Managing Expectations for a Joy-Filled Christmas
One frigid March day, my husband and I sat in our canoe in the middle of a lake in Missouri. Our lines had been in the water for well over an hour, and we’d had only one bite. The bite belonged to my husband, of course. An avid fisherman, Joe is used to pulling in fish everywhere he drops anchor. No bites for me, though. While I was casting my line and hoping for the best, one thing was obvious: if he wasn’t going to catch anything, neither was I.
Before we paddled back to shore (and our heated cabin), I decided to cast my line one more time. When my lure hit bottom, I ever so slowly began to reel it back to the surface. I felt a tug. My pole bent, and I reeled harder, excitedly shouting that I had one on the line.
My mind raced as I considered what might be on my hook. Just below the surface, something was waiting for me, and I couldn’t wait to see what it was. It was fighting so hard, I was certain my line was going to snap. Finally, afraid I was going to break my rod, I handed it to Joe. Holding my breath, I waited as he landed my biggest catch to date.
It was a rock. I’d caught a seven-pound rock.
Feeling a bit like Charlie Brown on Halloween when he failed to catch the Great Pumpkin, I let out a sigh. In just those few moments, I’d had such high hopes for that catch. I was going to take photos for Instagram and show off to my kids. I was going to send a message to my ex-stepdad, who taught me to fish when I was four. I was going to go back to camp and feed the masses with the giant fish I’d caught.
But I hadn’t caught a fish; I’d caught a rock.
Expectations Versus Reality
Sometimes our expectations don’t match our reality. I struggle with managing my expectations most days, but the holiday season, with its traditions and gift-giving, especially magnifies what I consider to be one of my biggest character flaws.
I love Christmas and all the festivities surrounding it. When we first started celebrating as a family, I had visions of peaceful evenings spent lighting Advent candles, beautifully decorated sugar cookies set out for Santa, and blissful Christmas mornings when everyone was given the perfect gift and was truly thankful for the underwear in their stockings.
Every December I placed these expectations on my entire family. I stressed myself out planning and baking and running errands so that everyone could have the perfect holiday. Then when my family didn’t realize they were supposed to be having the perfect holiday, I would cry in the bathroom, eating my not-so-beautifully-decorated sugar cookies.
At some point, I’d begun to glorify the season more than the reason. I forgot to wait expectantly for the Savior and instead placed unfair expectations on the ones I love. I’m no theologian, but I don’t believe this was the intention of the first Christ Mass.
A few years ago, our family moved. Instead of spending the holidays with our usual crowd, we hunkered down and enjoyed Christmas Day in our pajamas. The food and gifts were simple, and we were happy just being together. I had deliberately baked for only one day and shopped online to avoid the hustle and bustle of the stores. I’d given myself permission to let go of the title Sole Gift Buyer and asked my husband for his expertise. I’d paused comparing my Christmas to others on Facebook. I’d focused on Christ and his birth. I’d talked to my kids about the Savior. Last year, we added Lori Florida’s Dollar Store tradition to our own, and we had a blast.
A Joy-Filled Christmas
Although our Christmas celebration is no longer planned and choreographed to the minute, it is joy-filled. Our Christmas is simple, and Jesus is the focus. Because we manage our expectations, and we wait expectantly for the Savior, we’re simply thankful for the day.
When I think of that first Christmas—the shepherds in their fields, angels dancing above them—my heart leaps with the joy they must have felt at hearing that the long-awaited Greatest Gift had been delivered. Let this be our only expectation, too: that the Messiah, the Savior of the world is here. His Spirit is with us today, and we will be with him forever.
After Jesus ascended to heaven, his brother, James, wrote to his persecuted followers, “So wait patiently, brothers and sisters, until the coming of the Lord. The farmer waits [expectantly] for the precious harvest from the land, being patient about it, until it receives the early and late rains” (James 5:7 AMP). Just as our kids wait for Santa, or I waited for my huge fish to surface, so are we to wait expectantly for Jesus. We can place all our trust in him—and we won’t be disappointed.
In case you’re wondering, I kept the catch of my life. It’s sitting on a shelf in my living room between a family photo and a Mayan Calendar knickknack I bought in Mexico last June. I held on to it to remind myself that sometimes when we hope for something, we end up with rocks. In the catching of those rocks, though, we learn to trust God—and get our best stories.
is a full-time Army wife and mom, and an occasional teacher of first graders. She is an unapologetic follower of Jesus and the University of North Carolina Tar Heels. Becky holds a bachelor’s degree in Elementary Education from UNC, and dreams of writing a book. She blogs at beckyyurisich.com.
Photograph © Dan LeFebvre, used with permission
