Last week, I was given the opportunity to speak at my youth group. It was a great experience, but it was just one of those times where, whether or not it's true, you feel that you've failed. Have you ever had one of those times? I just knew, as I was giving the message and after I finished, that my heart and mind were not in the right place. And I could have done so much better. Regardless of what everyone else thought or could say, in my eyes, I felt I had failed.
That's always how it is when we mess something up, isn't it? People can try to convince us we did fine, that we didn't make that big of a mistake, that it wasn't noticeable, but we are our own worst critics. Though our convictions tend to waver so often in other areas of life, we are convinced, so stubbornly, of our failure. If you've ever failed (which, I'm pretty sure you have since you're human), or if you're half as hard on yourself as I am on myself, you know that those feelings of disappointment and even shame are heavy. I was disappointed.
It's funny how many of us desire humility as a trait but shrink back when humiliations are brought to the table to assist us with our goal. It was in that moment that I began to realize that sometimes, maybe it takes humiliations, shortcomings, letdowns, disappointments like this to bring us back to that place of humility again. There is sometimes no other way to bring us to such a powerful place of feeling so painfully and fearfully human. To be so well acquainted with yourself is a beautiful and terrifying thing.
I will tell you, though: I think I am falling in Love. In a world that largely bases our worth off of if we succeed or fail, it is moments like these - moments where I've let myself down - that make me so, inexpressibly grateful for a God who cherishes me and honors me and calls me good. He called me good, very good, actually, from the beginning; in Genesis, "God created male and female...and he said, 'This is very good.'" I read once that the meaning of the words "very good" is "supremely beautiful." Simply because I was created the way I was, He called me, He calls you, supremely beautiful.
And before you had the chance to do anything, before you had the chance to succeed or impress anyone, He called you good. Simply because you were made by the hand of a very, very good God. Not because you had done "good" things; you hadn't even been born yet. But He called you good. And nothing you have done or ever could do will add or take away from that.
Every other religion in the world bases our worth off of how much good you do; Christianity bases our worth on a infinitely, unfailingly good God. How free, how elated, how unburdened this should make us feel!
In His image you were created. A human. Beautifully and wonderfully created, systematically fallen and broken. He made you, a human, who by definition makes mistakes. After the fall, He never expected perfection from you. He knew you would not do life perfectly; He wants you anyways.
Isn't it crazy that a perfect God would want to use an imperfect person to accomplish His perfect plans? He uses our failures, he teaches us through them, he comes alongside us in them and gives us hope. That is such a beautiful truth. In our failures, we have infinite hope in Jesus because it doesn't depend on us. And not false hope, either; true hope.
I was watching the TV show Lost the other day with a friend, and we were watching the first or second season premiere, and one of the characters, Jack, is a doctor. His dad is a doctor, too. Jack has to deliver news to a patient about her chances of being fixed after the surgery he is about to conduct: and he tells her the truth, that her spine is crushed and she will likely be paralyzed for the rest of her life below the waste. Jack's father pulls him into the hallway and gives him this advice: "You might want to try handing out some hope every once in awhile."
Jack: "Her spine's crushed. I tell her that everything's going to be okay -- that's false hope, dad."
Jack's dad: "Maybe. Maybe, but it's still hope."
I don't know about you, but I have to wonder: what good is false hope? False hope is not hope at all. It is empty. It's like keeping a security system in your house that no longer works. Sure, there's a sense of security when you look at it because it's there; but it's a false sense of security in that it doesn't work; it is no security system at all! What good is false hope?
I am so grateful that the infinite hope Jesus offers us is true hope, not false hope.
In the middle of our failures, He does not try and sugarcoat it; He simply offers us the truth: that there is a Hope that never fails, regardless of circumstance or performance. There is Hope that brings us beyond ourselves. There is Hope.
And this hope that we can gain from relying on Jesus is so sweet, so steady, so redeeming and renewing and amazing. Where else in this world can we find it? Who is all-powerful and above all things, but still desires to use us? Who is completely perfect, but loves our failures still?
Who may fill this glorious human need but Jesus our Savior? Jesus, who was so well acquainted with human failure while here on earth but chose to die for us anyways. In our failures and shortcomings, looked at our human-ness and said, "I want you." And what more... "I love you."
---
Taylor Fohr
Taylor is a recent high school graduate headed to UCF. She loves running and being active, sitting in coffee shops but drinking tea, music, other cultures, good conversations, hard questions, and getting to know people. Taylor is a part of University Carillon United Methodist Church, where she works in the children's and youth ministries and also plays piano/keys in the worship band. Though she has not decided what she wants to study, she plans on spending her next few years doing whatever it is God wants her to (which, she hopes, includes lots of traveling).
Follow her on Twitter: Follow @misstaylorfohr
That's always how it is when we mess something up, isn't it? People can try to convince us we did fine, that we didn't make that big of a mistake, that it wasn't noticeable, but we are our own worst critics. Though our convictions tend to waver so often in other areas of life, we are convinced, so stubbornly, of our failure. If you've ever failed (which, I'm pretty sure you have since you're human), or if you're half as hard on yourself as I am on myself, you know that those feelings of disappointment and even shame are heavy. I was disappointed.
It's funny how many of us desire humility as a trait but shrink back when humiliations are brought to the table to assist us with our goal. It was in that moment that I began to realize that sometimes, maybe it takes humiliations, shortcomings, letdowns, disappointments like this to bring us back to that place of humility again. There is sometimes no other way to bring us to such a powerful place of feeling so painfully and fearfully human. To be so well acquainted with yourself is a beautiful and terrifying thing.
I will tell you, though: I think I am falling in Love. In a world that largely bases our worth off of if we succeed or fail, it is moments like these - moments where I've let myself down - that make me so, inexpressibly grateful for a God who cherishes me and honors me and calls me good. He called me good, very good, actually, from the beginning; in Genesis, "God created male and female...and he said, 'This is very good.'" I read once that the meaning of the words "very good" is "supremely beautiful." Simply because I was created the way I was, He called me, He calls you, supremely beautiful.
And before you had the chance to do anything, before you had the chance to succeed or impress anyone, He called you good. Simply because you were made by the hand of a very, very good God. Not because you had done "good" things; you hadn't even been born yet. But He called you good. And nothing you have done or ever could do will add or take away from that.
Every other religion in the world bases our worth off of how much good you do; Christianity bases our worth on a infinitely, unfailingly good God. How free, how elated, how unburdened this should make us feel!
In His image you were created. A human. Beautifully and wonderfully created, systematically fallen and broken. He made you, a human, who by definition makes mistakes. After the fall, He never expected perfection from you. He knew you would not do life perfectly; He wants you anyways.
Isn't it crazy that a perfect God would want to use an imperfect person to accomplish His perfect plans? He uses our failures, he teaches us through them, he comes alongside us in them and gives us hope. That is such a beautiful truth. In our failures, we have infinite hope in Jesus because it doesn't depend on us. And not false hope, either; true hope.
I was watching the TV show Lost the other day with a friend, and we were watching the first or second season premiere, and one of the characters, Jack, is a doctor. His dad is a doctor, too. Jack has to deliver news to a patient about her chances of being fixed after the surgery he is about to conduct: and he tells her the truth, that her spine is crushed and she will likely be paralyzed for the rest of her life below the waste. Jack's father pulls him into the hallway and gives him this advice: "You might want to try handing out some hope every once in awhile."
Jack: "Her spine's crushed. I tell her that everything's going to be okay -- that's false hope, dad."
Jack's dad: "Maybe. Maybe, but it's still hope."
I don't know about you, but I have to wonder: what good is false hope? False hope is not hope at all. It is empty. It's like keeping a security system in your house that no longer works. Sure, there's a sense of security when you look at it because it's there; but it's a false sense of security in that it doesn't work; it is no security system at all! What good is false hope?
I am so grateful that the infinite hope Jesus offers us is true hope, not false hope.
In the middle of our failures, He does not try and sugarcoat it; He simply offers us the truth: that there is a Hope that never fails, regardless of circumstance or performance. There is Hope that brings us beyond ourselves. There is Hope.
And this hope that we can gain from relying on Jesus is so sweet, so steady, so redeeming and renewing and amazing. Where else in this world can we find it? Who is all-powerful and above all things, but still desires to use us? Who is completely perfect, but loves our failures still?
Who may fill this glorious human need but Jesus our Savior? Jesus, who was so well acquainted with human failure while here on earth but chose to die for us anyways. In our failures and shortcomings, looked at our human-ness and said, "I want you." And what more... "I love you."
---
Taylor Fohr
Taylor is a recent high school graduate headed to UCF. She loves running and being active, sitting in coffee shops but drinking tea, music, other cultures, good conversations, hard questions, and getting to know people. Taylor is a part of University Carillon United Methodist Church, where she works in the children's and youth ministries and also plays piano/keys in the worship band. Though she has not decided what she wants to study, she plans on spending her next few years doing whatever it is God wants her to (which, she hopes, includes lots of traveling).
Follow her on Twitter: Follow @misstaylorfohr
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