Yesterday was a long day. I woke up groggy eyed and fuzzy headed and rushed off to speak at an international church in Japan (KBF) in front of about 200 people. After the service, I talked to people and handed them prayer requests and contact information which made me late for the high school Sunday school class I was teaching. Man, those high schooler’s are a tough crowd but I hope something sunk in and that I didn't over do it.

Sometimes I love speaking in front of people. There's a flow that I can get into that comes from a sense of really communicating and interacting with everyone in the audience. But there are other times when it just doesn't happen. Yesterday, it didn't happen. Sure, people understood what I was saying, they were interested and listening but something wasn't flowing. I've been trying to figure out what this mysterious flow is. Why does it happen sometimes and not other times? I don't think it necessarily has to do with the audience- I mean, some times it does, but this is something beyond the audience. It has to do with me.

There's a weakness in me which I’m sure counselors sit around and discuss during seminars and classes. My weakness goes like this:

Let's say I'm doing something in front of people, like speaking. The first time I speak I have no expectations on myself, I don't know whether I'm good at this or not. After it's finished people tell me I did a wonderful job, that I'm a natural speaker, that I have such talent. The next time I speak I have to make sure I do an excellent job because I really like hearing people tell me I'm good. After a few more speaking engagements and a hundred more people affirming me I start having to try even harder to ensure I will keep doing well because, for some reason, I'm getting dependent on their affirmation.

But strangely enough, the harder I try the worse I get. The more important it is for me to hear or know I've done well the worse I will actually do. Isn't that strange? It's like the pressure of performance gets to my head and messes with me, dooming me to failure. And the failure it produces is like a downward spiral that spins tighter and faster as I get more desperate. I eventually reach the end of the spin and find myself being crushed to death in a massive black hole.

My black hole is named Failure because that's what I think I am when I reach it. It destroys me, it consumes me, it governs my life and my actions. Worst of all, I become convinced that the world can see it too. If this was where the story ended I would be a mental case. But thank God it's not. Actually, it's because of God that I'm not mental. The first and most destructive time I spiraled into my black hole I stayed there for a long time because I didn't know how to get out. Eventually, I discovered that only God could get me out. The foundations of my life were based on the wrong things- on human affirmation, which is as whimsical as dancing fairies. To be affirmed I had to perform, and to perform I had to dig up talent from the depths of my being. That talent was tainted, affected by sin and intrinsically flawed. Flawed talent fails, it's only a matter of when.

The only thing in the universe that doesn't fail and that wont fail at some point in the future, is God. If I could base the foundations of my life on him then I wouldn't be subject to whimsy and the constant pressure of having to do better. If I could let all human opinions fall away and only be concerned about God's unchanging opinion of me then perhaps I wouldn't be a failure. God says that his children are free, forgiven, redeemed, worth his love and the death of his son. He loves me intrinsically for who I am, not for what I can do. People get it all mixed up and love each other for actions or looks. When those fail, what's left? Only emptiness and despair.