You live on this earth long enough, and you will find that people fail you. They don’t intend to, most of them don’t want to, and, sadly, their are some that will destroy you if given the chance, but the ones that you put your trust in, no matter how much they love you and want God’s best for you are simply flesh. They will fail you.
I fail people I love all the time.
I fail my kids. I don’t want to, but I do. They ask me to play Barbies and I say, “In a minute, honey, I’m folding clothes.” That minute turns into hours, “Mom, play with us!” And I’m knee deep in paying bills at the moment so I say, “Not right now; mommy’s busy.” Before I know it the day has slipped away from me and Barbies never get played. Fail.
I fail my husband. He deserves so much better. He loves to pray together before we go to bed…after all, the family that prays together stays together, right? But, I’m tired, it’s been a long day, and before I know it it’s morning, he’s disappointed, and another night has gone by without prayer time. Epic fail.
I fail my friends. I don’t mean to. I get busy with life, with drama, with writing, with MY responsibilities and suddenly out of the blue I decide I need to talk to my friend that has disappeared out of my life for a month. So feeling hurt, I pick up the phone only to find out she’s been fighting for her marriage, her husband had an affair and she doesn’t think she can live like this anymore. Ugh. I failed her.
The list goes on, failure after failure builds up. I’m flesh and I’m sorry. Really really sorry. I swear I’ll never do it again…which only sets me up for greater failure and greater self-loathing. Because I will…and I have. And sadly, I’ve set them up to be failed. I mean, now when my kids ask me to play Barbies it’s with this attitude like, “Sure. It’ll never happen.” Which breaks my heart. When Brian says, “I’m jumping in the shower; I hope you’re awake when I get out.” He’s really saying, “I know you’ll be asleep; I’m used to it.” And when my friend needs someone, I won’t be the first one she calls. Rightfully so. You learn not to trust the people that let you down. I get that.
Perhaps the worst of it is this: I fail my Jesus. Daily. I don’t mean to. I don’t want to. But, I do. He desires to spend time with me, to be in relationship with me, to take on the many burdens that I carry on my shoulders like some kind of badge of courage, and I don’t let Him. The amazing thing about Christ is this: He still uses me, calls on me, longs for me, comforts me, encourages me. He never fails. Never. And He doesn’t give up on me because of my failures. He sees them, points my attention to them, to help me, to strengthen me, to remind me that I’m not the answer. He is.
I love my Jesus! He knows this. My Jesus loves me! He doesn’t lose sight of this. Even when the enemy threatens me with condemnation and doubt, Jesus whispers His love for me. It doesn’t make sense does it? That I could fail so miserably in so many areas with so many people and He still loves and chooses me? But He does. Every single time.
His words says that He waits for us to rise so that He can remind us of His mercy! Isn’t that beautiful? He waits for us to rise! That’s the Lord that loves us, our Father that anxiously waits with a smile on His timeless face through the watches of the night until we smack our lips, blink at the sunlight, stretch and face the day because He’s full of love for us, and His mercies are new every morning!
I am not a failure. Deep down, I know this. He tells me this daily, every morning when I threaten to wake up in a cloud of defeat. I fail, but I’m not a failure. You fail, but you’re not a failure. He knows it and chose you. “Love never fails.” Now how’s that for faithful!?