Love is a Battlefield

Let’s talk about expectations.

The kind of expectations that we all have about how things should be. Like when you’re a teenager and you just know that you’re going to get your degree, and land your dream job (assuming you know what that is at this point), get married, buy a house and a dog and have 2.7 kids.

So you do just that. You get your education (all the while working full time, so go you!), you land a job with major career potential that you actually like and that pays well, you buy a home (because God is taking his time in the Mr. Right department), and then a few years later your husband walks into your life and *poof*, most of your dreams are complete. There are all other kinds of interests and adventures and endeavors that you two will enjoy together, but kids? Well, no kids…yet.

Being in your 30s and having no kids gives you time to think. Time to plant dreams. Time to grow expectations like a garden.

And then you have kids (birth, foster, adopt…whatever) and you realize that your kids don’t look like the seeds planted in your dreams or the flowers growing in your expectation garden. Your kids, though beautiful and strong, are damaged, malnourished, needing light and protection. And your expectations? They’re crowding them, suffocating them even. So what do you do?

You weed the garden.

You remove the expectations so that your children can grow, thrive.

Our six-year old has been having a heck of a time in the last few weeks. Disobedience, bad behavior, foul language, talking back, fighting, lying, cheating, you-name-it. This has been followed up with discipline, talking, explaining, tears, hugs, promises of I-will-be-good-tomorrow. And then it happens again and we’re at a loss.

Our boy is hurting. He’s angry. He’s frustrated at his circumstances. He’s confused. He does not understand why his young life looks the way it does.

So he lashes out. And then he shuts down.

Just like that.

And the next day begins anew with hope and expectations.

Expectations.

That word. That word is the cause of so much of my sin. That word is rooted in anger and pride. That word demands to know Why can’t you just do things right? Why can’t you just be good? Why are you doing these things? Why, why, why?

And my heart is ugly because I think these things. When I’ve done everything I can do and nothing is changing and I am exhausted,  I cling to my expectations, my righteous indignation, my you’d-better-knock-it-off attitude. I hope my disappointment and my anger will cause change- at least fear of being in trouble that will result in change. But when has disappointment and anger ever caused change that was good?

So I need to kick my habit – my expectation habit. I need to quit cold-turkey. I need to stop being so damn disappointed when my kids do not act the way I think they can, should, better. I need to understand that they are their own people. I need to see that they are wounded and hemorrhaging and that maybe sometimes the only way to get the bleeding to stop is to fight.

I need to confess.

I need to pray.

I need to forgive.

I need to hold, hug, watch, listen.

I need to be Jesus to these boys who don’t quite know Him yet.

I need to hope.