Drat those expectations....

One of the biggest, weightiest words I know of is the word expectation. It means something different to every individual. My expectations are not your expectations. The trouble with that word is another really hefty word called REALITY. Joyful is the occasion when your expectation and your reality are one and the same.
I came to Jamaica with huge expectations. Maybe the worst thing for me was that I thought my expectations were based on my realities. For starters, I grew up in the Caribbean. I was a glad participant in it's culture for the first thirteen years of my life. I really thought I had a grasp on what it was like to live in the Caribbean.When you are an MK growing up on a tropical island, every day is an adventure. Second, I had been to Jamaica many times on short term missions ventures, years ago, and really thought that the Jamaica I remembered from the late '80's was still the Jamaica of 2009. The Jamaicans were oh so gracious to us when we here back in those days. The children were eager to hear the Word of God, and you could roam the streets after dark with nary a worry. Third, I knew that I would be living in another country, separated from my kids and grandkids, but after all, it really isn't that far away. I could be home in three hours by airplane. It didn't take very long for my realities to slap my expectations right up side the head. I very quickly learned that some Jamaicans truly love you, another segment is completely indifferent to you, and the rest of them flat out hate you and what you stand for. I can't stand in the Red Cross line barefoot with my sister anymore waiting for bags of dried milk to devour. Nor can I play my life away at the beach. You see, the things my parents did while I was busy being a carefree little girl, I am now doing. It ain't always fun. Just driving to the grocery store here can be an adventure. I have sort of decided I probably shouldn't drive anywhere that I can't safely walk back home from. Between mechanical issues and vehicle theft.....I maybe using those two feet of mine to hoof it back home. And about those kids we used to come minister to back in the '80's. They've all grown up now and somewhere along the way they lost their ability to teach their own children respect and good polite behavior. (sounds alot like the USA, huh?) Now it takes a group of us just to keep the peace long enough to teach a Bible story all the way through without a major interruption. So very sad. And lest I be so hard on the kids, they learn from example. When the parents blatantly disregard traffic laws and disrespect authority, haven't we then set our children up for disaster? Just sayin'. And about the distance thing. The reality is that there is no substitute for the peace of mind of knowing I could just get in the car and drive to where my kids are a few miles away. None of them are really all that close and I miss them more and more each day. The heart just aches sometimes.
So what do I do with all these unreal expectations? For me it has involved a daily laying of them at the Lord's feet. There are days I really feel His peace and others that I spend all day searching for it. The older I get the more I need His peace. What about these stark realities? I just keep reminding myself that it was a real mom who bore a real Jesus who died on a real tree and died a real death. He even KNEW his reality ahead of time and asked if it would be possible to pass on it and do it some other way. I think I ask that question quite often frankly. So....Drat those expectations and a big bah humbug to realities.
These are the most sincere and honest ramblings of a very tired Jamerican.....SELAH.