Failing is something to despise. Missing the mark doesn’t sit well. In an ideal world, the record would read flawless—countless successes and zero failures. It might sound unrealistic, but it’s the truth. When I fail, my instinct is to vanish into the background and be the Invisible Woman. I find solace in hiding away; being a bit of a loner is a natural inclination for me.
Yet, I’ve realized that taking the well-trodden path of seclusion is too easy for someone like me. So, despite my nature, I challenge myself to embrace the road less traveled—the one I typically avoid at all costs.
Admittedly, failure is tough—no sugar-coating that truth. But as a person of faith, I feel compelled to align my life with Christ’s teachings. That means bidding adieu to my friendship with “Hiding Out,” even when failing makes me feel like a kicker missing the game-winning field goal—utterly embarrassed.
But here’s the thing: I’ve come to accept failure as a catalyst for growth. Sure, I’m not perfect, so failure comes knocking hard every now and then. And you know what? I’ve learned to see each stumble as an opportunity to become better. It’s a conscious choice.
Shifting perspective has been my game-changer. Failure isn’t a dead-end; it’s a moldable force that can shape us profoundly—if we let it.
Here’s some mindset and tips that have been my guiding lights through these moments:
- Remembering that a righteous person falls seven times but rises again (Proverbs 24:16).
- The act of getting back up after failure can be life-changing.
- Failure is a teacher; the key is to be open to its lessons.
- Focus on the lesson, not the failure itself.
- Failure often reveals aspects of ourselves we didn’t know existed.
- Send yourself an email noting how you bounced back from failure—a reminder for future challenges. Make the title unforgettable.
Real strength is often realized in the face of adversity. It means using every experience—good, bad, and the downright ugly—as fuel for growth and transformation. Yes, even the less-than-pleasant experiences contribute to our growth.
We must learn to embrace our entirety—even the messy in-between. It’s about finding that balance. No more excusing ourselves when we falter, but equally important, no more self-flagellation—condemnation has no place at our table.
If God loves us despite knowing our flaws, it’s about time we learn to love ourselves—gratefully acknowledging that we are fearfully and wonderfully made.
Sometimes I wonder why God doesn’t steer us away from failure, then I remember the words from 2 Corinthians 12:9-10:
“But he said to me, ‘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. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
If we grasp that thinking and receive it in our hearts, it will change our lives and move us toward maturity. How we respond to life represents whether we are still handling things like a child. Are we having adult temper tantrums? Or are we trusting God to work things out and be responsible in how we put feet to our faith. Are we making mature faith moves or are we sitting with our arms folded grumbling and complaining.
14 Do all things without grumbling or disputing, 15 that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world,
Philippians 2:14-15
We have to be intentional in our pursuit of maturity. It leads to a life representing how we become more like Christ, even in our failures.
