The Power of Story When We Learn to Embrace the Unexpected
Moving from unmet expectations to divine invitations
I was first introduced to Bekah Buchterkirchen through a manuscript submitted to me for editing. It would be weeks before I met her virtually, in person. Unknown to one another, we entered into an intimacy of relationship unfathomable under any other circumstances. It is incredibly humbling to be entrusted with someone’s words. When an author chooses to hit the send button and submit their work to me, they are consciously and intentionally choosing to crack open the shutters of self-protection, often to a complete stranger.
When I open their document for the first time, I fully comprehend, this is not just “a book” or a piece of literature. This is heart and soul stamped out in black ink. Forged through sleepless nights, countless revisions, and deep affection for litanies of language on the page, these authors are not just sharing their work; they are vulnerably inviting me into the deepest crevices of their being.
As an author myself, I understand how terrifying it can be to submit your craft to others for review. As such, I deeply cherish each and every work I am entrusted with by these beautiful creators who paint masterpieces with words and phrases rather than oils and pastels. Bekah Buchterkirchen is a true artist, and her inspiring call to embrace the unexpected has both encouraged and challenged me.
THE POWER OF STORY WHEN WE LEARN TO EMBRACE THE UNEXPECTED - BEKAH BUCHTERKIRCHEN
I walked through the double doors alone. Something I hadn’t done much lately. But with each step, I carried a quiet certainty that God had something waiting for me inside.
Just the day before, I texted a friend: “I have zero expectations about this event, but I’m going and would love for you to join if you’re free!”
Zero expectations. A phrase I learned to welcome after years of battling perfectionism. Disappointment often met me at the door of unmet expectations, so over time, I trained myself not to get my hopes up too much. It felt safer.
After the welcome and worship, I settled into my seat, curious to hear the director share the theme for the weekend. Then she said it.
“EXPECT.”
Immediately, I knew I was right where I needed to be.
Smiling at the subtle realization that God knew exactly what this word meant to me, I leaned in. The thought I couldn’t shake was wondering how long I had pushed away expectations to simply shield myself from being let down. I frequently reminded myself that if you don’t have expectations, you can’t be as hurt. That was the crux of it all for me. Anything to shield me from pain.
The deeper question came next. How long had I been doing this in my walk with God? Had I stopped living with hopeful anticipation that He could do something extraordinary in my life?
Somewhere along the way, I traded wonder for resignation. I still celebrated others’ stories—the miracle healings, the breakthrough moments, the faith-filled testimonies. I even watched God move powerfully within my own church. But when it came to my ordinary days? My expectations dulled. I told myself He was working in unseen ways, and while that’s certainly true, I let it keep me from looking for Him in the here and now. I wanted bigger, brighter, bolder, but He regularly met me in the steady rhythms of motherhood, the small, faithful yeses I almost didn’t count.
But what if the big ways God moves are actually hidden in the small moments we’re quick to overlook?
That’s the tension of living in the “already but not yet” of God’s kingdom. So much is being made new, even when it looks like nothing is changing. We are invited to experience it fully if we have hearts willing to receive it and eyes open enough to notice.
We carry stories within us—some we’ve never fully reconciled, others we don’t know how to fully name. And then there are stories we’re afraid to tell, unsure how they’ll be received.
As I write this, I’m seven months pregnant with a surprise baby who completely disrupted my carefully laid plans. At the very conference I’m writing about, someone from church spotted my no longer easily hidden baby bump and exclaimed, “Oh my goodness! I had no idea you were expecting another baby!”
There it was again. Expecting.
Later, during a break, my friend who accompanied me gently said, “I’ve noticed you haven’t talked much about this pregnancy. Does that happen often this time around that people are surprised to learn you’re pregnant again?”
There was no judgment in her voice—only a soft invitation to share more if I wanted to.
I took a deep breath, letting some words out. I told her I was still processing. I carried the weight of unmet expectations for what I thought this year would hold, tangled up with the longing and hope that this new baby would expand our family in beautiful, stretching ways.
It is a gift to welcome a new soul on this side of heaven. A sacred privilege. One I don’t take lightly as I have witnessed the unmet longings of friends who still yearn for what I’ve been entrusted with for a third time.
But how do you explain the layered emotions of a surprise pregnancy when most people expect a joyful, neatly wrapped answer?
My husband and I waited nearly seven years for our firstborn daughter. Her arrival changed everything—beautifully and completely. Since then, I’ve been pregnant, recovering, nursing, and relearning who I am for nearly five consecutive years. It’s easy to feel disoriented in that kind of season, unsure if the dreams I once carried are still alive somewhere, or if they’ve been quietly shelved for good. These are the aspects of parenting I hold in tension, wondering how many others would be willing to say they struggle with it all, too.
This time around, I’m not curious about what the next year holds—I know. I know the newborn fog, the sleepless nights, the intrusive thoughts, the sacred sweetness of new life in your arms. I know the intimacy shifts in marriage, the deeper partnership that forms, the isolation that creeps in when no one else sees the full picture. The joy and the ache. The gratitude and the grief. It all shows up, side by side, wrapped into this very blessed gift.
And yet again, I wonder if what we’re tempted to dismiss as “small” is where God is most actively present.
Expectations evolve. They stretch and shift as we do. Some are let go. Others come to life in forms we never imagined. What expectations are you carrying right now—fulfilled or unmet? Which ones are you releasing or welcoming with open hands?
As I wrestle with these questions myself, anticipating God is at work in holy ways I simply cannot make out the complete picture of just yet, I return to this prayer. A reminder of who God is, even when we can’t yet see all He’s doing:
“And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.”
(Ephesians 3:17–21, NIV)
God’s love and power don’t merely meet our needs; they overflow. What we often label as “unmet expectations” in the messy middle parts of life may actually be divine invitations. Not just to endure this life but to live it fully—anchored in His love and open to whatever unexpected goodness may still unfold.
Whatever expectations you carry today, I pray you’ll have the courage to set them down, even if just for a moment, and receive the life God is gently inviting you into—as gloriously mundane or monumental as it may be.
May we take one small step of faith today, believing that God is not only able, but already at work, doing immeasurably more than we can ask or imagine.
Are there unmet expectations in your life that have left you feeling disappointed or confused? Are you residing in resignation rather than hopeful anticipation? How does Bekah’s encouragement help you reframe those unmet expectations as divine invitations?
Let’s Share Stories! I hope you will continue to join me as we celebrate the power of story together. Click on the links below to subscribe or share.
Bekah Buchterkirchen is a writer, speaker, freelancer, and joyful apprentice to the life and teachings of Jesus. She is married to her college sweetheart turned pastor and is a smitten mama to two littles. Passionate about encouraging moms in the trenches, she writes to help them seek the Lord daily, even when they worry it’s not enough.
She is the author of Seen in the Unseen: A 4-Week Devotional for Mamas of Littles and shares more at her Substack, The Middle Moments.
OTHER UPDATES FROM MEGAN
I will be a featured speaker at this year’s 2025 Enjoy God’s Word Women’s Online Bible Conference. Click on the link below to register for FREE for the full 3-day conference.
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Summer 2025 issue. Click on the link below to order your copy or pick up a FREE copy at your local Baptist church.
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I’m so excited to announce I have a new children’s book, François The Dashing Croaker, NOW AVAILABLE on Amazon! Click on the link below to order your copy today!
Bekah, thanks for sharing your story! One of my biggest fears is being pregnant again. I have 2 kids already and that is enough for me so I can understand at least some of how you're feeling with the surprise pregnancy. -from another Becca :)
Bekah, you are such a lovely writer and human. Megan, thank you for so generously sharing your space. Such a joy to know you both. 💕