Expectations

Originally from 9/2017—

I had plans. I was going to marry a boy who would travel the world with me, saving it as we invested in community after community. He was going to be from another country, or at least have grown up in another country; far, far from here. I would have beautiful brown babies, a blend of him, and my white Alabama skin. He wouldn’t be an American. Not a typical one, at least. I practically made my friends swear they’d keep me to it. He would be the kindest, and most passionate, and hard working, and God-loving man I had met. I was picky, you see. Very picky - with my imagined relationship. I had never dated in high school or college, because I was keeping my heart for him, whoever he was. I prayed and prayed my heart out, and worked hard to become that medical provider who would save the world. I didn’t rest much, and didn’t like myself so much, but life was going to be worth something. And he was going to be amazing, just you see.

Then I met Trevor. He was a direct descendant of a signer of the Declaration of Independence. He was as American as you could get. He loved baseball, and cruises with his family. Cruises! He was tall, and skinny, and white, white white. He was one of those people who always went deep in conversation, and asked hard questions. His personality lined up with types like Al Gore, and Winston Churchill. He said what he meant, and I thought he was so rude for it. My friends, understandably, gently said he wasn’t right, at least not for me. He was a blend of the most content, laid back person, and the most thirsty dreamer all at once. He wanted more of God more than anyone I had ever met; but he was also so satisfied that this good God would meet him and that life would continue getting better and better. His tall, thin body was so often lounging back, deep in a conversation, unafraid of conflict. Because conflict would undoubtedly bring more opportunity for understanding, more healing, and more peace. He was the most hopeful person I had ever met. He met my insecurities and anxiety with excitement and hope that I would find deep peace. He laughed in the face of fear, because he couldn’t wait to see what was on the other side of it. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that this man, who was so opposite all that I wanted, was what my heart needed all along. I shocked my self when I couldn’t imagine a life without him.

His healing love brought out a love for myself. He introduced me, in deeper ways, to the love of Father God, who was never afraid of my failings and fears. I found peace like a quiet river, or the shade beneath a huge oak tree. His rest calmed my striving. And yet, I accomplished more with him than I did before I learned to rest.
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Interesting how expectations go. Sometimes they help guide you into a life of meaning or fullness as you keep your eyes on your dreams. Other times they threaten to keep you from the very things that make life full and rich. I want to be hopeful enough to long hold on to dreams, and wise enough to see where there is more life and depth a little to the left of that tightly-held expectation. To realize that there can be a much better story than 12, or 17, or 34 year old me knew to write when I penned it in ink and ideas. To be open to growth outside of those pages.