Not my will...

My expectations come by what I've learned; from mother's lap to my own readings in bed.  I was molded by the corrections and love of my parents. The avenues of my mind, its hallways and doors were opened by the Bible and the classics. Convinced of regaling tales of honor, nobility, sacrifice; where hard trials temper the best of characters and there is neither complaint nor slandering heart. A personal gain at the loss of another - considered the utmost of depravity. Many nights, I quivered and cried upon my pillow for the selfless examples portrayed and waited for my trials. Oh! How I'd be on guard, careful with whom I spoke and utmost cautious of my own sinful nature. I had been convicted by the words of the Bible, converted by Jesus Christ and in knowing myself, I felt prepared.

But I am here. In a trial. And I'm noticing it is not either singular or definite among the flowing current of  people and time.  It is life and it's volume of trials, vast. A constant swirling, upturning of its murky floor,  tossing 'round and 'round. What a common occurrence! So common, I was not prepared.

I am tossed, some days more than others. In my tumult I find complaints deep inside my heart. How great my expectations! And none to come true? Why me? Have I not done well? Was there fault in my surrender?
Do I not deserve better as a child of God? Is this my portion? I know a better way! I have the promises of God given to me!
I seek counsel and they discern with their culture, "they treat my wounds superficially saying,  peace, peace, when there is no peace."
I think, better not to have known? For then I would not see so clearly, harshly the gaping absence of kindness, courage.  I am come to understand a world where people talk and it is manipulation and witchcraft as they gnash their teeth and division erupts. Coated behind offers of good are motives, self seeking. Rejected hearts seeking to control, accusing hearts seeking revenge; the deceiving controller is upheld and I feel the freezing rebuke of the tide swell and crash upon my heart. Oh heart! of high expectations!
Drowning out my rights. Choking my demands, soaking my mind until thoughts are frozen and numb. Worn from the swells I emerge, dripping hair and lips blue; the salt dries upon my skin and I lay upon the shore, desperate. afraid. angry. exposed.
I retain what I ought to forget. I lose my sword and succumb to the very terrors I once believed myself exempt.
How do I let go of what I know?
I must.
A Surrender is of more worth than any fulfilled expectation.
To let go and let God, cringes my mind-  so pithy and trite it sounds.
Yet, the grief of the trial does not compare to the weight of surrender.  This is a death of me and harder than failed people, failed plans, failed hopes, is letting myself die.
It does not matter much what I know. I must lower my expectations as I do not control anything but my surrender. This is what God requires - neither sacrifice nor nobility but, obedience.

Expectations serve us well so long as their fufillment do not become the standard by which life is measured.  Do my expectations ignite unbelief? Or by my expectations is faith grown? Do my expectations come by the Word of God?  
Surrendering my way to His way brings the greater peace.
Perhaps the truest way of perceiving any expectation is to never forget the greatest expectation: the fulfillment of reconciliation between God and man. It is not in people or their words but in Christ and His words, for love wins; it never fails.
There is the reality of despair and yet! dashed expectations is not the accurate fear. God and His Holy Word, better than all the classics and lessons learned, point towards a more excellent way!
And it is enough. It is everything.  God does not fail. He cannot. 

"Since it is so likely that they will meet cruel enemies, let them at least have heard of brave knights and heroic courage." CS LEWIS on children

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