Expecting something is what motivates one to action. Waiting for a flight in expectation of getting to a desired destination. Eating in expectation to be satisfied in our palettes, or just to curb hunger pangs. Exercising, in expectation of losing a couple of pounds, transforming some fats into muscles.
Interesting to notice that recently I have become increasingly aggressive when expectations are not met. Perhaps it is PMS, perhaps it is tiredness. However, deep inside I think it stems from trying to protect myself. Yeap… it seems to be another layer He’s wanting to peel again.
This urge to stand up for my rights, this ferocity that rises within me that promises myself that I will not allow myself to be hurt like this. Never again.
I wonder, if it is wiser & stronger instincts to draw stricter boundaries. Or it is a defence mechanism to wall myself in, so that I can be safe… and sane. And most definitely, in control.
However, with the fortress-ing comes a possible ignoring the real healing of the wound. The scab will probably grow over the cut, but perhaps I will still hurt whenever my mind drifts to the saga.
I am waiting for my flight home. Missed my original flight cos spent too much time @ dinner with a friend.Lol… 1st time ever really! In waiting, there is an anticipation of what is to come: piping hot aromatic coffee that rises to awaken my senses, my bed waiting to embrace me for couple of hours before I zoom off again.
I am no stranger to waiting & I know this pocket of time is great for catching up on a few days’ worth of logging of experiences. In waiting, I have learnt loads really. Spent countless hours dissecting through contradictions, visualising processes, munching on yesterday’s nuggets. Even in waiting, there is an expectation.
It is time, for me to be brave, and relinquish the grip on my heart in abandon – to the totally trustworthy One. In full expectation of His restoration, that my hurt may become healing for another.