failure.

I wrote this not long ago, but didn't post it. But now I am.

Lately, I’ve been thinking, which is not unusual for me, as I tend to overanalyze just about everything that happens, but here's where this particular train of thought started.

Two days ago I was playing sand volleyball at a barbecue, and I was so worried that I would be terrible or that I would embarrass myself or my team with my less than enviable volleyball skills (just ask my high school coach, I wasn't very good). That got me thinking. Why do I always feel such pressure to succeed? Was this self-imposed or did someone do this to me?

My conclusion is that it was self-imposed; and although it may have stemmed from elsewhere, I am definitely the one who has perpetuated it. I'm so scared of failure that I rarely even try. You can ask just about anyone that knows me well, and they can testify to this fact. Why don't I play more intramural sports? Because I might fail. Why don't I apply for different scholarships or programs or jobs? Because I might not get them. Why don't I write more in my blog or for anywhere else? Because it might be stupid and worthless.

Somewhere along in my life, I picked up the notion that I was supposed to be seen a certain way at all times. I think part of it stemmed from that "you must be a godly example" mentality that I grew up with. And, indeed, I must be. It’s my responsibility as a Christian. But instead of me being an example for God, I was really just being an example for myself. I took pride in my Christian life. And the truth is that I still do constantly. It’s not just what you do, it's why you do it.

I’m not saying that I wish that I would have just gone off my narrow path and done all the sinning I could while I could claim that I was young and silly and trying to find myself (although some days I feel like that); but, rather, I found that my unwillingness to have others see my faults has made me less accessible. I’ve made myself less of an influence because of it. No one wants to talk to someone who they feel they can’t relate to. And they're right in some ways, I can't relate to all of they’re experiences, but in many ways I can.

I'm human. I sin. I struggle with all of the things that collegians struggle with in their lives when they try to see how far is too far. I thought that by being the person who didn't fail, I could bring people to me who wanted to be like me, but instead all I did was make people feel like I was not on their level. I definitely don't have all the answers, but I wish in the past that I had shown others that I had the same questions and that I had even explored the possibilities.

At church we’ve been talking about the characteristics of spiritually influential people, and I have always wanted to be one. One of the characteristics is transparency. Let them see that you’ve failed, but that you’re forgiven and that you’re not letting your failure keep you from moving forward and growing. That will show them that God can love people just like them, people that fail, people that make mistakes constantly, people that could never live up to His expectations. Let’s face it. None of us meet those expectations, and none of us can ever meet those expectations. We’re all in the same sinking ship until God comes along to rescue us.

But instead of showing people how much God's love means to me and how much it has changed my life, I showed them how much my love for myself and my reputation means to me. And, ironically, that may be my greatest failure so far.