to change your outlook into something you might not have pictured for yourself.  It opens your eyes to things you didn't see before.  It changes you.  I've been trying to teach myself to manage my expectations.  This has been an arbitrary pursuit.  I can't do it.  I will always hope for the best possible outcome.  I will always try my hardest.  I will always pursue things sincerely and with passion.  To that, I move forward in hope once again.

(Tara - this was my serious one for you ;)