by Beth Duewel

“Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you.” Psalm 143: 8.

Everyone gets to fail. Only, I call my failures faux pas. I feel pretty good that this sounds like a fancy French dessert rather than the opposite of success. But a million of us bright stars know, there’s just no fancy way to swallow failure.

I learned a solid lesson about failure in middle school when I attended a “Science Guy” assembly. Sitting in the front row, I held my breath. And who volunteers for some kind of crazy science experiment in front of 250 of their peers? No. One. Somehow though, I was welcomed onto the stage and invited to place my hand on a huge aluminum mushroom. Then, the science guy waved some type of wonky-wand. But this was no fairy tale. 

And for someone who spent a million intentional moments flying under the radar, I can tell you, when your hair reacts to 1,000 volts of static cling—people notice. Your hair definitely notices. Although 2,000 volts of static cling could kill you, I’m proof that a good amount of static can surge through you, and you will not die. 

Not the hero

My bad-hair-point here? I discovered I’m not supposed to be the hero of my own story. God is.

God uses faith (and sometimes failure) to enrich our story, and what remains is hope and a well lived point. Because faith is not sure footing, we know. It’s not even a well-worn path. It’s sandstone, slippery and strange sometimes. Exactly, what I love about Moses’ story. We see that when Moses is introduced to the sight of God, he doesn’t fully understand what faith can do or what holy ground feels like under your feet. Barefooted, he stammers, missteps. He recites a list that extends from Exodus chapter 3 to Exodus chapter 4. He tells God he might fail because he’s not eloquent enough, smart enough, or perfect enough. But that’s kind of the point, right? 

I mean, who of us recognizes the need of an unshakable Savior without shaky ground beneath our feet? This is the tension and conflict. The story. The Rescue. The Redemption. 

“Who am I,” Moses asked (Exodus 3:11). 

“I will be with you,” God replied (Exodus 3:12). 

Even when we follow the life of Moses, though, there is a sense he never fully arrived…not into the Promised Land, not on foot, anyway. His journey was more about discovering a bigger faith and the proof of what failure can accomplish in the middle of it. Moses shows us, I think, is that middles are as important as beginnings and endings.

Learn to rest

And what happens in a middle place of trust is that we actually learn to rest. We understand that momfails, perceived fails, and bad hair days are all a part of the process of becoming more dependent on God’s power to do the work. Faith doesn’t mean we try harder—but with God’s help—we simply find the strength and courage to try again. 

Sometimes middle ground is shaky ground is uncertain ground is holy ground. Meaning, we are all in process of becoming who God’s transforming us to be. 

That’s what I love about Psalm 143:8: “Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you.” What a great reminder, because God’s love never-ever fails! But also, the word “morning” as it’s used here tells me God’s love is new and transforming, unfailing, repeating itself over and over for forever. Sure, we will fail, but if we put our trust in God, we will have new life and a fresh start. Because…

“Who am I?” We ask.   

“I will be with you,” God replies. 

Father, help us rely more on Your unfailing love. Today. Amen. 

Meet Beth…