Successful Failure: The High-Stakes Relationship Between Your Shortcomings and Children
“I guess I’m not special because I failed.”
These were the words he said as we pulled into the driveway after his second crack at running an entire mile without stopping. My heart sank. And for good reason–that statement, though familiar, was crippling to hear from a voice much younger and sweeter than the one I’m used to hearing it from.
Somewhere along the way, my son inherited the same merit-based standard for self worth that many use on a regular basis. It’s shocking to consider how much of our society functions from a finely-tuned focus on failure. Think about it. How many of your most recent purchases and posts were conducted out of a desire to either fix or conceal a perceived deficiency in your life? We are conditioned to spend large amounts of time focused on self-diagnosed shortcomings, and fully depend on worldly products, services, and strategies to overcome them.
But as much as I’d like to blame society for cultivating that mindset into the heart and mind of my five year old, I can’t. He sat under the example of his father, and applied accordingly. Hence the sunken heart.
Before we got out of the truck, I shared with him scriptural proof that his conclusion about himself was undeniably false. He was reminded that he, according to Genesis 1:26-27, has been made in the image of God. I told him how special it is that the Lord made him to be able to love and be loved by God. Snakes and scorpions weren’t offered that tremendous gift. He heard that God’s gift to people specifically is salvation–the greatest display of love from one being to another. I said that God’s love for him was proven before, during, and after Jesus bled on that cross for his sins (Romans 5:8), and that his worth will never be based on what he can or cannot do, but by what’s been done for him by Jesus (Ephesians 2:4-10).
I did what any father would do–I was scrambling to instill as much truth in his heart as I possibly could. All the while, in the midst of my desperation, my Father reminded me that every true statement I offered to my son was also true of me. As a pastor, one of my strongest desires is to see others experience the fullness of God’s love, neglecting the fact that I too am a recipient of mercy, grace, and new life that I couldn’t afford on my own. As a parent, I am commissioned by God to visibly and verbally express my abundant life and worth in Christ, intentionally in the periphery of my children. You are too. A brief interaction with my boy showed me how necessary it is to never lose sight of my own identity when I fall short, lest he do the same heartbreaking thing.
Self-esteem that is exclusively based on personal merits is a house of cards that awaits a tragically destructive fate. How many stories high is yours? For each of us, our next demonstration of failure is coming, perhaps soon. When it does, what will you communicate to the hearts of those who find themselves within the jurisdiction of your influence? Will you teach them to discount their worth when their work isn’t satisfactory?
Our conduct in the face of failure matters, and matters big.
Parents, those little eyes–they watch. Those little ears–they listen. Those little mouths–they mimic. If our response to our own instances of failure is first filtered through the Good News of Jesus, more likely than not, theirs will be too. May we fervently demonstrate to our kids that our worth and works are not mutually exclusive.
And contrary to what we sometimes feel and express, we are special because He didn’t fail.