Fail

Failure. It stings. 

When we do something wrong, when we try and it doesn’t work out, when we put ourselves out there and we don’t succeed. Failure is a part of life and yet the hardest pill to swallow. Pride has such a huge part to play. We want to believe that we are able to do anything. We are told “you can do anything you set your heart on!” We believe that we could do most things if we tried. But how often do we try? We run the risk of failing, of not matching up, of not hitting the mark. Fear keeps us in our seats, keeps our hands at our sides, keeps our thoughts hidden. But every so often we find the courage and we go for it. We put ourselves out there, on a ledge, and try at something with all that we have. And more often than not, we succeed! There is a truth in pride, the truth that if you work and try it does pay off.

But, sometimes, it doesn’t. And failure happens. That moment when you know you didn’t quite do what you meant to. You stuffed up, you made a mistake, you failed. You hit the ground hard, and you bruise your backside. The idea of yourself, that proud image of the god-you is broken, and you are reminded again that you are but man and you are made up of mistakes. When you have done something wrong you can apologize, you can right it, but you know deep down that it is ‘my bad’. And that always hurts a little. But without failure we do not learn how to succeed. Without it we cannot experience humility and the knowledge that there are people that are better than us everywhere we look. A sobering, honest relieving thought. We would not learn to rely on others, not put all the weight on ourselves.

Failure hurts because we want to succeed. And how it hurts when you are trying to achieve a worthy goal. Trying to succeed, trying to fall pregnant. Every month, you try try try. You try to eat the right foods, you try to have sex at the exact right time - you try to have sex all the time (just in case, you can never try too much). You try to have faith, you try to think positive. And then you fail. And you think, “what did we do wrong?” Was it bad timing, where you not in it, did you not TRY hard enough?

When we found out I had poly cystic ovaries I felt like such a failure. All along you are trying and wondering “am I the one that is failing in this?” I was devastated to discover that there were numerous cysts in my ovaries (due to an increased level of testosterone in my ovaries) that meant my eggs were either not being released or being released too early or late. I felt like I had failed at one of my purposes as a woman, child bearing. It is not an infertility sentence, I can fall pregnant, but it would involve more work and possibly medication. And it was the main reason why after a year we had not succeeded.

There is a moment in life when you realize that you are just you, and there are better people and a bigger God out there who is so much more than you could ever be. The sobering thought that you will not always get it right, no matter how hard you try, because you are broken, fallen, sinful. But at that moment, when God comes around you, you can also feel more loved than anyone in the entire world. More special than all the others, because you were created to be you, warts and all.

Failure is an emotion, an action, a headspace that I want to inhabit. I want to be okay with not getting it right. I want to be at peace with tripping up. I want to be humble in my spirit so that when others around me are getting it right when I am wrong again and again, it’s ok. I want to celebrate in another’s achievement, and share with another’s load of grief. I want to be lifted up, not brought down.

I have come to terms with my failings. I trust God in my circumstances. I would much rather know where my weaknesses lie than live with blind spots that consume me. I am content with my body, no matter what failings I find. Because I know I serve a God that is bigger than my body, or my mistakes, or my circumstances, or my feelings. And so I walk wounded, but still standing. A failure, on the road to success.