Wednesday, November 16, 2005 · no responses · comments closed

Every week, I eat breakfast with Jeff, Chris, and William — we are, to use John Eldredge’s term, a “band of brothers.” Our conversations range over a wide variety of topics, from movies to marriage and politics to prophecy. However, we always make it a point to talk about our goals, and we have worked our way through some books to help us be more purposeful and focused.

Jeff’s been reading Chris Howard’s Turning Passions into Profits, and he told us about Howard’s idea of having goals you move toward (positive goals) and those you move away from (anti-goals). As an example, Howard offers Oprah Winfrey. Early in her career, she identifed the goal of being like Barbara Walters. And look at what she’s achieved. She had a clear picture of who and what she wanted to be like, and she consistently moved toward, and eventually beyond, that goal. In contrast, Oprah is said to have stated that her physical goal was to not have a big butt — an anti-goal. Oprah’s struggle with her weight has been an issue for most of her twenty years as a talk show host. Howard would say it’s no surprise she hasn’t had consistent success with her weight: how do you not achieve something?

Stated like this, it seems pretty obvious that negative goals are problematic. How many parents have identified their goal as “to not be like my mother or father”? People say, “I just want to not be broke.” I suspect that a significant number of my students approach their classes that way: “I just want to not fail.” How likely is it that such thinking will produce an A or a B? It seems more likely that these students will end up in the C or D range. Yet, when I sometimes ask students to grade their own work, a number of them will say, “I believe I deserve an A, because what student would turn in work that they believed was less than excellent?” Their stated goal points them in one direction, but their responses and expectations point them in another — and they don’t achieve the A.

As we talked this morning at breakfast, I realized that one of my biggest goals is “to not fail.” I’m incredibly cautious. Some of that comes from an analytical personality. I look at all sides, consider all possibilities, and then make a decision. But my cautiousness is more than just personality. Much of it is fear. I’ve not yet determined the root of this, but I’ve known for a long time that I keep back from many things because I am afraid I might fail. The most life-altering example was in my choice of graduate work. I chose a traditional graduate program in English rather than an MFA in creative writing because I wasn’t sure I could pull it off. I knew I had the skills and ability to successfully finish the academic track. I desperately wanted to be a writer, had received positive feedback in a number of creative writing courses, but when it came down to it, the fear of failure kept me from pursuing my heart’s desire.

I have moved past the regret of that decision, but I’m not past the goal that led me to it. At least not yet — but I am getting there.

I suspect this struggle with the fear of failure is one reason I have been partial to Michele Wagner’s “Free to Fail” since I first heard it in 1991:

Wagner’s lyrics highlight two issues: what will others think of me if I don’t succeed? and do I trust God to get me through this? For me, these two questions really come down to one: “Do I really believe God and what He says?”

If I believe God’s Word about myself and His promises to me, I won’t be nearly so concerned with what people think. And if I believe God’s Word about His faithfulness and love, I won’t question His ability and desire to protect me and see me through.

So it’s really about faith. Is my faith in my ability to pull it off, or in God’s call and empowerment and anointing at work in me?

No one really likes to fail, I suppose. But how many of us give ourselves permission to fail? Am I free to fail? Can I say, “I gave it my best” and be content, even if it didn’t work out like I hoped? George Barna says that success for the Christian is obedience to God’s direction, not a particular achievement. I know that intellectually, but it’s hard to believe in my heart. And I know I’m not alone in this struggle. Human nature is very results oriented (that’s why checklist legalism is such a powerful force in religion); to separate success from results is a challenge indeed. If I take Barna’s idea to heart, than I can free myself to fail, because obedience becomes my benchmark for success, not a particular outcome.