In today’s culture we are taught to detest failure, to avoid it like a plague. Our society rewards success and punishes failure. We grow up feeling inadequate if and when our appetite for success is not ‘strong’ enough. We give no room for failure in our lives and extend no grace to those who fail. Hence, we navigate life with a debilitating fear of failure. This attitude is often transplanted into our relationship with God. We assume God has no accommodations for failure and, for that reason, we find ourselves in a rather unhealthy competition for impeccability (imagine the number of Christian songs about ‘winning’ and ‘not losing’). But when our humanity –a humanity of flaws and failings – rears its ugly head, we resign into a fatalistic laxity and lose sight of God’s relentless love. Some people might even put on a cloak of hypocrisy by working so hard to be perfect on the outside when, on the inside, they reek with fears and defeats. Personally, I tend to be quite suspicious of neatly-folded lives; I often wonder how and why some Christians purportedly lack the vocabulary of brokenness and struggle in their archive of experience. Don’t get me wrong, I am not trying to throw a shade at Christians with orderly lives. After all, apart from Jesus, there are people such as Daniel, Enoch, Job and Mary in the Bible who lived perfect lives and we should all emulate them. What I am saying, however, is that, most of the time, those Christians whom we think of as perfect Christians also have their inner struggles (they are just better at handling– or hiding– them than the rest of us). My definition of failure in this blogpost is all encompassing; it includes all our inadequacies, fears, unwilful sins, defeats, flaws, weaknesses, mistakes and so on.
I have found myself failing God over and over again (but, really, can anyone fail God?). Sometimes I fear that He might one day run out of patience for me. Sometimes I cry myself to sleep when I am reminded of that verse that states that God’s spirit “shall not always strive with man” (Genesis 6:3). However, in the midst of my knackering disillusionment, I stumbled on another scripture which, to a large extent, has made me realize that God is more patient with me than I am with myself: “even youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall UTTERLY FALL” (Isaiah 40:30).
Seriously? Is God saying that macho men of the spirit sometimes get crushed by the vicissitudes of life? That the strongest of us get tired at times? Yes, life sometimes feels like a lump in the throat and even the most resilient of us are unable to save their eyes from welling up with tears. The Psalmist recognizes this truth as he comes to terms with his innate proclivity for failure and defeat (Psalms 73:26). However, the story does not end here. As a Christian, failure is not the end of your story: “But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint” (Isaiah 40:31).
The point is not that we will not fail but that when we acknowledge our failures and rely on God for help (wait on the Lord), we receive a renewal of strength and a grace to face those failures. Therefore, when we find ourselves in a dark and broken place, that darkness becomes illuminated the moment we fix our gaze on Jesus. I guess this is the point Paul is trying to make when he declared that he’d rather boast in his infirmities and that he’d rather take pleasure in his reproaches (1 Corinthians 12:8-10). Of course, Paul is not saying that we should revel in our sins and defeats or that we should take the grace of God as a licence to sin. Instead, he seems to be saying that even when we encounter many defeats in our lives, we can still remain undefeated. He is saying that our failures can lead or redirect us to God. That is, our failures can teach us to be more dependent on God; our failures can humble us in a good way. In fact, it is not improbable that God uses our failures for our good (Romans 8:28).
Winston Churchill is right to have noted that “success is not final, failure is not fatal, it is the courage to continue that matters”. However, I would add that for a Christian, even failure is not final. Failure is not the end of our story (even though it may be a part of it). In the book of Proverbs, we are reminded that “the righteous man falls seven times and rises up again” (Proverbs 24:16). It sounds quite antithetical that a righteous man falls not just once but seven times. What makes a man righteous is not his infallibility but his ability to rise from the ashes of downfall and defeat. I would love to think that the story of the prodigal son is the story of a righteous man. His ability to run to his father after he was driven to his wits’ end is what qualifies him as a righteous man. Peter failed the Christ he proclaimed to love so dearly by denying Him publicly on three different occasions. No doubt, Peter, just like Judas, felt like a failure. But, unlike Judas, he sought for mercy from the same Christ he betrayed. Samson’s failure was catastrophic and shameful. But while in the cauldron of defeat, he sought the face of God and his last-minute victory turned out to be the most monumental of his entire life. Your failure can become the source of your testimony if you yield it to God in all honesty and genuine penitence.
Even the world is beginning to realise that by embracing one’s failures one might just be a step away from achieving victory. There is now a Museum of Failures dedicated to celebrating the failures of great inventors such as James Dyson, Walt Disney, Henry Ford, Steve Jobs, Albert Einstein and Thomas Edison– all of whom experienced more failures than victories in their lives. Again, the point is not that we should justify or valorize our failures but that we see them as part of our becoming, as part of what makes us God’s masterpiece (Ephesians 2:10). Sometimes we feel like life is over for us because of a failed relationship/marriage or failed career or because we fail to meet certain societal or spiritual expectations. But that is not true. Our broken hearts can turn out to be a part of God’s plan. In fact, God loves to step in in those moments when we think we have come to the end of the rope. While God is obviously invested in our victory, He is also interested in our failures. He does not look away when we fail; instead, like the father of the prodigal son, He receives us in open arms, provides strength in our weakness, and creates a message out of our mess.






