When I think of failure, I picture the middle school version of myself.
You know the one - awkward, gangly, dressed in the not-cool clothes and the only person who hasn't figured it out. It's that raw, tender side of myself that if I'm honest, I'd much rather pretend isn't there. Like most everyone, I don't like to think about, talk about, or even admit failure. I don't think I'm alone in that thought.
But what if failures are the best part of me?
Recently I was thinking about the "failure may be allright" idea in all places, during a workout at the gym. I love to do a group-style workout where the trainers yell, I mean encourage you for 45 minutes straight. It's high energy sweaty fun mixed with go ahead and crush me. This type of workout demands something that I would never get if I had to do it on my own.
"Get to failure!" our trainer yells. "Because when you get to failure that is good. It means you are growing, pushing yourself to the limit, and you are going to be stronger when you're done."
What if the same idea is true in life? Could the failures be what make the best me? The time when I flunked high school geometry, when I let my family down, when I made choices that I knew were the wrong ones. All of those tiny and major failures -- ugly, difficult, and soul-crushing defeats. What if those were transformative gifts in disguise? Looking back, I see those fails were what moved me along to say, "I want it to be different next time. I want to choose better. I'm going to use this for more."
There is a pretty famous passage in scripture found in 2 Corinthians 12:9 which says, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. (NIV)
If I'm honest, I've never liked that verse. I don't want to be weak. I don't like depending on other people, let alone having to surrender by faith when I can't do it on my own. But if you have ever come to the end of yourself, if you have ever tried everything you know how to do and still failed, this verse makes sense.
My invitation is to let your failures be your friends. Or at least hear them out to see if they have something to teach you. Don't get stuck in "rumination station"-- dwelling on mistakes and disappointments, but let them inspire you for leverage. In the words, of my trainers, "Get to failure!" Because that is precisely where life gets good.
If you begin to see your failures as the arrows that light the way, it changes things. Allow them to be the fastest route to a better, stronger you. Let them be part of your own personal life adventure. When you get to the end of the tale, your failures might be the very best part of the story.
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