Tip of My Iceberg

Morning people often get a bad rap from night owls. Those who associate perkiness with sunrise are often seen as annoying and obnoxious.

This is my story.

When I awake in the morning–usually 5 a.m.–I’m fully engaged with my surroundings. And with people. Conversation isn’t a problem.

I wake up with words.

This morning when I awoke, something wasn’t quite right. I wasn’t quite me.

I awoke with the dizzles. Fuzzy-headed and dizzy. Annoying but not worrisome.

I walked down the stairs, which presented a challenge. The steps were moving with me. Like an escalator. Except sideways.

Observation: stairs and dizzles don’t go well together.

My usual routine centers around some quiet, contemplative time with Jesus. Space and quiet to think. Then I heft my pair of three-pound weights and head out for a walk in the cool morning air.

Contemplation turned into quiet consternation. Reading made my head hurt. My writing, which is barely legible at best, came out looking more like chicken scratches on paper.

Hang the walk. I went back to bed. I knew a little rest–at least closing my eyes for a bit–would level my brain to near normalcy.

It wasn’t long before I was brought to rapid alertness by a tentative poking finger.

Opening my eyes, I saw my husband, with a look of concern on his face. Serious concern. Which prompted my compassionate response.

“What do you want?”

“I thought you were dead.”

He wasn’t kidding.

I tend not to move when I sleep. Going back to bed, I was in the same position as when we’d gone to bed the night before. Having experienced me all these many years as being awake and moving way before he opens his  baby blues, he thought I’d passed away in the night.

I can count on one hand the times in our marriage when he has gotten up before me. It’s usually when I’m sick. Or have just had a baby.

OK, two hands.

He expected me to be a certain way. To act like I always do. I hadn’t cooperated. It scared him.

We all know intuitively that nobody thinks or acts like we do. We’re a product of our unique stories.

But we ALL act like EVERYBODY thinks and acts like we do.

That leads to unmet expectations. Which segues into disappointment, frustration or fear.

The prophet Jeremiah was tasked by God with telling Israel they’d blown it in their efforts at following Him. God also informed him that his efforts wouldn’t be appreciated. That he’d find himself homeless and lonely. But he was reminded of God’s character and promises in the midst of his unhappy circumstances.

“The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is His faithfulness; His mercies begin afresh each morning.”   Lamentations 3:22-23

When John saw me in a way he hadn’t expected, he was scared. Me? I usually respond to such circumstances with disappointment or fear.

God has guaranteed those who choose Him mercy that is always available–not getting what we really deserve. Faithfulness that is never ending–He keeps His promises. I can expect to be loved and cared for by Him. Eternally.

No disappointment there.

How do you respond to unmet expectations?