My Failure Was Not As Public As I Thought

Back in October, I sat down and made a list of the lessons I’ve learned in the past year. I’ve been sharing these lessons here on the blog. You can find links to them at the end of this post. I’ve wanted to write about a number of these things for months, but I refrained until I felt like I was far enough removed to write about them semi-objectively–and so that my tears wouldn’t short-circuit my keyboard.

Seriously, these are the lessons I learned while I was in a pit. I’m not in that pit any longer. God has been very good to me and my family this year and our future looks mighty good from where we’re standing. As always, thanks for reading and for the encouraging feedback. If you’re currently in a pit, I hope these posts encourage you.

In my last post, I wrote about why public failure was such a painful, but ultimately beneficial, experience for me.

It taught me to stop taking myself so seriously.

One of the great things about failure is how it can get you coming and going.

Here’s how it works:

1. I failed.
2. I assume that everyone in my circle of awareness saw me fail and spent almost as much time thinking (and talking) about it as I did.
3. Whenever I run into someone I know, I assume their first thought about me is “There’s Wade. He failed.”

There are a couple of flaws (at least) with this kind of thinking.

1. Most people are too busy dwelling on their own problems, shortcomings, and failures to spend more than a nanosecond thinking about mine (relatives and close friends excluded).
2. Believing that my failure was big enough to “make the news” is yet another symptom of my exaggerated sense of self-importance.

Occasionally, I have an encounter with someone that makes all of this painfully and–if you like awkward humor–amusingly clear.

Example #1: This occurs in Abilene at a conference at my alma mater.

Him: So how are things going in Tulsa?
Me: We moved to Austin two years ago.
Him: Oh wow! I hadn’t heard. What took you to Austin?
Me: We moved there to plant a church.
Him: How’s that going?
Thought Bubble Over My Head: You haven’t read my blog in a while have you?

Example #2: I run into a guy at a local coffee shop who attended a few of our early gatherings at Fulcrum.

Him: Hey Wade, how’s it going?
Me: Great. Long time no see.
Him: I know. I’ve been meaning to come back to church. Are you guys still meeting at the coffee house?
Me: Actually, we’re not meeting anywhere anymore. We shut it down six months ago.
Him: I’m sorry to hear that. I wish I hadn’t stopped coming.
Thought Bubble Over My Head: Me too.

Example #3: After speaking at a church, I’m visiting with someone I follow on Twitter. I know what’s going on in his life because of what he tweets.

Him: So, how are all things Fulcrum?
Me: What do you mean?
Him: How’s the church plant going?
Me: You haven’t heard? We pulled the plug eight months ago. I tweeted about it.
Him: I guess I didn’t see that tweet.
Thought Bubble Over My Head: There was more than one.

Each of these encounters (and there have been many others) amuse me because of their absurdity. Here I am walking around obsessing over how everyone is talking about my “public” failure and I keep running into people who haven’t heard the bad news.

It turns out my failure was not as public as I thought it was, which leads to another important lesson:

I need to stop taking myself so seriously.

Wait a minute, I think I see a pattern here.

Comments

  1. Having been where you are in different contexts but equivalent public/psychological failure, I’ve learned that my fascination with myself is what causes a majority of the anxiety over what other people think of me/what I’ve done/my failure. Cool thing is, others are just as self-absorbed as I am. Unless it specifically affects them, they tend to not see, appreciate, or remember the stuff I’ve done. They definitely don’t spend time on the big picture of how my failure connects with all the other aspects of reality.

    Great post!

  2. What I consider my biggest failures came before Facebook and Twitter, and yet somehow I think everyone knows. Shaking it off is easier said than done.

  3. Wade, great post. We all take ourselves a little too seriously, don’t we? I know I do! Thank you for your honest reflections. I pray that God is blessing you anew.

  4. Bryan Schackmann says:

    Great thoughts Wade. Your blog is a blessing to me. Hope all is well!

    • Bryan! Thanks for stopping by the blog. I have fond memories of you and In-N-Out burgers. But not always in that order. 🙂 I hope you’re doing well.

  5. Might the same “don’t take yourself too seriously” mantra apply to our successes too? I’ve thought before that I’ve redefined the world of ministry or missions or whatever as a result of something I’ve done. When I meet up with folks and expect them to know about it and celebrate with/for/over me, they know nothing of my earth shaking revelation. Either way, ease up. We ain’t the center of anyone’s story…even our own.

    Great post Wade…as always.

  6. Wade, there were times when I ran into problems while I was a superintendent of schools and I felt everyone in Hot Springs was aware of my mistakes. The following quote helped me remember that I was not as prominent as I thought I was. John McKay, USC football coach, when the Trojans were humiliated by Notre Dame one afternoon on national t.v. told his players after the game, “Just remember this, there are 100 million Chinese who don’t even know we played this game today.” That helps you keep perspective when you are fighting alligators while you are trying to drain the swamp.

    Merry Christmas to you and your family!

Speak Your Mind

*

Have you Subscribed via RSS yet? Don't miss a post!