The Bible narrative is full of stories that prove this point: failures can yield the most valuable lessons we learn in life. Don’t be afraid of failures. Rather, be afraid of learning nothing from them.
When my truck is in the camper mode for traveling with the Good News team, the truck cap has to be stored somewhere. It is generally known that ability in art and engineering rarely come in the same person, but this has never deterred me from trying my hand at building things never conceived of, even by the experts at Home Depot.
I took a good look at the limited space in my garage and concluded I could suspend the cap on two-by-fours held with a system of cables and pulleys to the ceiling rafters. When completed, it was something to behold. Unfortunately, it was not something to be used. I had not fully comprehended the gravity of the situation. Gravity, as in the law of gravity. Although a remarkable contraption, it came short in only one point—the thing didn’t work! After three heroic tries with various family members setting personal bests in the clean-and-jerk department, I caved in and wrote off two days of work and any pride I had left in constructing the gizmo.
Instead, my dear wife quietly suggested a simple table-like framework over the kids’ bikes. Simple. Cheap. Functional. Hernia-free. A one-hour job, even for me. Sigh.
But the exercise in non-functional engineering was not a complete waste of time. It set me to thinking about the distinct role of failure and the keys to success in the spiritual realm. Here were some of the bits salvaged from my Rube Goldberg invention:
1. How thankful I am that there is never any weakness in the forces that hold us from above. My “skyhooks” yielded to the weight placed on them, but the One who upholds us and “is able to keep us from falling” (Jude 24) invites us to cast all on Him. He, after all, hung the worlds in place.
2. How thankful I was to have others willing to share the burden with me. Even though they had their doubts about the project, I never doubted my family’s commitment to help me in my need. I was reminded of the scene in Exodus 17. Moses was doing some mighty lifting—his people were under a deadly attack from Amalek, and inexperienced Joshua was leading Israel in battle. “But,” we read, “Moses’ hands were heavy; and they took a stone, and put it under him, and he sat thereon; and Aaron and Hur stayed up his hands, the one on the one side, and the other on the other side; and his hands were steady until the going down of the sun” (v. 12). How much we owe to those, often at a distance from us, who intercede on our behalf like Moses.
However, we also owe a debt of gratitude to those, who like Aaron and Hur, encourage all who grow faint under the heavy burdens of living down here. The word to all such, “Wherefore lift up the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees” (Heb. 12:12), is not given specifically in the context of interceders, but an exhortation to stand by those who are passing through a serious time of life training and need to be encouraged not to give up under the strain (v. 11).
3. I’m thankful that little, if anything, is lost to the child of God, even in our mistakes. Not only the two-by-fours and hardware, but the lessons learned can all be used in other, often unexpected, ways. So it is in life. God allows us to fail; but when we fail, He doesn’t (Zeph. 3:5). And for God’s people, failure is not the end of the story. Often it is the beginning of something far better.