I didn’t know I could be this tired.

Another week, another exam, another hour of your morning being spent trying to figure out how to force a guttural “r” out of your throat.

Another week, another meeting, another round of trying to figure out what it means to contextualize everything you thought was easy to apply everywhere.

Another week, another store, another chance for strangers to give you the strange look because your words are hard to understand.

All of the above hold something in common.

Failure.

It’s a part of the picture. It’s a part of my every day life. It’s a part of what it means to be new. Because no matter who you are or how special you may think you are, you cannot avoid the failing part of this level of transition. You cannot run away from the embarrassing moments. I cannot not fail.

It’s an easy concept to quote. Just look up a good Abraham Lincoln quote or something catchy from Winston Churchill and “be inspired.” It’s easy to run out of that leadership seminar and think that you’ve got it down. It’s another thing to live it out. It’s another thing to wake up in the morning and ask the Sun to not trick you, because as shiny as it seems outside, you cannot be fooled out of thinking that this day will cost more than you expect.

As pessimistic as that may seem, it comes with a hope that’s hard to understand, for me and probably you too. You see, the moment you think you are ready to stop failing is soon followed by the moment that you have to cover up with pride. Because it happened again, that failure thing. You thought you were starting to get a handle on things, but you were asked to do something you have no idea how to do. You get angry, or you blame someone else, or you try to do anything to protect that growing pride inside of you.

Then something snaps, and you crumble. You realize you couldn’t avoid this… that you have to fail awhile longer. Therein is the choice: to submit or to fight. And if you’re lucky, you’ll choose submit. Because in the humility comes healing, at least for a moment. In the surrender comes waiting. In your death comes resurrection.

 

Remember, you were never in control anyway.

Failing this much takes energy you don’t have. It’s ironic, really. But since when did any of this upside-down Jesus life make sense?

Thanks God, it doesn’t.

Still Wandering,

Tony