It happens to every one of us. Teachers as well as students. Cops as well as criminals. Bosses as well as executive assistants. Parents as well as kids. The diligent as well as the lazy. Gen Xers as well as millennials. Not even pastors are immune. Or corporation heads who earn seven-figure salaries. The same is true of well-meaning architects and hardworking builders and clear-thinking engineers.
Not to mention pro-ball players, politicians, and presidents.
What? Failure, that’s what. Blowing it. And it happens with remarkable regularity.
Let’s face it, success can be overrated. All of us crave it despite daily proof that our frequent destiny lies in quite the opposite direction. Weakness is the stuff of true greatness. Which brings me to a basic question that has been burning inside me for months: How come we’re so surprised when we see it in others and so devastated when it occurs in ourselves?
Yet when we were at our worst, God made His best move:
God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners. And since we have been made right in God’s sight by the blood of Christ, he will certainly save us from God’s condemnation. For since our friendship with God was restored by the death of his Son while we were still his enemies, we will certainly be saved through the life of his Son. So now we can rejoice in our wonderful new relationship with God because our Lord Jesus Christ has made us friends of God (Romans 5:8–11).
So, it’s probably time you ease off that someone who just blew it. Maybe that someone is yourself! If our perfect Lord is gracious enough to take our worst, our ugliest, our least successful, our unholiest of moments and flops, and forgive them, burying them in the depths of the sea, then it’s high time we give each other a break. C’mon, lighten up!
Devotional content taken from Good Morning, Lord ... Can We Talk? by Charles R. Swindoll. Copyright ©2018. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, a Division of Tyndale House Ministries. All rights reserved.