Being Expectant in Uncertainty

I began 2020 like many others, expectant. Planned. Like maybe I was in control.

What was I expecting? I expected that my plans would work out, like what I wanted and set out to do would happen. Like the places I wanted to go, I would go. Like I would end this year with all the people I began it with. Like my life wouldn't pause. Like grief wouldn't sweep me off my feet again. Like I'd be swimming, not treading water, or feel like like I'm drowning.

I began this year with expectation.

The expectation that things would work out, go my way and we'd be farther ahead, meet our goals, enjoy life and actually get to be with our people.

This year had other plans and we've been swept into them. Swept up by them, into the current of the unknown. The unexpected became more of an expectation. The unknown because more normal. And I relented. Because honestly, I have no control. Expect over my own attitude and heart. But there have been moments when my emotions even felt out of my control.

It's been a hard year. For many, for me, for my family, for people around us, for this country, for the world.

I guess if anything should unite us it's that. Everyone is facing something, something unexpected and unknown and even more than ever it feel like we are living in-beween.

How are we living in the in between? Are we waiting? Expecting the Lord to pick us up out of the murky, muddy waters and set our feet on dry land? Are we expectant in Him? For Him? For hope and future and things above and beyond this fallible, false-hoped feeble world?

Where are we placing our hope for today? For this moment? For now? Have we even run our plans across the King of our hearts? Do we trust him? Tiffany, he whispers, do you? Do you trust me? With the pain and the suffering and the heartache and the grief? Do you trust me, to set you feet on dry ground? If not now, someday? Someday on the other side?

And he whispers deep into my soul. I win, Tiffany. You win, Tiffany. Because you are my Beloved. And whatever pain and suffering and angst and lament and fear you have here is nothing compared to what I am preparing for you. I am ready for you. I want you. Just wait. A little longer. Let the breath of life fill your lungs, the my perfect love fill your heart, the words of truth fill your mind and trust me. Trust me to love you more than you can comprehend. Trust me to love your kids, to yearn for them, to call them to myself. Trust me with your husband, to heal his heart and sink into his soul, to pour out peace and faith in uncertainty. Trust me. Trust me, because I love you. And I have never and will never leave you. You are my child, Beloved.

It has been a long few months. I have a lot of healing and grieving to do. A lot to unpack. in all ares of my life. And if I don't sit in the quiet, listen to the Lord, read his promises, the noise and fear and uncertainty of this world creep in and take-over. The lies are sneaky, the liar is sly and smooth talking and quick. He tells me my weak and weary body and heart and soul are good for nothing until....until I have arrived? I have it all figured out? I am healed? I'm on the other side? Out of the valley? Out of the deep waters, deep grief, deep sorrow?

Do you feel that too? The lies and fears and uncertainty fighting the truth, the peace and foundation that the Lord has given us?

It's real and it's here and it's exhausting sometimes. But we will persevere. We will be victorious. We will make it to the other side. Because he promised. He is victorious. He wins. And we are his.

So, Beloved children of the King. Stand with me. Weep with me. Pour out your hearts with me. We are not alone. We fall on our knees for each other, with each other. We will stand firm in the foundation of truth, the cross, our King.

I love you. Pray with me. For me. And I will do the same for you.

Tell me your thoughts, your prayers, your suffering and grief. Tell me you victories and answered prayers. How is the Lord showing up for you in the midst of such unexpected uncertainty?