Expectation
ex .pec . ta . tion/ noun/ assumption, presumption, conjecture, prediction, a belief that someone should or will achieve something
The early-morning flash of light brightens my bedroom, and even though my eyes are closed, I can tell that it is lightning, which, for me, is an unwelcome sight. I have no qualms about thunder, however, so I lie still and wait for the expected crash of thunder to follow, but there is nothing. More lightning. Now comes a puny sound of thunder. The lightning continues to flash intermittently, but the thunder doesn’t have a strong presence until quite some time after. It’s taking its time meeting my expectation.
An amusing sidelight on this week’s word expectation is the way it was used a few generations ago when sensibility prevailed in the Victorian era. To avoid using the word pregnant, with its possible sexual overtones, people would say that a woman was “expecting.” We may smile and say, “How quaint!” But we can look back and see that it was a beautiful figure of speech. A woman was carrying hope.
The interplay of lightning and thunder metaphorically points to the relationship we have with life’s experiences. If we have a belief that we ourselves or someone else should achieve something and we look for it to happen, we are putting our expectation to work. Some individuals are fearful that they won’t get what they hope for and so choose not to expect anything, but this is self-delusion. When we fail to permit ourselves to have expectations, we rob ourselves of one of the sources of joy in life.
As I write, this is the Tuesday morning following the first Monday in November–always a day of expectations, and, as is expected, people are going to their polling places; the mid-term elections are about to be held. I think about the symbolism of the flash of light followed by very little thunder–a flash of light “signifying nothing,” a cynical person might say. For months there has been a great amount of talk, flashy rhetoric, and strident advertisement–all couched in many promises. Millions will go into the voting booths today with great expectations based on these promises. Will the thunder come when it should to validate what they are eagerly anticipating? We vote in hope and oftentimes have to wait to see promised action.
This matter of expectations is not limited to elections, of course; it is a part of life. It’s a part of our individual lives, our lives as families, as friends, as employees, and as employers. We all have expectations, and we should, but we shouldn’t hold anyone hostage to our own expectations. When the thunder is late in coming for others, as well as for ourselves, we must be patient and wait for it. I have seen impatient expectations at work, particularly in the field of education in which I have been involved for a long time. For instance, a new superintendent of schools is installed with much fanfare and glowing promises. Then come the months–and maybe a year or two– of waiting for fulfilled expectations: for increased levels of student performance on achievement tests, for the numbers going to college to increase, and for the dropout rate to decrease, but nothing significant happens, at least not enough to satisfy the hopes that accompanied the firing of the old superintendent and the hiring of the new one. Before long, there is a new superintendent and new expectations.
Expectations are about hope and are vital to the human psyche. A life with expectations is part of the abundant life we have been promised. The fact that nothing dramatic happens after the flashy first-light shouldn’t deter us from going forward with optimism. Rick Warren, in The Purpose Driven Life, writes, “Regardless of your age, the rest of your life can be the best of your life, and you can live on purpose.” Yes, we can live with expectation. Life’s changes often come in imperceptible ways. For ourselves, we may have started a new project or changed to a new job. We had great plans designed to yield satisfying accomplishments, but after a while we find that the situation is not what we had hoped for. There is no dramatic, visible evidence that our plans are coming to fruition. But although we may not have met our expectations in the short term, if we are patient and perceptive, we will see growth taking place. Now we must step back and analyze the situation to see whether our expectations were realistic to begin with. If they weren’t, then we may have to adjust and make more realistic ones.
Writers are among those who know first-hand about expectations and their consequences. They know that their books come with expectations–from the cover design to the first few words of the first chapter. Readers approach each book with expectations. A touted bestseller or a “great read” is expected to deliver, and the writer of a first-rate book is expected to do it again; otherwise, the readers may gravitate to another writer. But both writer and reader should be patient. Sometimes the thunder is delayed.
Whatever our circumstance, we can expect with confidence because expectation is a biblical teaching. Jeremiah assures us that God will give us “an expected end” (Jeremiah 29:11). This is powerful encouragement that our expectations will come to pass. Even when there is no immediate roar after the predictive flash of lightning, we shouldn’t abandon hope. If we are patient and wait a while, we’ll hear the thunder.
Blessings,
Judith
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“To wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect.” Jane Austen, from Sense and Sensibility