“I don’t care what you pick, but pick something!”
Betty’s eleven-year-old son had become one with the couch. She could barely distinguish where his body ended and the cushions began. Mr. Negativity booed every suggestion she made. Finally, she passed a mandate. His choice, but he would have to choose some sort of activity.
He tried a variety of musical instruments from horns to reeds only to discover not just a dearth of talent but a complete lack of interest. He tried track, dropping out in mid season when he gasped for breath after the fifty-yard dash. He even tried playing hockey, quitting after the first season because the coach only played the better skaters.
The list of failed attempts grew—sometimes because of poor effort and sometimes because adults failed to encourage him. Then he went out for the swim team. He never became a fast swimmer, but as his strength increased, so did his endurance. He became a competent, long distance swimmer, usually placing well enough to earn his team a few points. He advanced his skills to become a lifeguard and camp counselor. Betty’s son learned that failure was merely the opportunity to succeed at something else.
Many folks made New Year Resolutions. For most, those lofty want-to-change-my-life ideas have already fallen by the wayside. One man remarked, “I made five, I’m down to two I’m still working on.”
When faced with failure, we have an option. We can wallow in defeat, hit ourselves with wet noodles or try to understand the good and worse of the attempt and then learn to go on to something different. Or perhaps even try again with a different approach.
This same truth applies to our spiritual lives. Sometimes we think this Christian walk much too restrictive, like a 900-calorie diet. We truly want to be closer to God. With the same idealism that we approach our New Year resolutions, we zealously promise to be at church every time the doors are open. We vow to read ten chapters of the Bible every day. And, we’re going to give away half our income to the poor.
When we reach the low point and realize that the best of our human efforts fall well below our best intentions…when we think we are incapable of doing this thing called Christian…that’s when God is most able to teach us how to depend on Him. With the absence of pride, He then can show us deeper spiritual truths. For at these vulnerable places of failure, we are ready to listen.
Failure is a teacher that forces us to evaluate and redirect. We grow by falling down, standing up, and trying again. But, when we fall, God does not leave us crying face down in the dirt. He puts His loving arms around us, picks us up, and dusts us off. He may send us right back into the game, encourage us to try something different, or to examine our failure from new heights of clarity. With each attempt, we learn to trust Him a little more.
“For we have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure” (Hebrews 6:19a NIV).
Betty’s eleven-year-old son had become one with the couch. She could barely distinguish where his body ended and the cushions began. Mr. Negativity booed every suggestion she made. Finally, she passed a mandate. His choice, but he would have to choose some sort of activity.
He tried a variety of musical instruments from horns to reeds only to discover not just a dearth of talent but a complete lack of interest. He tried track, dropping out in mid season when he gasped for breath after the fifty-yard dash. He even tried playing hockey, quitting after the first season because the coach only played the better skaters.
The list of failed attempts grew—sometimes because of poor effort and sometimes because adults failed to encourage him. Then he went out for the swim team. He never became a fast swimmer, but as his strength increased, so did his endurance. He became a competent, long distance swimmer, usually placing well enough to earn his team a few points. He advanced his skills to become a lifeguard and camp counselor. Betty’s son learned that failure was merely the opportunity to succeed at something else.
Many folks made New Year Resolutions. For most, those lofty want-to-change-my-life ideas have already fallen by the wayside. One man remarked, “I made five, I’m down to two I’m still working on.”
When faced with failure, we have an option. We can wallow in defeat, hit ourselves with wet noodles or try to understand the good and worse of the attempt and then learn to go on to something different. Or perhaps even try again with a different approach.
This same truth applies to our spiritual lives. Sometimes we think this Christian walk much too restrictive, like a 900-calorie diet. We truly want to be closer to God. With the same idealism that we approach our New Year resolutions, we zealously promise to be at church every time the doors are open. We vow to read ten chapters of the Bible every day. And, we’re going to give away half our income to the poor.
When we reach the low point and realize that the best of our human efforts fall well below our best intentions…when we think we are incapable of doing this thing called Christian…that’s when God is most able to teach us how to depend on Him. With the absence of pride, He then can show us deeper spiritual truths. For at these vulnerable places of failure, we are ready to listen.
Failure is a teacher that forces us to evaluate and redirect. We grow by falling down, standing up, and trying again. But, when we fall, God does not leave us crying face down in the dirt. He puts His loving arms around us, picks us up, and dusts us off. He may send us right back into the game, encourage us to try something different, or to examine our failure from new heights of clarity. With each attempt, we learn to trust Him a little more.
“For we have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure” (Hebrews 6:19a NIV).
