I eagerly pressed the button on the pancake machine at the hotel restaurant. A moment later, someone shattered my dreams of a delicious breakfast with the words, “It’s broken.”
I was in Daytona Beach Shores to help celebrate my Aunt Rita’s 96th birthday. The night before, as I was packing, I’d done a quick inventory of my expectations.
Did I hope to see newly hatched turtles on the beach, as I had two years ago? And a manatee on the shore, which had been another high point?
“No expectations,” I told myself sternly. “This way, you’ll be grateful for anything good that happens — instead of being disappointed because your hopes were dashed.”
Expectations can control our lives if we’re not careful. For example, I was recently scheduled to undergo a root canal which I dreaded with every ounce of my being.
You see, in the past, I’d endured horrific pain during this procedure. The memories flooded my consciousness, sending shivers of terror along my spine.
This time, though, I saw a new doctor, who probably detected my fear upon meeting me.
He gently explained the procedure and then supplied sufficient amounts of nitrous oxide. Before long, I was leaving the office, thinking, “Well, that wasn’t bad at all.”
As for the trip, the one expectation lurking in my mind was—you guessed it— the joys associated with pancake machines.
Oddly enough, I never eat pancakes at home, but there’s something irresistible about hitting a button, waiting a few minutes —and then watching flapjacks flop, hot and fragrant, upon your plate.
When this small dream dissolved, I chided myself for being disappointed.
“Come on, people are starving all over the world and you want instant pancakes?”
Our response to little disappointments may predict how we handle catastrophes.
Let’s say your car door gets dinged. Do you throw yourself into a frenzy of rage, cursing the person responsible or react calmly because, after all, it’s fixable?
People who have meltdowns about small incidents — Johnny spills the milk, while Bowser demolishes a new pair of slippers — often go ballistic when catastrophes hit.
Let’s face it — things will go awry, whether it’s the washing machine dying, a tooth throbbing or a toddler screaming.
For me, it helps to recall Christ’s words: “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”
There may be big problems in our lives — belligerent bosses, rocky relationships — and when we add them to the little ones — scratches on cars and abscesses in teeth —we can get overwhelmed.
Truth be told, I’ve had dramatic meltdowns over minor incidents, like lost house keys and broken appliances, but I’m praying to improve.
Taming our expectations, when it comes to earthly matters, takes effort, but we’ll be happier in the long run.
And over time, we’ll see that the longing for a picture-postcard vacation, a perfect wedding and a flawless friendship will bring disappointment, because this is a fallen world.
Faith directs our eyes to the bigger picture, where, as St. Paul puts it, "This world, in its present form, is passing away."
That includes manatees and baby turtles — which didn't show up on this trip — along with the broken pancake machine.
Still, I'm grateful for something totally unexpected — the moment when my niece, Aubree, 4, suddenly took my hand, as we were heading over for ice-cream cones.
Frankly, that gesture made up for everything.
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