A Liturgy for Unmet Expectations by Liturgies for a Life Abroad

When Adi’s green card was approved in September this year, we were so excited to finally get to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas in the US. After years of making do in India, I finally allowed myself to dream of all the wonder-filled and nostalgic traditions that are hard or impossible to recreate without family, snow, specific food ingredients, and the overall collective festive feeling. Not only was I excited to introduce this side of my culture to Adi, but I was excited to experience it again myself as I’ve only been home for Christmas once in the last 9 years.

Unfortunately, my mother-in-law (Mummy ji) got sick in October and was hospitalized for almost a month. Because of this, we canceled our plans to move to the US in November and instead moved to Adi’s childhood home in a city 3+ hours away from Jaipur (the city I’ve lived in for the last 10 years). The transition hasn’t been easy. This city is much more traditional and not so foreigner friendly making Adi uncomfortable to allow me to go anywhere alone. So I’m housebound for the most part and only leave to tag along with my sister-in-law to the vegetable market or with Adi on a drive or to the nearby bird sanctuary. I could say so much more about the living situation, and I may do that in another journal entry, but that’s not really the point of this one.

When the decision was made to postpone our move to the US, I was crushed. Our dreams of life in the US were finally in front of us after a long period of darkness and confusion. With Adi’s green card process taking 16+ months, and knowing that neither of us felt at peace about trying again to expand our family after 3 losses until we got to the US, it felt as if all of 2024 has been a painful waiting game that was finally going to be over. But instead, more pain and waiting is punctuating the end of the year and beginning the next.

I wish I could say I’ve accepted all of this with grace and strength, and in some ways I’ve surprised myself with that response, but not with everything. Thanksgiving Day was especially hard. This would have been the first time in 10 years I was going to celebrate Thanksgiving not as an expat. While celebrating as an expat does have its perks, I was genuinely so excited to not have to rework a recipe to fit the ingredients available in India, or reuse the same sad decorations I’ve used for 10 years, or spend another year away from family… you get the point. I was so excited about Thanksgiving this year. (I even had a vintage Thanksgiving sweater I found at the thrift store when I went to the US in September!)

I had every intention of posting daily words of gratitude, but I dropped the idea when life took a turn and I just didn’t have it in me to muster up the energy to find the good, which is there even in the hard. I’ve caught glimpses, but to intentionally seek it out daily didn’t sound like something I could do in the thick of changed plans, disappointment, unmet expectations, sadness, and a looming grief of losing Mummy ji. Thanksgiving was the first of the significant unmet expectations in this season and the day passed by feeling very much like any other day caring for Mummy ji. I ended the day in tears.

The next day as I was scrolling Instagram, I happened upon a liturgy from the pen of Liturgies for a Life Abroad that spoke to me. It spoke to me so deeply (especially paragraph 5) that I want to repost it here to remember and come back to as I’m sure there will be many more unmet expectations in the future (I’m looking at you, Christmas!). And maybe you need it in this season (or a future one), too.

A Liturgy for Unmet Expectations by Liturgies for a Life Abroad

This isn’t how I thought things would be,
Lord.
My dream looked different—
less difficulty,
less loss,
more ease,
more success.
Instead, I find my expectations
slipping through my fingers
like sand,
the winds of reality sweeping them away
and leaving me wondering—
did I miss you?
Do you see me?

I know I’ve prayed—
not my will,
but Yours be done—
so I shouldn’t be surprised when
what I wanted isn’t exactly what
comes to pass.
I guess I thought Your will
might look a little more like mine.
Forgive me, God,
for struggling to believe that
Your way truly is the best
when right now it feels so much
harder.

In these unmet expectations,
You’re showing me places in my heart
that need to be surrendered
to You.
You’re uncovering hidden beliefs
and unspoken desires.
Help me, Holy Spirit,
to concede to Your work in me
and surrender those things
that I’ve held on to,
so I might hold tighter to Your truth.

I confess that I often see
only one way for Your goodness to
be displayed in my life,
but You are a living Father who
knows the end from the beginning,
and whose goodness is not limited to
my perception,
and although I can’t always
see or understand what You are doing,
I can trust that You are working
all things—
even these things—
together for my good and
Your glory.

As I grieve the loss of
what I thought my life would look like,
be merciful to me and
meet me here in my sorrow.
These expectations I’ve held
leave a tender space beneath them
as I give them to You.
Let this wounding be an opportunity
for Your healing hand to
work in me,
and make the pace of my pain
a place of Your presence.

This isn’t how I thought things would be,
Lord,
but who can truly understand
Your ways?
They are higher,
greater,
better than anything I can comprehend.
When I think I need,
what I think I need,
in Your kindness show me that
all I truly need is in You,
and these unmet expectations are
just a shadow of
the goodness I will find in
Your enduring plan for me.

- Elizabeth

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