The past few days have become a battle of expectations vs reality for me. We’ve just begun week five of John working from home…week four of quarantine, and things are starting to get real.
Yes, we are extremely fortunate in our situation here in the Netherlands. John is still employed. He has an office set up at home that allows him to watch the boats cruise through the canal (one of his favorite activities). Our apartment is comfortable with large windows that open to let the sunlight and breeze in, and I even have my FES exercise bike here so I can get a workout without going outside. We can walk just one block to the grocery store which is still well-stocked with any item we may need (praise that The Netherlands doesn’t do “panic” the same way the US does). Our church is still broadcasting sermons, and our small group is still meeting remotely. We are connected via technology with our friends here and at home. Overall, we are well.
And yet the situation has become a struggle for me…I’m looking for words as to why.
For the first week and a half of quarantine, I’d say I was doing pretty well. The introvert in me was almost pleased to have an excuse to knit and listen to Harry Potter all day. But as the days have blended together and I’ve found myself unable to identify the date, or even the day of the week…the novelty of quarantine has begun to wear off…and the reality has begun to set in.
In moving to the Netherlands, John and I were so excited to have the opportunity to travel around Europe, to experience a different culture within our city, and to meet new people and build diverse relationships.
Today, our expectations collide hard with our reality…
On this particular day in “expectation world”, we were supposed to be exploring Sevilla, Spain. We should have spent six of the last nine days surveying Northern Spain and would use the next three to discover Southern Spain. We were then intending to return to the Netherlands just shy of the arrival of my sister and parents for a visit at the beginning of April. All of us were anxiously anticipating an expedition to Keukenhof gardens for the tulip festival, and John and I were eager for my family to observe our sweet life here…to see where we live, go to our favorite cafes with us, meet our friends, and spend Easter with us at our church.
In “reality world”, our circumstances look much different. As I’m sure you can relate; our every day is far different than it would be even if we had not been travelling in Spain. This morning we woke up, had breakfast and coffee, and live-streamed the sermon from our church. We did not socialize with friends after service, nor will we get to celebrate the first birthday of our friend’s daughter this afternoon. This week, we will not greet my family at the train station when they arrive from the US. I will not attend women’s Bible study, Dutch lessons, or the International neighbor’s group to catch up with friends. I will not enjoy music time at the library with Sarah’s 3-year-old daughter or go for story-time at their home during dinner on Thursday evening. I’ll blow kisses to Liv and her six-week-old son as we stand six feet apart; and I’ll take a safe-distance walk with Susan on her 30th birthday. Our life group will convene online…but I’ll miss the warmth of being side by side, drinking tea, reading Scripture, learning and growing and praying together.
IN SIMPLER TERMS…
With our time here, John and I expected to travel around Europe.
In reality, we can’t even travel far enough to view the tulip fields from afar.
We expected to explore our city and soak in the culture.
In reality, the cafes, restaurants, shops, churches and museums are all closed. The market squares that are typically crowded with people sit empty, and the streets are eerily silent.
We expected to build relationships and to serve our community as we became embedded in it.
In reality, it is really difficult to do these things when in-person-contact is not allowed. Social nights and dinners and meet-ups at cafes are now at -best more complicated, if not impossible.
And so I’m left feeling sort-of helpless and confused.
Not only are we separated from familiarity and friends and family by an entire ocean during a global pandemic…but the expectations of what our life and purpose might look like here seem to be very misaligned with where reality has dropped us.
What do we do with that?
I’m not sure exactly…but I do know that the subject of the Sunday sermon was one of the biggest expectation vs reality checks in the Bible. In entering Jerusalem near the end of Jesus’ life, the disciples (his followers) expected that he would rise in power and become King over the city. In reality, he was crucified, died and was buried. Can you imagine being one of those disciples? And yet Scripture tells us that the betrayal and death of this Jesus is what leads us to be able to have new life in Him. Although it must have felt like a crushing blow to the disciples based on their expectation, the reality that Jesus chose is what gives us access to salvation and true eternal hope.
His reality was far superior to their expectations…and I believe it always is, no matter how it “feels” in a given circumstance.
In response to this, it’s so tempting for me to throw a “Jesus reigns” band-aid over my confusion and hurt and frustration and try to move on without feeling. What I’m trying to push myself to do instead is to realize that it’s good and acceptable to grieve the differences between my expectations and the reality I am living. Yes, God is in control…yes, I believe that His story is the one I’d ultimately rather live, even if it’s more painful than I expected my life might be…but if I use that knowledge as a band-aid to quickly cover my hurt and frustration instead of bringing these feelings to Him in honesty and humility and asking Him to transform them, I’ll drift towards either bitterness or numbness**…neither of which bear healthy fruit
In addition to allowing ourselves to grieve, I suppose we re-focus our eyes on what always should have been the purpose of our every day here…to grow in a knowledge of and love for Jesus, to live a life seasoned by the good news of the gospel, to speak this good news to those we encounter, and to walk steadfastly in joy and hope and faith towards an eternal life with our Lord… a promise that does not waver, whether we’re exploring Spain, making precious memories with family, or sit quarantined in a tiny apartment.
Yes, we should celebrate the joys of travel and culture and adventure…but those should not be the source of our purpose or comfort. Even if we spend the whole of our nine remaining months in Europe quarantined in our apartment in Delft, God is no less capable of doing a good work in our hearts and good works through our hands.
He has proven His reality to be far superior to expectations in the past, and I have faith that he’ll continue to do so throughout our lives.
“The heart of man plans his way,
but the Lord establishes his steps.”
Proverbs 16:9
**Concept from Hope When it Hurts by Kristen Wetherell and Sarah Walton