Nancy Drew was my idol for many years. I wanted blonde hair so I could dress up like her for Halloween on multiple occasions. Instead, I settled for Harriet the Spy, which was ridiculously awesome in 4th grade. I watch alot of murder mystery, cop-related shows.I also read alot of that genre of books. I have always been fascinated with them for some reason.
It’s no wonder all my ebook loans from Nashville Public Library are all James Patterson novels and my DVR is full of Sherlock Holmes, Castle and Grimm.
My mind works in a similar fashion when confronted with questions of failure. You see, I have to figure out why I failed, pinpointing the hinge moment where I took a misstep or allowed failure to enter as a possibility. I narrow it down, over think it to the point of crippling me from moving forward in that particular pursuit.
I see failure in my mind as God saying, “I didn’t gift you for this, try something else.” I am beginning to see that is not necessarily true, but rather a lie I have believed is truth for much of my 31+ years on this earth.
Failure is an accomplice to fear. It hides behind a door thinking it has weakened me enough so that I won’t kick it down to pursue it, to capture it, and to put it away for good on this charge in my life.