By Maria Sermersheim
Meditatione Ignis
On a trip in Maine, my friend Katherine asked me a curious question: “What is the most recent time your expectations have been disappointed?” She specified that she meant my expectations of something outside of my control, not my expectations for myself to accomplish something like writing a good paper.
People often think of expectations as standards that either impose a dull duty upon us or set us up to be disappointed by reality. We speak of “expectations versus reality” so much that it is a meme in popular culture, and it is born from the sense that high expectations — and in a more cynical view, any expectations at all — result in disappointment. The common view is that it is better to have low expectations and possibly to be pleasantly surprised than to have high hopes dashed.
However, Katherine and I agree that people should have high expectations without fear of disappointment. It wasn’t until this trip to Maine, though, that I discovered the best way to articulate our high expectations: Christians should have high expectations in the sense that we expect the mysterious providence of God to be active in every event. We expect (in faith, hope and love) that “God works all things to the good for those who love him” (Rom 8:28). We expect this indefinite goodness, even if we sometimes have trouble identifying it. I realized this in Maine because the friend who hosted us provided the perfect inflection point. My previous expectations of him had been too rigid and narrow, so through understanding him better and adjusting my expectations of him, I could see that our high expectations in the Christian life are an expectation of mystery — and expectations of mystery will never be disappointed.
This friend from Maine and I knew each other mostly through academic quibbles as classmates, and his New England callousness made it difficult for me to follow wholeheartedly in conversation with him. But when he and his family hosted several of us friends, I saw much more of who he is, and I understood much better his particular concerns. Now, rather than expecting coarse, insufferable comments with a funny flair, I expect the witty quips which have many layers of personal investment. It is highly unlikely that the substance or style of his comments have changed, but it is certain that I have adjusted my expectations, not only according to what I have seen, but also according to the reality that people are mysteries, too. Now, thankfully, I have taken one small step toward the vision of God: “Not as man sees does God see, because man sees the appearance, but the Lord looks into the heart” (1 Sam 16:7). By seeing more of his heart by seeing him at home with his family (and by not always talking about school), I have a truer vision and expectation.
I did have an answer to Katherine’s question. My expectations were disappointed for a roadtrip for which I had high hopes of fun and stimulating conversation in the car, but my passengers were disengaged and dozed off. And yet, there was the gift of prayer in those hours of driving, so I couldn’t be entirely disappointed. My expectations for my friend from Maine have been elevated, and the transformation of these expectations have shown me the error of my narrow-mindedness regarding him. I was disappointing myself by not expecting mystery.
In everything and in everyone, let us expect the mysterious providence of God. With this expectation, we will constantly discover God’s goodness anew, and that is no disappointment.