In the Face of Failure

I picked up a book this week called, "The Search for Significance" by Robert McGee, on oldie but goodie which talks about the traps we all face in building our sense of self-worth. It seemed like an appropriate place to start after I received the news this week.

As of Monday, I was officially let go from my job, and I am now unemployed.

Without going into all of the details, I will say that this news came as quite a shock and disappointment. But, as I let myself be honest about the last 120 days at my new job, I was also surprised at the relief I felt. I have come to accept that God has something much better for me -- He wouldn't have brought me this far to leave me hanging. But I must say that it was pretty confusing after all that I've been through this past year, the hope of being able to finally settle into a new career, and the fact that I have never been let go from a job before. 

Situations like this really bring to light the messages you believe to be true about your identity and self-worth. When I allowed myself to be honest, I realized that I have a deep-seated belief that at the core of my being, "I am a hard worker." And therefore, because I pride myself in being a hard worker, "I am successful" - I can do anything I set out to accomplish... right? So what happens when you are faced with the reality that you in fact did not succeed, but actually failed (or failed to meet someone else's expectations of you)? What will you believe about yourself? Will you let that experience define who you are? Will you let someone else's opinion of you define who you are?

I have always been praised for what I do and my successes. Yet sometimes I forget that I am a limited being - I am not God. I am not perfect. I am not superhuman. And I shouldn't be shocked when I cannot be all things to all people nor meet every person's expectations of me. 

Will I run from failure or fight compulsively to achieve at the expense of myself and others in order to avoid failure?

I think that I am finally coming to a place in my Christian walk where I am coming to see that "I am not what I do." And I don't have to avoid failure by not taking risks or feel the need to justify all of my mistakes to make myself look better. I may not be perfect. But I am not a failure.

I was not willing to make my work my life (which is what it would have taken to succeed in this role) so I believe that God was really releasing me from this job and has better for me.

Sometimes you don't know what is in your heart, until it has been tested. And I would say that in the midst of disappointing circumstances, I am encouraged that my faith has endured, my identity is secure, and God's promises still remain true.

Sometimes failing is our greatest teacher. It brings us to our knees and reminds us that He is God and we are not. So in the face of failure, "I lift my eyes to the hills, for where comes my help? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth" (Psalm 121).