There were three small woofs at roughly 3 a.m. on the other side of the bedroom door. Honestly, they were so small that the rhythm of Greg's breathing remained entirely steady, sawing on through the early dawn hours. Then I heard the clicking of Kanti's nails across the hardwood floor as she roamed the living room wondering when someone was going to get up and play with her again. I could hear the coyotes howling. Beside me, Greg kept sleeping blissfully unaware that Kanti was gaining restless momentum while I was losing the ability to slide back into a peaceful sleep. She kept pacing and occasionally she let out another small bark just to let us know she had an expectation.
Kanti is usually pretty adept at letting us know about her expectations, but every now and then her expectations and ours don't jive. She was sleeping indoors because the coyote activity last night was so intense that she joined in with non-stop barking. In an attempt to have a peaceful sleep, we brought her in the house hoping that the coyote singing wouldn't set her off. It worked until 3 a.m. when she decided she had had enough of being self-controlled and that those coyotes really needed to be barked at and/or run off the property. After about an hour of laying in bed listening to Greg's snoring and Kanti's pacing, I had expectations. Very simply, he was going to wake up, get up, and deal with that dog. Not a word was said, in fact those expectations were completely my own, zinging back and forth in my brain. Miraculously after about an hour of giving off expectation energy, Greg suddenly woke up, sat up, and got up.
I heard the door open and close. The spoon banging on the side of the dog bowl as Kanti's breakfast was dispensed. Then there was blissful silence. Without being able to see, I knew that Kanti had been let outside to satisfy whatever need she had to chase the coyotes. She had been fed. And now Greg was stretched out on the couch with Kanti lying on the floor right beside him. They were both happy and so was I. It was quiet. The woofing and clicking had ceased. Everyone's expectations had been met and life was good.
Sleep came and went. My first thought on waking was a jumble of a Dickens' book title, a bible verse, and the blog. Great Expectations. "I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you (Jeremiah 29:11 NIV). Expectations have been top of mind lately. My expectation list has been filled with people in my circle buying, selling, and moving homes. There has been children being born and learning to talk and walk. Work has taken unexpected twists and turns. The planning for future trips has been unfolding with reservations being made. Nearly every part of life, maybe all of it has accompanying expectations.
Some of our expectations turn out fabulously. Others leave us wondering what happened. There are times when our expectations run over us and we end up feeling like road kill. That's a saying Albertans apply to animals that get run over on the roadways. Like the poor porcupine who tried to cross the road, expecting to make it and only got part way, you got splatted all over the place because what you expected and what really happened didn't match. Then what?
If you and your expectations have been splatted, you have a choice. You can seek out promises like Jeremiah 29:11 and re-frame your story into a Joshua-story, or you can choose to be road kill and just lay there in the roadway of life - a bunch of scattered porcupine parts. I would recommend being like Kanti and Joshua. Don't give up on your great expectations. Be persistent, put your expectations into a frequent and steady stream of petitions or prayers. Woof and pace in your meditative space! Trust that even if your expectations get splatted, there will be new expectations. Be willing to scrape up the parts that are lying all over the place, smoosh yourself back together, and discover what kind of wonderful expectations are in store for you.
Kanti is usually pretty adept at letting us know about her expectations, but every now and then her expectations and ours don't jive. She was sleeping indoors because the coyote activity last night was so intense that she joined in with non-stop barking. In an attempt to have a peaceful sleep, we brought her in the house hoping that the coyote singing wouldn't set her off. It worked until 3 a.m. when she decided she had had enough of being self-controlled and that those coyotes really needed to be barked at and/or run off the property. After about an hour of laying in bed listening to Greg's snoring and Kanti's pacing, I had expectations. Very simply, he was going to wake up, get up, and deal with that dog. Not a word was said, in fact those expectations were completely my own, zinging back and forth in my brain. Miraculously after about an hour of giving off expectation energy, Greg suddenly woke up, sat up, and got up.
I heard the door open and close. The spoon banging on the side of the dog bowl as Kanti's breakfast was dispensed. Then there was blissful silence. Without being able to see, I knew that Kanti had been let outside to satisfy whatever need she had to chase the coyotes. She had been fed. And now Greg was stretched out on the couch with Kanti lying on the floor right beside him. They were both happy and so was I. It was quiet. The woofing and clicking had ceased. Everyone's expectations had been met and life was good.
 |
| Expecting Visitors |
Some of our expectations turn out fabulously. Others leave us wondering what happened. There are times when our expectations run over us and we end up feeling like road kill. That's a saying Albertans apply to animals that get run over on the roadways. Like the poor porcupine who tried to cross the road, expecting to make it and only got part way, you got splatted all over the place because what you expected and what really happened didn't match. Then what?
If you and your expectations have been splatted, you have a choice. You can seek out promises like Jeremiah 29:11 and re-frame your story into a Joshua-story, or you can choose to be road kill and just lay there in the roadway of life - a bunch of scattered porcupine parts. I would recommend being like Kanti and Joshua. Don't give up on your great expectations. Be persistent, put your expectations into a frequent and steady stream of petitions or prayers. Woof and pace in your meditative space! Trust that even if your expectations get splatted, there will be new expectations. Be willing to scrape up the parts that are lying all over the place, smoosh yourself back together, and discover what kind of wonderful expectations are in store for you.
Comments
Post a Comment