{"id":9528,"date":"2019-12-18T00:02:29","date_gmt":"2019-12-18T07:02:29","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blog.mops.org\/?p=9528"},"modified":"2019-12-18T00:02:29","modified_gmt":"2019-12-18T07:02:29","slug":"greater-expectations","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/greater-expectations\/","title":{"rendered":"Great(er) Expectations"},"content":{"rendered":"

It happens every December 25: There\u2019s the inevitable buildup (starting now in SEPTEMBER), the anticipation, the climax – and then, the letdown<\/strong>. I wish I were talking about something else – like a vacation, my birthday, (I\u2019m not talking about sex) or even the sugar cookies I always burn. Because you\u2019d think I should know better. (About the cookies \u2013 parchment paper.)<\/p>\n

But at the end of Christmas Day, every ounce of adrenaline that surged through my veins the past three months has completely dried up – replaced by dirty dishes, shredded wrapping paper, and an empty feeling in the pit of my soul. Once again, I realize that nothing about Christmas has exceeded, or even met, my expectations. Disappointment sets in, so I reach for another burnt cookie.<\/p>\n

After decades of finishing this joyful season with anything but<\/em>, I\u2019ve uncovered the cause of my yuletide breakdowns: sappy Christmas movies<\/b>. Their formulaic plots that go something like this:<\/p>\n

Classic Opening<\/strong>
\nUpbeat Christmas music precedes a (New York) city skyline. The main character is, without exception, attractive, overworked and scarf-clad. He or she has somehow forgotten what Christmas is all about.<\/p>\n

Serene Setting<\/strong>
\nOur protagonist inadvertently collides with a rural setting, complete with small-town charms and fake snow. There is some herculean task that must be accomplished here. Meanwhile, he or she encounters locals who have chosen the tranquil, meaningful life over big city buzz.<\/p>\n

Conflict\/Plot Thickens<\/strong>
\nProtagonist gets reluctantly paired with a charming counterpart, who also wears a scarf. There is simultaneously relationship chemistry and animosity. This counterpart is ALWAYS involved in helping children in the community. Despite their differences, the pair manage to get hot cocoa, fall in love, and complete the impossible task (sometimes involving the children above) in 10-12 minutes.<\/p>\n

Conclusion<\/strong>
\nDespite this unwelcome interruption, true love prevails. All of the deep, previously unmet Christmas dreams are realized, as the token children look directly into the camera and exclaim, \u201cBest Christmas ever!\u201d<\/p>\n

This is Christmas – merrily ever after – with a few incontinence commercials thrown in.<\/p>\n

Upon watching about a hundred of these movies, one thing has become clear: I crave their predictably happy endings.<\/strong> All hopes are realized, all dreams are fulfilled. Shouldn\u2019t it always be that way?<\/p>\n

After all, wasn\u2019t this how it happened that first night? Beautiful angels dazzled the skies, with marveling shepherds and sheep. There was a star, extravagant gifts from the East, and a stable, snug and warm with animals gently looking on. They breathe on the new One to keep Him warm on this Silent Night<\/em>. Joseph huddles around Mary as she holds a glowing child, possibly with a halo. \u201cAll is calm, all is bright.\u201d Unsurpassable beauty is the backdrop to tranquility, warmth, and deep, personal fulfillment.<\/p>\n

Christmas – merrily ever after – even from the start. At least that\u2019s how I\u2019ve always pictured it.<\/p>\n

But as I revisit the Nativity this December, I\u2019m experiencing some cognitive dissonance. Here, I see pain, confusion and a million loose ends:<\/p>\n

I see terrified shepherds in the fields. (Think powerful, mighty messengers of God instead of winged ballerinas with tights.) There are ancient astrologers, tracking a star to royalty. When they finally reach Him, they must dodge the current king in power who seeks to kill his competition.<\/p>\n

I find a weary, expectant mother who\u2019s risked everything to birth her baby. She lays him in a feeding trough, that is not sleep certified for safety. It\u2019s unwritten here, but I suspect (and any mom who\u2019s delivered can confirm) that this night was NOT silent. No halo on record.<\/p>\n

It turns out a King did come that day. But it wasn\u2019t the arrival anyone expected.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Maybe it\u2019s just years of staring at elegant nativity sets and beautifully illustrated books. Or maybe it\u2019s just something inside of me wants my expectations met. I want beautiful predictability, not this story.<\/strong> This story makes me uneasy.\u00a0I\u2019ll take the wrapped with a neat little bow <\/em>movie version instead.<\/p>\n

Why am I so surprised? I\u2019m a card-carrying member of a \u201cmy\u201d society, where I\u2019ve made just about every holiday about \u201cme.\u201d Somewhere, among all of those Christmases past, I\u2019ve managed to turn a celebration of the \u201cdawn of redeeming grace\u201d into, well, my own birthday, because Christmas morning I still wake up wondering, \u201cWhere are my<\/em> presents, my<\/em> celebratory decorations, my<\/em> delicious desserts?\u201d<\/p>\n

And even if my (poor) husband manages to nail it, and gets me exactly what my heart desires, I\u2019m good for about an hour. As it turns out, almost everything about \u201cmy\u201d is temporary. It is, at best, a bottomless pit that I unsuccessfully try to fill. And I can\u2019t. No matter how I try, I fall short.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m learning that \u201cexpectations\u201d are not the problem. It\u2019s when I add the \u201cmy\u201d in front. But what if I inserted \u201cgreat\u201d here, instead?<\/strong> As in \u201cHis greatness,\u201d realizing that this definition defies almost anything my 21st<\/sup> century, me-paradigm can imagine.<\/p>\n

Great exchanged the glories of heaven to become the dust of earth. Great emptied himself, so we could be filled. Great chose death on a cross to give us life. Great failed to meet human expectations, but instead redeemed humanity.<\/p>\n

Embracing this \u201cgreat\u201d means shedding all of my preconceived notions about what great really is. It trusts them instead to the Great One, because in all of his greatness, he exceeded earthly expectations, and chose to come near.<\/p>\n

This is Christmas \u2013 confounded, astoundingly, joyfully ever after.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

\"\"<\/span><\/p>\n

Nichole Woo writes at the confluence of belonging and a life that nudges her to the edges (walkthenarrows.com<\/a>). She’s a member of the Redbud Writers Guild, an editor at the Mudroom<\/a>, and lives in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains where she\u2019s often playing and writing at their edges.<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It happens every December 25: There\u2019s the inevitable buildup (starting now in SEPTEMBER), the anticipation, the climax – and then, the letdown. I wish I were talking about something else – like a vacation, my birthday, (I\u2019m not talking about sex) or even the sugar cookies I always burn. Because you\u2019d think I should know […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":386,"featured_media":9530,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_seopress_titles_title":"","_seopress_titles_desc":"","_seopress_robots_index":"","_seopress_robots_follow":"","_seopress_robots_imageindex":"","_seopress_robots_snippet":"","_seopress_robots_primary_cat":"0","_seopress_robots_breadcrumbs":"","_seopress_robots_freeze_modified_date":"","_seopress_robots_custom_modified_date":"","_seopress_robots_canonical":"","_seopress_social_fb_title":"","_seopress_social_fb_desc":"","_seopress_social_fb_img":"","_seopress_social_fb_img_attachment_id":0,"_seopress_social_fb_img_width":0,"_seopress_social_fb_img_height":0,"_seopress_social_twitter_title":"","_seopress_social_twitter_desc":"","_seopress_social_twitter_img":"","_seopress_social_twitter_img_attachment_id":0,"_seopress_social_twitter_img_width":0,"_seopress_social_twitter_img_height":0,"_seopress_redirections_value":"","_seopress_redirections_enabled":"","_seopress_redirections_enabled_regex":"","_seopress_redirections_logged_status":"","_seopress_redirections_param":"","_seopress_redirections_type":0,"_seopress_analysis_target_kw":"","_seopress_news_disabled":"","_seopress_video_disabled":"","_seopress_video":[],"_seopress_pro_schemas_manual":[],"_seopress_pro_rich_snippets_disable_all":"","_seopress_pro_rich_snippets_disable":[],"_seopress_pro_schemas":[],"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[100],"tags":[2464,2465,24,993,79,1692,56,286,2466,2212,2467,2468],"class_list":["post-9528","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-faith","tag-21st-century","tag-angels","tag-christmas","tag-great","tag-jesus","tag-king","tag-motherhood","tag-movies","tag-my","tag-nativity","tag-silent-night","tag-sugar-cookies"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9528","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/386"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=9528"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9528\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=9528"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=9528"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=9528"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}