The Futility of Expectations in Human Relationships

Recently, I had an opportunity to reflect on how useless and exhausting expectations can be in human relationships. We often invest so much emotional energy in what we hope others will do for us, only to discover that such expectations are entirely of our own making. And yet, when those expectations are not met, we frequently project the discomfort and disappointment onto the other person — something that happens far more often than we realize.

For instance, expecting a child with no sense of rhythm or movement to become a dancer, or a child without musical sensitivity to become a world-class musician, or feeling ashamed of or despairing over a child born with a physical deformity — these are all acts that bring unhappiness to everyone involved. When, however, we learn to acknowledge and accept one another just as we are, we free ourselves from needless stress and come to realize that happiness requires no special conditions.

Several years ago, there was an elderly church custodian whose twelve-year-old grandson, Daniel, was born with severe congenital disabilities and suffered many illnesses. I was deeply moved by how sincerely and wholeheartedly his entire family loved him. Even the custodian’s daughter-in-law had a mild congenital condition, so one can imagine the sorrow she must have felt when her own grandson was born with similar difficulties. Yet, rather than living in despair, the family came together more often than most wealthy or healthy families. Their home was always filled with laughter; it seemed that joy itself never left their door.

Whenever they met me or any member of my family, they would proudly introduce Daniel and talk about him endlessly. Though Daniel sat in a wheelchair, unable to lift his head or close his mouth, often drooling, they would gently take my hand and place it in his — encouraging me to touch, to hug, and to kiss him. In that home, there was no shadow, only love that overflowed.

I have also been deeply touched by the way many Americans love their adopted children. Among my acquaintances is a couple who adopted two daughters — one from Korea and one from China. To help them embrace their roots, the parents diligently study each child’s native culture and language: they teach the Korean daughter to speak Korean, the Chinese daughter to speak Chinese, and they learn the customs and manners of each land. When I heard that they plan to adopt another child with physical disabilities, I could not help but bow my head in admiration. Their capacity to love without expectation, to give without thought of return, is profoundly beautiful.

Although love should be unconditional, I must confess that I, too, have often attached hidden conditions to it. I expect my children to excel in their studies, to be recognized wherever they go, to behave in ways that do not disappoint me. Yet such expectations only wear me down, leaving me tired, disheartened, and sometimes angry — foolish remnants of self-centered desire.

Jesus never expected anything from the weak or the broken. He accepted them as they were, loving them unconditionally. When I realize how easily I place conditions and expectations even upon my family and congregation, I am led to repent. The heart that can love and accept others “just as they are” is surely a gift from heaven. Ultimately, such acceptance is not merely for the sake of others, but for the peace of one’s own soul — a path toward deeper joy and a higher quality of life.