The Weight of Anticipation

On emotional doomsday-prepping...

I have coined a new phrase in my counseling practice in the last couple of months. As I’ve sat across the screen from a wide variety of clients–male and female, anxious and depressed, history of trauma and not–I’ve found an interesting thread that seems to connect them all.

Each of these precious ones, after they experience a level of emotional pain, have come to live out of a knee-jerk reaction that is a lot like a doomsday prepper–avoid pain at all costs by anticipating and even expecting the worst-case scenario.

Sometimes this takes the form of putting up emotional walls and becoming the silly person in every room they walk into. Sometimes it means bearing the mental weight of every potential scenario, and working themselves up into a frenzy trying to plan and control outcomes they can’t possibly have control over. No matter the specifics, each of these clients has lost the ability to be present in their actual lives because they are spending so much energy trying to avoid what they anticipate may occur.

I was reminded of this in a recent yoga class I was taking. After a particularly challenging sequence (both physically and mentally), we were re-setting in a down-dog position when the instructor said, “What can you let go of right now? Can you let go of anticipation; can you let go of expectation?” With this prompting I realized that I had totally disconnected from the pose I was in–from where my body actually was in space–because I was anticipating the repeat of the difficult sequence on the next side. Mentally, I was running ahead of my body in order to prepare and perform well in what I knew was going to be asked of me.

Admittedly, missing one down-dog in one yoga class may seem a bit trivial, but it made me think about all the other times I miss the present moment because I am anticipating and emotionally preparing for what’s next.

How many “Mommy watch me!” moments have I missed because I’m trying to get myself geared up for the nap-time struggle?

How many moments of quiet space with my spouse have floated out of grasp because I’m anticipating all that needs to be done before my head hits the pillow for bed?

How many worship-filled church-endings have I missed trying to mentally prepare for after-church meals and preparing for the week ahead?

How many friendships do I avoid depth with, not because the person in front of me is untrustworthy, but because I’m nervous vulnerability will lead to the same outcome as the last friendship-fallout?

This particular yoga class was timely because it was my last-ditch effort at bodily integration and regulation before hitting the road for a 5-hour trip to my mom’s house. While away, I would both be attending the Hope Words Writing Conference, as well as spending time with family and even enjoying a small celebration for my daughter’s fourth birthday.

The reminder to let go of anticipation in favor of being exactly where I was helped me to be able to write to you on a Monday morning after a long and chaotic trip with peace in my heart. I both gleaned an immense amount from the likes of Katherine Patterson, Esau McCaulley, and Ann Voskamp AND I made homemade cupcakes with Nutter-Butter horse faces on them and watched my kids ride horses and giggle with delight as they played with their grandparents and great-grandmother.

Of course, part of this was possible because I HAD spent good time planning and anticipating, and letting people know my thoughts and plans as the weekend approached. However, this planning was not in the style of intrusive thoughts interrupting other good things happening in my life–it was scheduled and intentional planning, which has a different emotional effect.

Psalm 119:105 says, “Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light for my path.”

I think sometimes we read this and wish that we had a “lamp” that was really a spotlight–illuminating the path far ahead of where we are. But in actuality, the psalmist’s lamp was a collection of candles, likely just barely illuminating the next step or two.

I can’t help but think about the Israelites, who were tasked with the job of learning to trust the pillar of cloud and fire–rising when it moved, and settling where it stopped.

The emotional doomsday preppers in each one of us would be reeling at such a feat. With our 401k’s, college-savings plans, 5-year plans, and business-plans, we don’t know how to be in the moment. Throw a little difficulty or emotional pain into the mix, and we’re donning our tin-foil hats and waiting for the worst to come upon the world.

Perhaps you’re nursing your own emotional pain by trying to plan, avoid, or control the outcomes in your days. I’d love to invite you today to wonder with me, “What anticipation or expectation can I let go of today?”

To be clear, we’re not surrendering into a deep pit of nothingness, or even proclaiming that we don’t care about the pain we fear, but rather we are entrusting ourselves and our outcomes to the Lord himself. Releasing the need to see miles down the path, and choosing instead to connect to him in the spirit of trust and taking whatever next right step is illuminated before us in love.

I’ll close here with some wise words from the prophet Jeremiah, who was writing to a people on the brink of exile after forsaking the Lord in pursuit of security promised by the surrounding nations. Pleading with the people to turn their hearts back, Jeremiah wrote this:

“But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord,
    whose confidence is in him.
 They will be like a tree planted by the water
    that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes;
    its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
    and never fails to bear fruit.” (Jeremiah 17:7-8)

Let’s teach our bodies to trust in the Lord today, dear reader. Let’s practice being present in each blessed moment we are given. Let’s be honest about that which we fear, and tell ourselves the truth about the pain we are desperately trying to avoid. Let’s lean-in, and let the Lord comfort us right in the exact moment we are in.

Let’s take off the tin-foil hats and embrace the real lives we are living today instead of living in some imagined future that may or may not come to pass.

May it be so. Come, Lord Jesus, come.