One of the teachings from Richard Rohr that has stayed with me over the years is the fact that, after the age of thirty, we learn a lot more from our failures than we do from our successes. I cannot count the number of times that I’ve shared this with friends, colleagues, and people who have met with me for spiritual guidance.
It’s a truth that certainly isn’t easy to live into—as I’m learning myself right now. As I type this—before dawn on a morning in early October—there are still a dozen days left for Henry and I to sign up more people for our trip to Israel this coming January…and we still need six more people to make a commitment for there to be enough people for the trip to happen. At this point, that does not feel possible. I hate putting those words out there—making it more real, in a sense—but I’m also recognizing that I don’t know where else I would look to find people. We have done what we can to share our excitement and encourage others to join us but, for whatever reasons, this trip just has not filled.
Thus I find myself in a kind of limbo—waiting for a few more days to pass, just in case people who have said no might change their minds, or people who have one of our brochures sitting on their dining room table, where they look at it with longing while eating dinner each night, might decide that they can indeed afford the time and money to make their pilgrimage to the Holy Land.
At this point, whatever lessons God might have for us to learn in this probable failure are not yet apparent to me. I’ve pondered some possibilities, ranging from us not spending enough time on the front end, praying for more clarity about whether God really wanted us to undertake this project, to some unknown future calamity in the Holy Land that would have cancelled the trip at the last minute (which is akin to what happened the first time we tried to go—as pilgrims, not leaders—a handful of years ago).
And so I wait. I wait to see if miracles are in the offing. I wait to see if the potential of failure is sufficient for me to learn some lesson, or whether I need instead to let go, move on to other projects (of which there are many!), and await the clarity of failure’s lessons, which will probably come with a bit of time, distance, and perspective.
What is your relationship with failure? Do you seek its lessons—or have you found that its lessons find you, whether you wish it or not? Do you see God’s hand at work in the failures you’ve experienced in your life?
If you want to be part of creating that miracle for us, feel free to learn more about joining us in the Holy Land this coming January: http://biblical-journeys.com/shirin-mcarthur-and-henry-hoffman-holy-land-tour/
It is easy to deflect the learning for myself that comes in this reading and want to offer marketing advice….have you posted flyers at both St. Philips and St. Paul’s? Both huge “passionate about learning” congregations.
For me, I have to confess the difference in identifying specific times I have failed….and the learning there…or the feeling of “being” a failure…failing at being who I dream of being, behaving as I could/should behave, etc. Will work at kneeding that dough and putting it to bake.
Thank you for the marketing advice…and I pray that God will allow you to dwell in your essential belovedness as you ponder possible lessons in failure….
Peace
Shirin
For some reason this post is calling to me this morning. I feel I need to add the learnings I have gotten from my husband… Someone who is not a person who follows any particular religious practice. He has taught me about not accepting no for an answer. His first wife stood him up three times for dates, and rather than accepting the failure and trying to learn from it, he just kept going back… And they had a very happy marriage. When the company he wanted to work for turned him down twice, he went back with a different application in a different department and had a very successful career with that company. I don’t really think I need to say anything more, other than to challenge our sometimes willingness to step back and look for a lesson when in fact, if it’s something we really really want to have happen, we could push through the “failure“ and perhaps make it happen.
Thank you again, Barbara. In this case, I think it’s less about pushing through (though we will discern whether to offer this trip another year) than about listening for what God wants me to be doing in this time. I’ll be saying more about that in my post next week…. Perseverance is warranted in many situations…and so is discernment.
I’m glad that this post has spoken so strongly to you!
Peace,
Shirin