Expectations

My three-year-old's eyes glistened as he gazed up at our newly-standing Christmas tree.

And then he said, "Mom, can I help put up the necklaces?"

I really did want to let him help; I really did want to include him -- and I tried, until things got a little too messy, until the tree didn't match up with the picture in my mind. Then I quietly followed behind him undoing most of his doing, as I kept repeating to myself that this was an exercise in letting go. I tried to be stealthy and reassuring as I rearranged the 15 ornaments he put on the same branch and re-draped the beads he had haphazardly strewn across and up and down and sideways.

I did this even though I have a toddling 11 month-old who is also enamored by the tree, and unless I build a wall around it, most days the bottom half of the tree will look...well, a little more true to life.

I did this even though I remember my excitement as a child while I helped my mom decorate our tree, and how I used to feel just a little bit smaller when I watched her move an ornament I had just placed.

I did this even though I know that Christmas, at its core, has nothing to do with me trying to fake perfection.

These are times when I need reminding that the God I serve came to earth not as dignified royalty, but as a baby and was born not in a shimmering castle, but in a dirty cave.

And if the whole point of Christmas is to celebrate the day that Jesus turned the world upside down, my biggest concerns are often, just that -- upside down. I admit to feeling stressed about finding the right gift, the kids behaving at the party, the appetizer turning out, or my Christmas tree looking like something you'd see in a Hallmark movie.

I've always thought of myself as an optimist, but I'm beginning to see that there is a thin line between optimism and unrealistic expectations.

"My mama, valley wise and grief traveled, she always said, 'Expectations kill relationships,' " Ann Voskamp writes in One Thousand Gifts. And isn't this true? I can recognize all the ways that I allow expectations to silently sabotage my moments, my days -- especially during this Christmas season. I expect a gift (even when we promised we'd skip it this year), expect perfect behavior (even though the kids haven't had a consistent nap schedule for the last five days), expect unselfish and thankful behavior (when the world has done a much better job of marketing than I've done of teaching), or expect my home to look like something I saw on Pinterest (still playing that dangerous game of comparison). 

"Without expectations, what can topple the suprising wonder of the moment? Voskamp writes. 

And so, this season, I will seek to celebrate a Savior who crushed expectations -- praying that he will release me from mine, as well. 

Come thou long-expected Jesus, 

Born to set Thy people free; 

From our fears and sins release us, 

Let us find our rest in Thee. 

Israel's strength and consolation, 

Hope of all the earth Thou art; 

Dear Desire of every nation, 

Joy of every longing heart.