Failure At 32

What have I gotten myself into? A million thoughts raced through my mind as I sat in my tent on the first day of training camp. Rain tapped the outside of my tent as I hugged my knees to my chest. This was really happening. I was finally here.

The first few days of training camp felt like I was in a haze. Everything bled into each other. The line between day and night blurred into nothing. Time didn’t mean anything anymore. Every teaching was crammed into our brains until we felt like overstuffed sausage casings. But the excitement kept us going.

And then it came, Monday morning. It was the day of the fitness hike. We needed to hike 1.35 miles in 27 minutes with 40 something pound packs strapped to our backs. If we didn’t pass, then we may not launch to begin ministry. My stomach shot up to my throat.

As we began to hike, the packs dug into our hips, clinging from our shoulders. The breath in our lungs scratched its way out with each new step. This was it, the final test. The thought of failure loomed over my head. I had to do this. There was no other option.

The first hill hit me hard. But I trekked up the asphalt, determined that I was going to make it. But then came the second hill, and then the third. This is impossible. There’s no way I can do this. This is never going to end. 

As I ran down to the finish line, I glanced at my watch. My stomach fell to the ground. 32 minutes. At first, nothing was mentioned about my shortcoming. We went on through our day, the silence deafening my ears. 

“I need to see a few of you before lunch.” My squad mentor announced after our morning session. I walked to the front of the room with the four others. My heart felt as though it could crack my ribs. “You guys will have to re-do the fitness hike on Sunday.” My breath stopped in my throat. “You will have 30 minutes instead of 27.” 

As we walked down to lunch, the tears began to sting my eyes. Maybe this was God’s way of telling me that I did not belong there. The humiliation and frustration of my failure boiled in my chest. If I can’t complete the hike again, they might send me home. What will everyone think? What do my squadmates think?

The sun soon faded into the night. We finished our sessions for the day. The heaviness of the hike pulled on my body. “Hey everyone!” Before I could second guess myself, everyone looked towards me. “If you didn’t know, some of us didn’t finish the hike in time. We have to re-hike on Sunday. This brought up a lot of insecurities in myself, and doubt on whether I should even be here. I know that if I’m feeling this, there’s probably someone else who is, too. I was wondering if we could pray.” Without hesitation, everyone stood to their feet and walked towards me.

“If there’s anyone else who is also feeling this way, please step forward so we can pray for you, too”. Someone said. A few others stepped forward in bravery. As my squad began to pray, the tears spilled from my eyes. They saw my failure, my embarrassment. But they didn’t care. They prayed for me anyways.

The next morning, my chest felt lighter. The weight of the previous day didn’t strap me down. I could breathe without feeling stuck. I had been released. When we face moments of failure, or when we find ourselves coming up short, we can often bask in our insecurities. But can we be bold enough to lay it down before the Lord, and ask for prayer from those around us?

Stay tuned for part 2!