I’ve finally decided to embrace that some things in life don’t turn out the way I expected.
Some relationships fade. Others change, shifting from friendships to acquaintances. People I assumed understood our family’s dynamics and struggles have left us feeling uncared for and abandoned. Conversations I hoped would bring resolution have instead created more questions and confusion.
(To be fair, and less dramatic, other relationships have grown deeper where I assumed no interest was there. This has been encouraging!)
But it hasn’t just been relationships.
There have been circumstances where I’ve put in the effort, applied what I know, demonstrated enormous faith, and felt confident in my ability to do what was in front of me, only to have the outcome still be disappointing.
The funds weren’t there.
The healing never came.
The prophecy was left unfulfilled.
The response, analytics, and “success” were far lower (or completely absent) than my efforts warranted.
Someone’s commitment suddenly changed, and I was left without the partnership or support I thought I had.
All of this has forced me to confront something that has affected much of my life: I have often measured whether I was doing the right thing (or doing it well) by whether I got the outcome I expected.
The problem is, I don’t control outcomes.
I can initiate a difficult conversation. I cannot control how the other person responds.
I can love my children, acknowledge my failures, celebrate my successes, and continue trying to be the kind of dad I want to be. But I cannot control what our relationship will look like.
I can care for my health, support my wife in hers, and hope for healing. But I cannot control the prognosis.
I can prepare, work diligently, and use the skills I have developed. I cannot guarantee people will respond, the money will come, or someone will follow through on their commitment.
I can have enormous faith (at least compared to the size of a mustard seed). I can pray, trust God, and believe a mountain can move. But my faith does not give me control over whether the mountain actually moves… especially in the way or timing I think it should.
Those are actions I can choose. What happens because of them is an outcome I cannot control.
That distinction has become incredibly important for me because when I make an outcome my goal, I give something outside of my control the ability to determine whether I believe there is any hope, redemption, or peace.
Eventually, enough unwanted (or disappointing) outcomes can leave me feeling powerless and hopeless.
So I’m learning to define my goals by the actions available to me while still hesitantly allowing myself to desire outcomes I cannot control.
I’m also learning there is a difference between desire and hope.
While there are still outcomes I desperately want, I am choosing to put my energy toward desires where there is evidence for hope. Actual reasons to continue investing my time, energy, and heart into those endeavors.
However, I cannot manufacture that evidence myself. Is there movement? Engagement? Ownership? Is something actually happening that gives me reason to believe the outcome I want is possible? If there is, I can remain hopeful without trying to control it. And if there isn’t, I can grieve what I wanted without becoming powerless or hopeless myself.
I can own what is in my power.
And I can take the next available step… and probably release the outcome, anyway.
With hope,
Nathan
