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The Difference Between Expectations and Hope

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The Difference Between Expectations and Hope

 

 

 

 

 

Listen to an audio recording of this blog post here:

Disclaimer: I wrote this for a talk I presented to wives healing from marriage betrayal trauma. I am posting it as I gave it for us and others who are on this same journey. However, the crux of the message can apply to everyone who struggles with expectations and longs to find a better way.


Expectation:
a belief that someone will or should achieve something.
Hope: a desire for a certain thing to happen. A feeling of trust.

Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. Hebrews 11:1 NIV

I come by my ability to set high expectations naturally. It was the culture of my family and the church environment I grew up in. Now, whether they did that on purpose or not, I don’t know, I’m guessing they didn’t. But still, placing high expectations on myself and others is in my DNA. Hope, on the other hand, is not something I’m good at. But it is everything I’ve had to learn in order to survive these last few years.

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Dear hurting wife, I see you.

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Dear hurting wife, I see you.

Dear hurting wife, I see you.

I see you because I am you.

I see your despair behind those honest but cleverly crafted Facebook posts.

I see your questions because I, too, have questions.

I see your fears for I, too, battle the all-consuming flames.

I see your utter loneliness while standing in the midst of the crowd.

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You Won’t Cry Forever

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You Won’t Cry Forever

I’m not a big crier. I don’t typically cry during movies or other times when it seems normal for people to cry. Sometimes I’ve even thought my crier must be broken. But an event took place a few years ago in my personal life that turned my tear faucet on full blast and I thought the handle might be stuck.

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This Is the Church

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This is the Church

This is the Church.

Forgive me for taking pictures during church but it was a sacred moment that I had to permanently capture. It needed to be more than a mental memory because those memories (at my age) are all too fleeting these days.

This is about a woman who was sitting in church alone… with tear-stained cheeks and a used up tissue. 

 

 

This is about a woman who was alone. Until she wasn’t.

 

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