my greatest expectation

is that we go with gusto

I’ve been wrestling with the difference between hopes and expectations lately.

I live with gusto.

When I ride a bike, I do it with gusto.

When I tear down a wall or go thinning trees, I do it with gusto.

When I go to war against someone? I tend to bring gusto along there too.

Once I decide or I go into a state, the gusto is always there.

With a flighty mind and wild wiring, I wrestle with a lot. If you’re ever with me, you’ll notice at times I’m not really paying attention to you. I’m not. I’m wrestling. I’m not wrestling with gusto though. Like I said above, these days, you can hope that I’m listening, but if I’m not, you can expect that I’m likely wrestling, waiting for something from you to catch my attention.

Let me lower your expectations with a fact: I’m imperfect and I’ve stopped caring when I screw up. I believe that when people say important things, I’ll notice. I hope that this is true.

Expectations are really easy to sniff out. They stink like a bag of maggoty chicken. They have …