You Get What You Expect

I tried something new this week. I went barefoot jogging. 

Yep. Bare feet, asphalt and gravel, and approximately 3/4 of a mile. It was more than a little nerve wracking.

Why?, you ask?. Because I have gone out doors in bare feet before and I have experienced the excruciating pain of placing my heel down on an invisible piece of gravel. The last time I did so, my heel (which I think is the toughest area on my body) was bruised and sore. I was limping for three days! And that was from landing on a rock at a walk!! So I know not to scoff about bare feet and rocks and I also know that the side of the road (where I was running) is a hot spot for gravel. It all ends up there on the edge of the road and blends innocently into the asphalt. Essentially, its impossible to avoid gravel even if you never take your eyes off your feet.

So, why, you ask, was I running barefoot? I don't totally know. I just got outside that morning and the sun was shining, the birds were playing, and my body wanted to run--without shoes. And for the next 20 minutes I lived in a state of mild fear and anticipation for the moment when my foot would come down hard on gravel, I would pull up short, fall, and sprain an ankle, bruise a knee, or who knows what! If I were a normal human I would avoid any hint of danger and wear shoes. But I'm not normal.

So, instead of wearing shoes, I negotiated. With God (I couldn't do much about the rocks). I told Him that I felt like barefoot running was what I needed to be doing, and if He was the one inspiring me to do that, then He needed to protect me from hurting myself in the process.

Negotiations finished, I did my best to put my fear from my mind and did my very best not to anticipate stepping on rocks with each step. Still my mind was constantly expecting pain with every step. I did have a few wincing moments, but overall, I came away unscathed. But I wish I'd been better about trusting God to protect me. I spent so much time watching my feet that day that I missed a lot of the scenery. And I wonder if, in attempting to view my own path and choose where my feet went, I didn't end up on more rocks rather than less. 

It makes logical sense to think that if we watch where we're going really carefully we'll avoid any pitfalls or gravel beds. To a degree, I think this is true. Obviously I'm not going to walk willingly into a thorn bed with bare feet. However, I'm recognizing the wisdom in the well-loved hymn, Lead Kindly Light-- "I loved to choose and see my path, but now, lead Thou me on" and "Keep Thou my feet, I do not ask to see the distant scene--one step enough for me." I'd asked God to "keep my feet" but rather than letting go and trusting Him to do so, I was watching, analyzing, and second guessing each step. One step was not enough for me because one step was all it would take to make me stumble and fall into injury, frustration, and pain.

That run was a fantastic spring board for new ideas. I spent my hours at work pondering the idea of God "keeping my feet" and of my (in)ability to trust God with my feet. I was a bit frustrated with myself that I couldn't trust Him to guide my feet away from the painful rocks and dangerous routes, not just on barefoot runs but in life. I have this need to control. To see. To understand. To have a plan and a path. I want to clear that path of obstructions, oust the thorns, and repave it before I start running.

I began trying to trust God with my feet. Over the last few days I've focused on keeping my eyes up rather than always on the path ahead. I attempted to place my steps firmly despite my anticipation of rocks and pain. And today, when I went on my walk I hardly looked at my feet at all. I glanced down on occasion to avoid the obviously messy spots, but I chose to trust God to keep my feet and I refused to go back on that trust by choosing my own way.

Instead of expecting to feel a rock in my instep with every stride, I was expecting smooth roads and clear paths. There were definitely still rocks on the road but I either just missed them or, when I stepped on them, I landed on them in ways that did not hurt and were merely inconvenient. 

Expectations are curious things. When I expected rocks under my feet I walked timidly and every footfall seemed filled with pain and fear. When I expected my feet to avoid the rocks and land on solid ground I walked confidently, quickly, and firmly, and the rocks I did encounter were barely noticeable.

I'm becoming a firm believer in the idea that "you get what you expect." Expect rocks and pain and you find them. Expect smooth paths and you have them. Expect the worst from people and they will give it to you (or you'll see only the bad and not the good). Expect the best from a situation and you will find the best, most positive aspects of the most atrocious circumstances. Expect God to protect you and you will see His hand surrounding you. Expect Him to fail you and nothing He does will be enough because at some point you just know He is going to let you down. 

What do you expect out of life? Over the years I have expected to be forgotten and overlooked. I have expected to be embarrassed and uncertain. I have expected to feel inadequate. I have expected that people will be disappointed in me. I have expected to be underpaid and overworked. I have expected to be taken advantage of. I have expected stress, fear, worry, frustration, setbacks. I have expected the worst out of every situation. I suppose I have expected others to treat me like I treat myself.

In recent months I have begun to change my expectations. I have started to expect to be remembered and recognized. I have expected confidence and laughter. I have expected to know enough. I have expected others to be proud of my success. I've started expecting the best, because why not? What harm is there in expecting the best? For some reason I think we have this idea that improving our expectations will increase our disappointment when those expectations aren't met. Which means we stop expecting good things and start expecting the worst to happen. That way we don't feel let down. 

If life and God worked like that we would expect the worst and still get goodness but manage to avoid the sadness and frustration. 

Faith doesn't work that way. No, that is not faith. 

Faith is imagining the unimaginable and expecting it to happen. Faith is hope for the amazing in hopeless situations. (Note: This is not the same as 'hoping for the best and seeing what happens' which is essentially lip-servicing hope while still expecting the worst). Faith is all out, fully invested, no doubts, no regrets expectation for uncountable blessings, untold opportunities, and unimaginable possibilities. 

Sound far-fetched? Good. Faith is far-fetched. 

I recommend starting with some simple things. Ask yourself--What do you expect out of life? Out of a given situation? Out of a relationship? Out of your work? Out of yourself?

I had a habit of expecting people to look through me and past me. To overuse and neglect me. I started trying to change that.

The result? People know my name. My interactions with people aren't limited to a few embarrassing interactions. People ask for my opinion and value what I have to say. They celebrate with me. They treat me like I want to treat myself. All because I started expecting the best. 

Having succeeded in that, I'm now working on expecting a fantastic pay raise. My goal is to be worth what I make, but make what I'm worth. I am full of faith that it's going to happen.

I understand if you're skeptical. I would be. Here I am touting yet another "affirmation" to fix everything in your life. "Just think it and you can do it," right? 

Ha. No. 

Negotiate it. Talk it out with God. Get Him on your side. Get Him guiding and keeping your feet. Get Him on board with your expectations. Start expecting Him to be there with you--for you. Expect Him to answer when you ask, and then ask and act as if you expect Him to answer. Walk with confidence. The rocks don't matter.

Expect the best. Live your best. Be the best. You will get the best.