Failing versus Falling Short

When hypothetical John walks into my office, he’s a frustrated and somewhat discouraged man. All the people he is close to—his wife, his children, even his employer—have told John his anger is a problem. He’s been making real efforts at trying to control himself, but then one day John lost it at work. His employer is now requiring him, as a condition to keep his job, to get professional help to finally deal with his anger.

Instead of exploring all the possible pathologies of John’s anger, in this series of posts I’m going to work a different angle. One thread I might work into the conversation with John is to ask him if he thinks he’s failing or falling short.

From a psychological and motivational perspective, making the distinction between failing and falling short is significant. In my counseling sessions, I often doodle ideas and concepts on a handheld dry erase board. Clients can then take a photo of it once we’re done, for retention and practice. In this case, I’ll begin by drawing a horizontal line down the middle of the board.

I’ll then ask John to think of a common example where we might use the word “fail.” John says, “Well, my alma mater’s football team’s goal and expectation is to win the national championship. We get to the championship game but then lose 27-24. That would be a fail.” On my white board, at the top of the left side, I write the word, “FAIL.”

But then I ask the question, “In the Christian life is there ever a point at which, after having sinned, God says to one of His own children, ‘That’s it! No more opportunities. I’m done with you!’?” John replies, “I can’t think of a Scripture passage where God says that to his own children.”

I then say, “There is an interesting comment Jesus says to Peter, ‘Satan has asked to sift each of you like wheat. But I have pleaded in prayer for you, Simon, that your faith should not fail. So when you have repented and turned to me again, strengthen your brothers’” (Luke 22:31-32, NLT). We know Peter did go on to deny Jesus and sinned in doing so. But we know too that Peter then turned around and got back up.

Rather than failing, we say that Peter fell short of God’s moral perfection just as all people do every day (Romans 3:23). But Peter’s faith did not fail. Across the board, on the upper right side, I write the words, “FALL SHORT.” I then ask John to give me his impression of how the concepts of FAIL versus FALL SHORT land on him. “I’d say falling short feels a lot more hopeful to me than failing,” John replied. Indeed.

I say to John, “If the scoreboard reads 27-24, that’s the score. But now look at the clock. What does it say?” John says, “It’s all zeros. Game over.” I take my board and on the left side, under the word “FAIL” I now write the word, “FINAL.” I ask John, “From what you know of the Bible and the Christian life, is there ever time for a comeback?” John says, “I’m counting on it!”

On the right side of the board, under the words, “FALL SHORT” I write the word, “RECOVERY.” Honest, humble, maturing Christians readily admit they are always in a state of recovery because they know in detailed ways how and where they’re falling short of God’s perfect moral character. At the same time, in the most hopeful and grateful way, Christians positively approach each day as a day of recovery because we claim Christ as our perfect moral substitute (Philippians 3:9).

Back on the left-hand column I now ask John, “If you failed, and that’s the final verdict, and you keep failing over and over again, what are you likely to think of yourself?” John says, “I suppose that makes me a failure.” I now write the word “FAILURE” under the word “FINAL.” And then I ask, “John, if you’re a Christian, does God ever think of you as, or ever say to you, ‘You’re nothing but a failure’?” John says, “Well no, I guess not. But sometimes I feel like one.”

I say to John, “I have some good news for you: Christ doesn’t think of or call you a failure. Ever. He’s adopted you into His family and you’re His child. You might be weak, but you can grow stronger. Your place and selfhood are secure with Him. His passion for you, the intensity of His love for you manifested on the cross, is just as strong and committed to you today as it was back on the day He bled and died for you.” I now write the word, “CHILD” on the right column under the word “RECOVERY.”

I discuss with John one significance of God calling us his children is that children don’t get it right the first time. Or the second. Or who knows when. We’re not shocked when children fall short, and with God as our Father we will always be his children. This is yet another reason for the incarnation of God the Son: Jesus, the perfect son of God, did what no Christ-follower could do. Where we fall short, he kept and fulfilled the Law perfectly. He passed the test for us without any mistakes.

I look at John one more time and ask, “If you’ve failed, and that’s the final score, and now you’re nothing but a failure, how does that make you feel?” John says, “Terrible! Like a loser.” Then I ask, “So as you watch your team walking off that field and you’re all losers, is your head up or down?” “Down,” says John. I nod, and now under the word “FAILURE” I add the word “SHAME.”

I comment, “As the team is entering the stadium tunnel after the game is over, what if the coach is standing there yelling at his players as they walk by, ‘Shame on you for not winning! Shame on you! You lost last year and now you’ve lost again! If you had only tried harder and executed like I told you to! You guys are a bunch of losers!”? John says, “I hope that’s not the way our coach would respond.” In fact, no sensible coach would say that. And that is certainly not motivating by Gospel grace.

“John, what if God already knew you were going to come up short? And what if He already made provision for it? Let me remind and encourage you that God Himself in Jesus took your shame on Himself at the cross. And through the resurrection of His Son secured His honor which He’s bestowed on you as a gift to a child.” I now write the word, “HONOR” under the word, “CHILD.”

There’s no more striving to prove yourself an honorable person—to yourself or to others. You don’t need to signal to other people through material goods or positional rank or relational connections that you’ve arrived. Others might give you honor for those things, but the only honor God is impressed with is His own (John 5:44, NKJV). And He gifts it to His children!

At this point in my conversation with John, my white board looks like this:

FAIL | FALL SHORT

FINAL | RECOVERY

FAILURE | CHILD

SHAME | HONOR

There’s more to this conversation that I’ll continue next time. For now, I’ll just say that all of this is yet another way of preaching the Gospel to oneself.  

PS: I’m finishing this up on Sunday evening, May 31^st, and for a break I looked at the ESPN app on my phone. Under “Top Headlines” the first line reads, “SGA calls MVP year a failure after OKC falls short.”