Trust

EXPECTATIONS

/ jessicaivaska / 7 Comments

I don’t know about you, but I’ve been told several times in my life to lower my expectations. 

I didn’t have a boyfriend until I was out of college, so everyone told me my expectations were too high. 

When I said I hoped my literature major would allow me to write for a living, people shook their heads and said, “You’ll end up a teacher.” 

The message was clear: don’t expect too much — or too many good things — otherwise you’ll be disappointed. I totally get it. People close to me have seen my tender heart and wanted to protect it. They’ve wanted to spare me from pain. 

In response, I’ve tried to tamper my expectations for years. But if I’m honest, it hasn’t served me very well. Instead of fully embracing the delight of a long-planned gathering with friends, I tell myself not to expect it to be too good or I’ll be disappointed. When I go to a new doctor, I tell myself if I plan for the worst — another “Well that is weird” statement when I list my symptoms — then I won’t be disappointed when someone fails to give me a solid diagnosis yet again. 

But the self-talk and emotional preparations rarely do what I hope they will. Because we can’t really protect ourselves from disappointment. 

It just happens. 

It’s part of life. 

But today, as I was reading a section of God’s Joyful Surprise, by Sue Monk Kidd, I realized that I’ve been thinking of expectations all wrong. Maybe you have, too.

In the book, Kidd talks about expecting to hear God’s voice. Expecting to see His love. Expecting to see Him work in our lives. Every single day. 

If God is who He says He is — and the Bible offers a myriad of evidence that He indeed is  — I don’t think we need to lower our expectations. I think we need to expand them. 

We need to expect God to show us His love. 

We need to expect Him to work good out of even the hardest situation. 

We need to expect miracles. 

We need to expect Him to direct our paths through the nudging of the Spirit. 

We need to expect to see Him, and then, I think we will…more than we could ever expect. 

WHAT WOULD IT TAKE?

/ jessicaivaska / 2 Comments

My husband, Erik, and I like to walk together. We don’t go every day, but  more often than not we lace up our shoes and find some ground to cover. 

Sometimes we’ll drive for a “destination” walk. We’ll go to the waterfront in one of the nearby towns or pick a park to hike in. Most days, though, we walk in our neighborhood. It’s a rural area so there are no city sidewalks, and our three-mile route even takes us down a few woodsy trails. If we time it to avoid drop-off and pick-up at the nearby elementary school, we usually don’t see too much traffic. 

However, there is one main road we have to cross. Erik had my hand as we came to the road. As is often the case, I was lazily looking at the plants around, starting at trees and keeping an eye out for bunnies and squirrels.  A car whizzed by us and then Erik gently tugged me out into the street. 

I didn’t even flinch. 

Didn’t stop to look both ways myself.

I simply trusted him. 

The more I thought about it, the more I realized how much I trust him. I know he loves me. I know he won’t lead me into danger. In fact, he points out dog poop just to make sure I don’t step in it. He is always keeping an eye out for me, protecting me. 

I’m so used to it that letting him guide me has become natural. So natural that in situations like crossing a street, I don’t second guess him. But today, as we kept walking our route, I heard God whisper a question straight to my soul.

Can you guess what it was?

“What would it take for you to trust me like that?”

Ouch. 

I’ve had a relationship with God longer than I’ve known Erik and yet I often second-guess His leading. 

“Really, Lord?”

“Are you sure?”

“What if it’s dangerous?”

“What if it’s too hard?”

“What if I get hurt – physically or emotionally?”

I could write a book full of excuses, but when it comes down to it, the truth is, I struggle to trust God’s guidance. 

Maybe it’s because I let fear and anxiety control too much of my life. 

Maybe it’s because I don’t spend enough time in His Word. 

Maybe it’s because I can’t see God or hold His hand like I can Erik’s. 

Maybe it’s all those things – and more.

I’m not sure the “why” actually matters as much as the question itself. 

What would it take for me to trust God implicitly? 

What would it take for you to? 

WHAT DOES TRUST LOOK LIKE?

/ jessicaivaska / 6 Comments

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I’m sure you’ve reached that moment in your life. If you haven’t yet, you will. Probably many times. Sorry, but it’s the truth.

It’s the moment when you have to trust. When the ground feels shaky, you feel like you swallowed a boulder and your head is spinning.

That’s the place I’m at today. I’ve been here for a while. If we’re honest, we are here everyday, but the pace of our society and technology lets us keep it at bay. When we keep busy enough we don’t have time to peer into the unknown or look at the roadmap only to see there’s no path marked, just thousands of routes with no direction on which turn to take.

But today, today is quiet. Today I can’t hide behind a “To Do” list or a mountain of work, because God has cleared my plate. Some of you may be thinking, “I’d give anything for a day like that.” Let me tell you, it’s harder than it sounds.

How do you stare a day in the face knowing that nothing you do will really matter? How do you look at an empty calendar and feel purpose? How do you encourage the man who you love that God has a plan when you don’t see it? How do you trust when looking back you see a lot of dead ends?

The only answer I can come up with today is this:

Trust is a conversation.

Trust is being willing to be open, vulnerable and honest. Trust is crying with Job and saying to God, “I don’t like what you are doing, but I will not deny you.”

You can’t be real with someone if you don’t trust them. You can’t pour out your heart—and your hurts—if you don’t believe in them. You can’t be vulnerable if you don’t feel safe.

So today I’m choosing to claim my conversations with God, dark as they may be, as a victory because they remind me that I trust Him.