Apr 27, 2019
Releasing Expectations in Love
I brought them home in a cardboard box. I worried they would jump out of the box, or tip over and get scared. I couldn’t wait to set them up in their new home, my guest bathroom. Those five Muscovy ducklings were as precious to me as cut glass.
I gently transferred them to the brooder with the heat lamp to soothe them at night and help them grow. I had high expectations for these little girls and guys. We wouldn’t know who was who until they matured and took on the adult markings of their gender, but I knew I was in love. I checked on them several times an hour, emerging from the bathroom, twirling in circles and singing “I’m in love, I’m in love and I don’t care who knows it!” just like Elf when he realized he had fallen in love with Jovie.
There are many cute things in this world, but ducklings are captivating and they always look like they are smiling. I was entranced by them and began making the plans for the duck paradise I would give them. I secured a doghouse with a door so they would have a safe place to sleep at night, far from the reach of horrible predators like raccoons and fox.
As they grew, I transitioned them from the brooder to the playpen where they played outside on the grass and learned to scrounge for bugs and seeds. At night I rounded them up and safely tucked them into their duck house, gently touching each bum as it passed into the doorway. The only thing softer than a baby’s bottom is a duckling’s bottom, I promise you!
I beamed with delight at how they were growing and developing beautiful feathers, dark brown and iridescent green for the boys and a greyish purple with an iridescent sheen of lavender for the girls. Lavender and Lilac were beautiful and Mickey and his brothers were fine and handsome.
Dashed Expectations
All my duck expectations were coming true until the day they looked over the fence and spied my neighbor’s pond. In one swift lift-off, my dreams were dashed. My ducklings wanted more than I could give them. They flew back and forth for a few days, keeping my hopes alive that they would live here and there and I could still pet their soft bottoms, but one day they stopped flying back over the fence and I could hear their splashing and reveling in the big pond next door.
I watched them swim freely in their new pond while tears pooled in the corners of my eyes and my husband said what should have been evident to a grown woman, “Honey, look how happy they are. Isn’t that what love is? Wanting others to be happy?”
Like a child that I sometimes I am, I sniffled and nodded yes. They were happy and they were where they belonged. It took me some weeks to accept that Lilac and Lavender and their brothers would not return to my farm, but I could still watch them grow and play in the pond and be free to be who they were.
Love Lets Go
But the duckling experiment was only the beginning of something God wanted to transform in me. He was teaching me to let go of expectations. That is what love is all about, is it not? He who became flesh so we could find and understand His love laid down all His expectations at the cross. He offered love freely with no guarantees that it would be accepted.
The Bible says we love him because he first loved us, not because we owe Him our love and not because we are tricked into loving Him. He offers us free will. Some choose to love Him and some choose not to love Him.
A few months later, I had the opportunity to choose to let go of expectations again when my little beagle, Ginger, injured her back. I had been through back injuries with little dogs before and I knew the signs immediately, even though my heart wanted to deny them.
By the time we visited the vet the facts were unmistakable: pain, wobbly walking on her back legs, paw not firmly planted on the ground. Her prognosis was not good and surgery was recommended.
I was frantic and despondent. I cried out in despair to my husband, “I can’t go through this again.” And the same man who told me to let the ducks go because I loved them said, “It’s not about you, it’s about what’s best for Ginger.” Again, love. It’s not about me.
Sobered but still distraught, I went to my bed to pray. “God, I can’t do this again!” I closed my eyes. My thoughts went to the past and dark memories swirled as my stomach clenched with anxiety and fear. This kind of love was too hard. Before I could say another word, I heard His voice, “It’s different this time.”
My panic stopped in its tracks. What? Did that mean God would heal her and we would not face surgery or a terrible ending to her young life? I didn’t know, but in that moment I decided to trust His words. “It’s different this time,” I repeated as I opened my palms to the sky and I prayed that whatever needed to happen for Ginger to happen, in God’s way and in His time.
I released her to God. I prayed that I would accept the outcome even if it wasn’t what I wanted or expected. I decided I would make no bargains with God and that I would not pray to get what I wanted. I opened my hands and my heart and gave her to Him.
Ginger was on strict bed rest with medicine and was only allowed out on a leash to go potty. I watched intently each step and tried to discern if there was even an inkling of improvement in her walk and the strength of her back legs.
The first day or two I was sure I had imagined it, but she seemed more stable. By the third day, it was clear she was improving. The vet had said to look for the tiniest of improvements and that any incremental improvement was good. They had also said her decline was significant and to not expect anything unless we did surgery.
When we returned to the vet, it was clear she was shocked at Ginger’s improvement. She shook her head, smiled, and said to keep doing what we were doing. So I kept letting her go into God’s hands and thanked Him each day that he loves ducks and dogs and my childlike spirit.
We rejoiced as she improved and soon it was as if nothing had ever happened to her. Indeed, it was different this time!
“People bring offerings to Jesus, and then Jesus hands miracles back to the people.” Emily P. Freeman, A Million Little Ways
The Only Guarantee We Have is Love
I’ve been learning a lot about how expectations strangle love and faith, and how letting go frees us to live in the moment and enjoy those we love for exactly who they are in that moment. Letting go makes room — for faith, for love, and for miracles.
Sometimes believers in a good God are the most despondent of all people and that’s not because God lets us down. It’s because we make faith an idol. We make rules around faith and love and we put conditions on things that we have no business messing with. We like our faith to be like Algebra, if this then that. We want formulas and guarantees.
“Life is art. And art demands creativity; it cannot tolerate formulas.” Larry Crabb
God is an artist who weaves faith and love into and around our lives. Only He knows how all the threads need to be woven together. And each of our lives is one of His great masterpieces. Does the art inform the Artist how He should proceed? Does the art tell the Artist what the final piece should look like?
Years ago, when I was a young mom, we offered a young adult a place in our home. We didn’t have the rooms or the beds or experience to mentor a troubled young girl, but we had love. She broke my heart, much like Lilac and Lavender, when she flew away to find her way in the world.
Looking back I see my expectations were too much for her and me. I loved her, I did, but I also expected that love to fix her. But we don’t love so our love will fix others. We don’t love so others can change. We don’t love because we can help them turn their lives around or see a better way. We love because love is God and God is love. And we love without expectations.
We Can’t Love While Holding On
And love is our way to God and love is right. I’ve been lectured quite often in church about what love looks like, how a good Christian woman should love, how a good wife acts if she loves her husband, and how a good mother is supposed to look.
All that striving to be a loving person only resulted in two closed fists, me trying to hold onto all that I had put into loving my people. All that love — it sometimes feels like work, and well, to be honest, I like to see the work of my hands. I like to see the output of my efforts and I want to point to something and say, “Ah, that paid off!”
But love is devoid of expectations and fear. So much of our love is disguised as fear we use to smother others. I worry because I love you, we say. But the good news of God’s love is that we don’t have to worry about those we love. We get to love them and release them. And as we watch them splash in the pond we know we’ve loved well.
What if we dropped the struggle? What if we embraced each day, and the whole of our lives for what it is, instead of what we expect it to be?
How can He show us He is good if we dwell on the pain of the past? How can He show us that we are strong in Him if we collapse in despair remembering the weaknesses of our former days? How can He display His mercies that are new every morning if we grapple with unmet expectations of yesterday?
Can you release the grip of expectations and allow love to flow instead? Can you be fully present in what is because you don’t know what tomorrow will be? Perhaps God is whispering to you, “It’s different this time” because He has something to show you.
Let. It. Go.
His hands are good and they are strong and they are wise. Maybe your whisper today just might be, “It’s different this time” as you open your hands and let go, releasing fear, releasing those you love, and releasing expectations.
This story is published in Koinonia — stories by Christians to encourage, entertain, and empower you in your faith, food, fitness, family and fun.
We are a Smedian Publication. Find out about us and how to write for us.
