Letting Go of My Expectations, But Not of God
A pastor friend prayed for me a few weeks ago, reminding me of what Jacob said when he wrestled with God: “I’m not letting go until you bless me.”
I’ve cradled those words, sensing their meaningfulness but wondering if God would apply them more.
He did.
[perfectpullquote align="full" bordertop="false" cite="" link="" color="" class="" size=""]I’m not letting go of God while I do let go of something else.[/perfectpullquote]
I’m letting go of some of the expectations I’ve had of myself as an employee and a mother.
At a different season of life, I’ve been here before.
As a Ph.D. candidate working on my dissertation, I married my husband while teaching full-time in the academy. Before marriage, I had graded assignments most evenings of the week, but I found myself hard-pressed to do so as a married woman. I also knew my biological clock was ticking if we wanted to have children.
Within a few months of the wedding, it felt as if my skin split at the seams and my insides crawled underneath my desk to hide. My expectations of myself overreached what I was capable of as a wife, student, and employee. Anxiety snaked around me and swallowed me whole.
I took medicine for panic attacks, retreating to my car for twenty-minute breaks during the day so that I could breathe easily. Crowds became suffocating, and I dreaded church.
The behavior with the most symbolic weight occurred when the work day was done. After I turned off the ignition of my car, I sat for twenty minutes, staring blankly at the garage door before I dragged myself into the house. I had just been “on” all day—must I be “on” for my newlywed husband?
He became scared for me.
Healing did happen. I left my job. I got more medicine, more therapy. More time just to be. I started teaching part-time, but I lessened my prep and grading load. I got pregnant. I had babies, and I loved them and the adjunct work, but as my kids got older, I knew I was ready for more.
And here I am.
In it: a job where I encounter students on the edge of adulthood and faculty and staff who are dedicated and passionate. A family with a husband sharing a sensitive heart and two kids whose curiosity keeps me curious.
But I’ve got a job in an industry in disruption, and the disruption won’t be over anytime soon.
I’ve got a kid with a lot of challenges, and we’re with her for the long haul.
It's all more than enough. And again I have more than enough to do.
So, [perfectpullquote align="full" bordertop="false" cite="" link="" color="" class="" size=""]I’m telling God: “I’m not letting go until you bless me. Help me to permit myself to work or parent even when it feels—or is—mediocre."[/perfectpullquote]
He’ll have to cover my work with His grace. And cover our parenting with His grace.
I’ll take peace in moments. I sit inside my car for a minute, and I admire the branches of the tree before me. Their leaves shake in the wind like confetti being tossed. I tell God “Thank you. I’m not letting go of you, but I am of so much else.” And then I go into the house.