Embracing Failure

Three hours later, I drove through a red light and in front of a train.  I stopped at a red light, then forgot I was at said red light, and drove through it.  I didn't even realize it until I heard the horn behind me.  I wasn't texting.  I wasn't fiddling with the radio.  I had both hands on the wheel and eyes straight ahead.  I just sort of… lost it.  I had too much on my plate and on my mind and my brain shut down.  I couldn't focus on anything.  I was a mess.

I realized something had to give.  I asked to be relieved of an upcoming commitment I'd made and I took an afternoon off from working.  I slept.  And laughed.  And rested.  I realized I couldn't do everything I wanted to do.  As much as I long to give 110% to everything I'm involved in, I simply can't.  I'm not enough.

That can be a pretty scary revelation: I cannot do it.  I am not enough.  I have to quit something, pull back somewhere.  I've tried, and I've failed.

Failure doesn't feel too hot.  It feels kind of like narrowly missing an oncoming train.  All you can do is collapse on your bed and cry for a little while.

Then, last night, God started loving on me in that special way that only He can as Austin, my small group leader, talked about failure.  He said, "Leaders have to build a pretty high tolerance for failure. … What have you failed at lately?  If you haven't failed, you haven't tried. … Someone who is failing is learning and preparing for something awesome."

Peace began flooding my soul.  God was picking me back up again.  I began to see that even though I "failed," I was okay.  God was protecting me when I drove through that red light, and He was providing for me when I couldn't do life on my own.  He gave me an afternoon of unexpected rest, relieved me of some responsibilities,  and took care of everything that had been overwhelming me.

When a baby is learning to walk, she falls.  It is normal.  It is not a sign that she will never walk.  It does not shock or disappoint or frustrate her parents.  They pick her up and patiently work with her until her legs grow stronger and her coordination improves.

God frequently asks his disciples to do the impossible.  And He is not surprised or upset when we can't do it on our own. 

In Mark 6:30-43, the disciples came to Jesus and told him that the thousands of people gathered around were hungry and had nothing to eat.  What did Jesus do?  Did he immediately provide for everyone?  No.  He turned to the disciples and said, "You give them something to eat."  That was impossible!  The disciples didn't have enough food for over 5,000 people, and Jesus knew that.  Instead, they just offered what they did have: 5 loaves of bread and two fish.  Their offering was laughable really.  They had failed to do what Jesus asked.  But did Jesus scorn their offering?  Did he point out the obvious– that they hadn't come through?  No.  He took their offering and multiplied it.  He invited them to be a part of the impossible by multiplying their impact through his divine power!

God wants to do the same through me– in my last semester at Furman and on the World Race.  He wants to invite me to do the impossible and then put His power and glory on display as He is strong where I am weak!

I've been terrified of "failing" in some way on the World Race.  By getting so homesick I cry myself to sleep.  By getting caught up in missions to the point that I neglect my personal time with the Lord.  By letting offense come between me and a teammate.  My mind has gone in circles trying to figure out how to strengthen and ready myself now so that when September comes, I will be "good enough" for the race.

Last night, God let me in on a little secret:  I won't be good enough.  I will fail.  Sometimes, I will cry myself to sleep or choose rest over Jesus or get upset with a teammate who borrows my stuff without asking for the millionth time.  But you know what?  That's okay.  Because God will comfort me and pick me back up and encourage me to try walking again.  He's asking me to go on this adventure with Him, knowing already that I will fail.  But He doesn't mind.  He loves me a whole lot, and He loves teaching me how to walk.  And He is ready and willing to pick me back up and hold my hand as I figure this whole life thing out, one day at a time.

I don't have to be "enough" because God is more than enough!  Praise Him!  What freedom!  What wonderful news!

It's okay to fail.  It's okay to have to pick back up and start over, because when we fail, we learn one more way not to do things.  We learn more about ourselves and, even better, we learn more about our God.  We learn about His power to come through, His capacity to love, His patience in our weakness, and much, much more. 

In a world that expects perfection, it is time I embrace failing and the lessons God has for me in my weakness.  I can walk forward without stressing about getting it all right all the time.  Because when I stumble, my Daddy is going to pick me up, hug me, and whisper in my ear how much He loves me.  He's going to handle what I can't.  He's going to multiply the impact of my small, human efforts for His glory.  And He's going to hold my hand as I try walking one more time.