I'm a failure

Today, I messed up a lot. At work number two, I botched a couple labels. Actually, I botched six labels. I've worked here for now two months and I've only messed up on two labels before, and both of those were fixable. These, I had to throw away and start over. I spilled things. And then, not on accident, I used boxes I wasn't supposed to because they were easier. In Christianese, the first sins (since sin literally means "missing the mark") were accidents. The latter however, was a sin of commission--I did that on purpose.

Then I came home and I didn't have time to do the thing I really wanted to do. Instead, I worked on what I would say at High Point tonight, which actually never really came together. And instead of reading the Bible, I continued Three Cups of Tea (pardonable sin?). When it was my turn for discussion, I was just all over the place. Later, and to a much lesser degree, but still a disappointment, I did horribly at basketball.

You know what?

It was relieving.

In these last weeks, I have felt overwhelmed with the pressure to perform. And I readily admit that it's not just in these past 8 weeks that I've felt this way. Most of my life really is subconsciously wanting others to notice and to be proud. Or even if they don't, then wanting to excel in what I am doing so that I can say I did.

It feels good to fail. It feels good to remember how imperfect I am (not that I don't know this--simply that it's even more apparent than normal), and how much I need God's forgiveness through Jesus; how much I need His strength to move on when I mess up accidentally; how much I need His mercy and grace when I mess up on purpose; how much I need to have the right perspective--pleasing the Lord, and not men.

And I know that I may have listed several silly ways in which I've failed, but that's only because you didn't see how much more was going on in my heart. I mean, there were those moments of joy when I was dancing in the warehouse to "Brown Eyed Girl" and "Stray Cat Strut" (oldies stations...) without a watchful eye, but when the other moments came, how quickly my insides turned sour. It is shameful.

Ironically, I was talking about confession tonight at High Point. I got to discuss with a few of the students how protestant churches don't exactly have a good outlet for this very necessary practice. I missed out on saying that I think because this is so, we don't take sin as seriously as we ought. To quote a guy named Plantiga (pulled from John Ortberg's book, The Life You've Always Wanted) :

"The awareness of sin used to be our shadow. Christians hated sin, feared it, fled from it, grieved over it. Some of our grandparents agonized over their sins. A man who lost his temper might wonder whether he could still go to Holy Communion. A woman who for years envied her more attractive and intelligent sister might worry that this sin threatened her very salvation... In today's group confessionals it is harder to tell. The newer language of Zion fudges, 'Let us confess our problem with human relational adjustment dynamics, and especially our feebleness in networking.' Or, 'I'd just like to share that we just need to target holiness as a growth area.' Where sin is concerned, people just mumble now."

In other words, I hope that I am not just okay with being a failure and missing my chance to become closer to Christ. I'm not intending to merely confess failure and then continue it. But here arises another tension, and ha, another book quote. This comes from a conversation from God to Brennan Manning, while Brennan was in solitude (in the AMAZING book, The Importance of Being Foolish):

"Little brother, perhaps the most difficult thing for you to accept at this moment is your failure to have done with your life what you long to accomplish. This is the cross you wanted least of all, the cross you never expected, the cross you find hardest to bear. Somewhere you got the idea that I expected your life to be an untarnished success story, an unbroken upward spiral toward holiness. Don't you see that I am too realistic for that?

"I witnessed a Peter who three times claimed that he did not know me, a James who wanted power in return for service to the kingdom, a Philip who after three years together didn't know he was supposed to see the Father in me, and a score of disciples who were sure I was finished on Calvary. The New Testament is full of men who started out well and faltered. Yet I appeared to Peter, and James is not remembered for his ambition but for his sacrifice of self for the kingdom. Philip did see the Father in Christ when I showed the way. And the disciples who despaired had enough courage to recognize me in the stranger at their side who broke bread with them in the gathering darkness at the end of the road to Emmaus. The point is this: I expect more failure from you than you expect from yourself."

I guess what I'm saying is, I'm a failure, and I'm glad of it. God still picked me to be on His team, even though I'm the scrawniest and shortest player who goofs off too much. Somehow He knows the potential in me, and honestly, that's what I'm going to be depending on, what I will be striving for. What He sees matters most. Despite all the murderers, adulterers and thieves--He chose them for His team too. And those He chooses..