Expectation vs Anticipation A Mama’s lament at Christmas

Christmas season is upon us.  So much comes in waves with the holidays.  Schedules become fuller, with school events, dance recitals, musical celebrations, parties to attend, and family gatherings.  The list of activities, especially with young children, can be overwhelming to say the least. Planning and preparations need to be attended to.

As I write I am experiencing these waves.  With an empty nest, the list is not nearly as long. For me, this year, the waves are lament of things past, and traditions lost.

As I slow down and sit with the myriad of emotions that accompany my Christmas preparation, I’m curious.  I’m noticing the sense of expectations, more from the past as a young mother, than in the present.  Where did the expectations come from? Some spoken, some unspoken. Some my own internal voice measuring my planning and preparation.  Where did my measuring stick come from?

My mother was so good at creating magic at Christmas.  I didn’t grow up in a Christian home, so everything was about Santa Claus.  Decorating, baking, sewing. I watched her work tirelessly. The anticipation of Christmas morning grew daily as preparations continued.  I was with my mother.  I watched her, but I wasn’t connected to her.  I was with my siblings, we were all doing things together, but for me there was a disconnect of sorts. The disconnect was there all the time, but I recognize now it felt better at Christmas because we were together focused on the coming of Santa Claus on Christmas eve.  My mother’s preoccupation with preparation brought excitement, knowing Christmas morning brought such delight.

We were the only grandchildren for both my mother and my father’s parents.  This meant family gatherings were in our home as my parents chose not to make us travel for Christmas.  Something for which I am so very grateful.  My maternal grandmother was a very critical woman, worst of all to my mother.  It seemed no matter how beautiful things seemed to me, when my grandparents arrived Christmas afternoon, the tension in our home grew exponentially.  The unspoken expectation my mother carried, attempting to please her mother, became wired in my nervous system.  As I grew older, I enjoyed helping my mother with the decorating. It was a way I could be with her, and she genuinely seemed to appreciate my help.  Having things just so became my internal expectation of Christmas, eventually driving my preparations for the Christmas celebrations I created for my children.

There was never a Christmas my parents were with my family, in our home, for lots of reasons, mostly a winter mountain pass that divides us and my own conviction not to travel with my children on Christmas. I had no one looking over my shoulder, judging my performance, reminding me of the generational expectations.  Yet, I’m recognizing they were still there.

Expectations everyone was going to be happy and love their gifts.  Expectations the meal would be perfect, and everyone would enjoy it.  Expectations my home would look perfect for the people we loved and invited into our family Christmas.  I was constantly measuring my performance.  I was missing the best of Christmas.  I was missing Jesus, though I was intentional in time spent with Him and bringing Him into our celebration.  Expectations bring fear of shame; shame in not measuring up.  My greatest fear realized, I’m a bad mom, I’m disappointing my children. The shame paralyzes me.  I will never live up to the expectations because of the implicit memories wired in me; my mother never measured up in her mother’s eyes. The procedural memories continued, igniting striving with no satisfaction or signal to cease. In a state of fear and shame, I’m unable to connect with my Jesus, which means His love is not flowing in and through me to those I love the most.

Two of my three children now have growing families of their own.  We are spread among three different states now.  It has been several years since we were all able to be together for Christmas in our home.  I suspect this may be our new normal.  There’s a lamenting as I grieve the season of creating Christmas magic for my children is now over.  They are now making their own Christmas traditions.  There is sadness in the realization that generational expectations were the strongest force in the memories I created for my children rather than the anticipation of time together, seeing one another, hearing one another, truly knowing one another in the safety of simply being together.

As a result of my study of 1 John, nestling in with Jesus, this year I’m more able to abide in Him, noticing Him abiding in me. I’ve intentionally created a space of warmth and coziness that communicates to those who enter, I’ve prepared a place for you to be with me.  Mostly now, that’s for my husband as we enjoy our cozy Christmas home together.  Family and friends will join us for times, but this is our dwelling place now.  The place we abide. The place we invite Jesus to abide every day of the year.  Though I am not completely free of the internal voices of expectations, they are momentary visitors now, and I delight in anticipation of what Jesus will be bringing to these occasions of connections in our home. Connections in which we can see one another as we truly are, hear one another, holding space for one another to simply be.  I long for this to be a space of safety and acceptance, not that comes from me in my humanness, but that which comes from the Holy Spirit of Jesus abiding in me, and me in Him. Oh, how my heart aches that this is not what I was able to give my children when they were small.  Yet I experience His redemption providing this for them as opportunities allow us to be together now, pouring into my grandchildren the things I didn’t have to pour into my children.

I share my story with you, inviting you to join me in being curious about what waves you may be experiencing as you prepare for your Christmas celebrations.  I pray you will notice where voices of expectations and measurements may be paralyzing you in shame. I invite you to slow down and notice the abiding of Jesus in you, and you in Him, that the anticipation of the perfect love only He brings into our worlds can be experienced in your relationships this Christmas.  I invite you to slow down and see the faces of your loved ones, hear the words they share, create space to be curious about their internal experience, anticipating beauty Jesus is longing to bring. For those of you with little ones in your homes, please cherish these moments, as wild and crazy as they may be.  I know right now it may be hard to imagine that while the days are so very long, the years are so very short.

1 John 3:19-20 By this we shall know that we are of the truth and reassure our heart before him; for whenever our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart, and he knows everything.

1 John 4:11-12  Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us.