Failure

I am a failure. That’s right. I am. I make mistakes all of the time. I even have a diagnosed learning disability. Dyslexia. That has been the source of a lot of failing in my life. I’m not naturally good at much. I don’t have great rhythm or a good singing voice. I am not overly athletic or artistic, but what I am good at is failing. For those of you who are reading this and rolling your eyes because you think that I am exaggerating because you have seen me succeed, I’m not. I have gotten really good at knowing what to do with failure, and I keep working until I succeed. 

Growing up, when I was learning about what it meant to have dyslexia, people kept trying to frame it as a gift. I liked this outlook when I was younger but I don’t know that I buy it anymore. Having dyslexia hasn’t given me a leg up in life. I can’t read or spell very well. Dyslexia doesn’t give me any special advantage that I am aware of. Dyslexia hasn’t given me anything but a lot of opportunities to fail. To this day, when I am asked to read publicly, I will stumble over my words or if I write something that others will see (without an editor) I can almost guarantee that someone will point out some word that I wrote wrong. This is quite embarrassing. I’m used to it. I have learned to respond to people watching me mess up. I know how to shake it off and laugh at myself and try again. I have also learned to acknowledge my shortcomings and compensate for them. When I know I will have to read publicly, I memorize the reading beforehand. When presenting or teaching, I have to really know my content because there is no way I would be able to smoothly read notes and share content. I remember when taking spelling tests, I rarely ever passed them with my first attempt. I would go home and train as hard as I could, as if I was trying out for the Olympics. I would sometimes ace the second attempt and sometimes I would fail, but usually I would at least achieve a passing grade. I do have to give my mother credit; she spent countless hours helping me study. Through my educational career I failed more tests than I can count. I got very good at shrugging them off, doubling down and making up for it next time. Eventually, I did graduate with a high GPA, but it took a lot of hard work and adjustments to get there.  

My failures are not limited to academics. There was the time that I got cut from show choir, literally a lifelong dream shattered in minutes. I was devastated but tried out again the following year and made it. My football career wasn’t much better. For three long years I did my best but only got significant time playing junior varsity. I stuck with it and was named a starter and a captain my senior year. In my last two football seasons, we lost 18 of our 20 games. I learned about working hard for minimal results. As I got older my interest shifted to canoeing. I have never worked harder than I did when I was learning to paddle a white-water canoe. One day I had a chance to prove myself as a white-water paddler. I set out on the Youghiogheny River with a class full of my friends. I was tossed from rapid to rapid with no reprieve. I ended the trip humbled, drenched, and scared to get back on the water because I couldn’t take any more failure. Over time I have worked my way back into being able to canoe. I haven’t tried any water that big since that day but I am ready to give it another shot. 

Call it grit, determination, or just plain not knowing when to quit, failure has developed in me the ability to work through adversity and find success. When you fail as much as I have, you get used to the discomfort and realize that it really doesn’t have to define you. I am not my failures, or my successes for that matter. I am simply a beloved son of the King. I have learned to accept my failures as opportunities to learn and grow. James 1:2-4 states, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds,  because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.  Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”  James probably wasn’t talking about failing, but the same principle applies. Failing helps us mature. 

You don’t have to have a learning disability to reap the benefits of failure. Just look for opportunities where you won’t have instant success. Step out and let people watch you fail. It will not feel good. Then get back out there and do it again. And again. And again, until you succeed. Then ask yourself, “What was that like? What did I feel during each step of the process?” Identify those feelings and name exactly where they come from. I find that once I identify the why, I can start to work towards solutions and eventually success. If you try something and immediately succeed, you didn’t try something hard enough or you got lucky. Maybe try something bigger. You will grow more from failing. 

I once received some feedback that I am not afraid to fail. It was observed that I just try things and see what happens. I’m like this because of how I have gotten used to failing. The mindset that failure has fostered has allowed me to have significant successes too. Things like writing blogs and starting a gap-year program, or even being a mascot would have never happened if I was afraid of failure. Being fearless in the face of potential failure, and rooted in Christ, will allow you to step out and live the life intended for you. Go try something that you will likely fail at today and see what happens. It might just change your life for the better. 

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