More About Expectation

In the morning, O LORD, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation. (Psalm 5:3)

My granddad is a man of few words. He observes a lot, but reserves his spoken observations for when it matters. So when he’s got something to say, it seems the whole world stops and takes notice. And more often than not, it’s to the world’s benefit that it did.

Grandpa Al, or George as he’s known to some, is looking forward to his 101st birthday in a few months. All the more reason to stop and listen.

Big fan of the NBA and especially Shaq, Grandpa got to see the Miami Heat play last year for his 100th birthday.

I was thinking the other day as we celebrated Christmas with my family that Grandpa Al reminds me some of Enoch, the fellow who “walked with God for 300 years.” I sometimes get the idea that Grandpa wouldn’t mind being just like him. I need to be careful here, because Grandpa’s a regular reader, and I don’t want to say something that would be taken the wrong way. Last Christmas he told us he’d heard the first hundred years were the hardest and he was looking forward to the next hundred.

Obviously my 300-year reference is in part about age, but moreso it’s a reflection of his longstanding relationship with God. He’s walked with God for nearly a third as long as Enoch. And to my mind, his reputation is at least as sound. He’s a man of the Word, and he’s a man of prayer, and he’s been providing a godly example to all kinds of folks around him for a very long time.

Not the least of which are the three generations of children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren who span out in front of him.

He’s passed down an amazing heritage of faith to those generations, and I’m so grateful for that. But I don’t mind telling you he also passed down a sharp wit and a fabulous sense of humor. If you’ve met any of George’s descendants and wonder where they get it, look no further. There are all kinds of apples on the ground that fell not so far from that brilliant tree.

So then it comes as no surprise that at family gatherings when Grandpa makes it known that he’s ready to start telling stories and jokes, whatever we’re all doing comes to a screeching halt, and everybody pulls their chairs in a little closer to hear what he has to say and get a good laugh. Grandpa’s always told a good story. But when he’s a hundred and tells the story, it’s a hundred times better.

This year at our Christmas gathering, Grandpa didn’t disappoint. Among the stories he told was one about which I promptly made some notes. I’m hoping I can do his storytelling justice. He told of a woman, who from the day she and her husband had been married, worried about a burglar entering their home. So each night, she insisted that her husband go and check to be sure the doors were locked before they could go to bed. Even when they’d been married for thirty years he was still faithfully checking the locks at her nightly urging. One night, she heard a noise and dispatched her husband back downstairs to investigate.

“It must be a burglar!” she exclaimed.

So her husband went downstairs, and flipped on the light, only to find a man standing there with a gun pointed at him. “Just hold on right there!” the husband said. “I want you to come upstairs and meet my wife. She’s been expecting you for thirty years!”

The other day we talked about Simeon’s lifelong expectation and anticipation for the Messiah, fulfilled when he at last held the Child in his arms. I’ve continued to ponder the thought of expectation as the days of Christmas have continued on. Maybe because of Simeon’s all consuming sense of expectation. Maybe because of my earlier neglect of any sense of expectation.

Or maybe it was just because of Grandpa Al’s story of a wife’s expectation, a husband’s gracious attending to it, and a burglar’s long awaited arrival.

Expectation.

I just wonder sometimes what I truly expect of God. Sure, I expect Him to be good to me. I expect Him to have expectations of me. I expect of Him in a very general sense.

But in the every moment? In the very specific details? Do I really expect Him to come through? Am I as convinced of Him as the wife in Grandpa’s story was of the burglar?

Convinced enough that I would go and check each and every night?

David writes in the Psalm that he lays his requests before God every morning, and then waits in expectation. He waits in expectation because He knows God will come through. He knows God will deliver. David might have to wait, but he knows He will come through. He’s not wishing, he’s expecting. You expect when you’re confident of the outcome.

I think my granddad knows some things about waiting in expectation too. He’s been waiting on God more years than I can imagine. He knows God comes through. And he expects Him to.

Even if it takes thirty years. Or a hundred years.