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I’ve always had great expectations for my life. When I was in junior high I expected to excel in all my high school classes, including advanced placement classes. In high school, I expected to win awards for my oboe solo. In college, I expected to immediately get my dream job upon graduation and work for the New York Times by age 25.
Guess what? None of those things happened: While I did well in school, math and physical education courses were my downfall. While I tried hard, my oboe performances were only mediocre. I most certainly never got to the New York Times. In fact I was fired from my first real job out of college.
I had many other great expectations for my life but few if any of them came to fruition. Instead of being the high-powered journalist or the cloistered nun I expected to become, I am a wife and mother scrambling to build a freelance writing career in between loads of laundry and trips to the grocery store. This is certainly not the life I expected.
At times, I do get discouraged, especially when I get word about family or class reunions. I feel ashamed that I did not fulfill my great expectations and wonder whether I’ve let others down. I wonder also if others are sniggering that my high-flown dreams came to nothing.
However, during my prayer time recently, I’ve come to realize that my great expectations were not important. Nor is it important what others think. God has great expectations for me and those are the ones that count. I need only to try to discern those expectations and try to fulfill them to the best of my ability.
I’ve learned that very few people actually achieve their “when I grow up” dreams. But that’s okay; instead they’ve found themselves exactly where God intends them to be.
Few of us can become rock stars or a corporate big-wig. But it’s more important that we use the talents that God gives us, even if it’s in ways that we never expect. After all, someone has to be a proctologist, an undertaker or a “desk jockey”. The world needs those people too.
I’ve also come to realize that it’s definitely for the best that my great expectations remained unfulfilled. Had I become the New York Times greatest reporter or entered a convent, I would never have met the wonderful man who became my husband. The world would be short the three children God has sent us. Who knows? One of them might become the reporter or the clergy person God wants. Or God might have something even better in mind for them or for my future grandchildren.
Slowly (very slowly), I’m learning to let go of my great expectations and rely on God’s. He is our loving father and like any good parent, He really does know best. I wonder what He’s got planned for us today. I expect it will be something really great.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
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