CROOKED NOTES: Forty-Nine Lashes of Failure

God forbid if I ever came home from the corner Bodega and presented my mother the wrong item or incorrect amount of change. She would slap me repeatedly over the head or face. I learned early on to make absolutely sure I was returning home with exact change and the specified item(s) requested. No room for mistakes. She had no patience for such errors; only swift and immediate retribution. I guess this was her way of trying to teach me to get things right the first time.

The same reaction can be said of such childhood experiences as learning to tie ones shoelaces. She would run out of patience rather quickly and beat me with the very shoe I was learning to tie knots with. By the grace of God I learned to tie those damn sneakers quickly! Wish the same could be said about learning my multiplication tables. I have always been weak in Math. It has never come easy to me. I dreaded numbers and the consequences they yielded. I still do. I thank God for calculators.

I will never forget the time my mother stood over me with belt in hand and asked me: "What is seven times seven?" I didn't know the answer but like any child hoping for the right answer to come in a guess, I replied: "Forty-one" with a shudder. Her green eyes went dark and as she raised her hand over her head she let the belt crash down on me repeatedly as she bellowed with every blow: "forty-nine! forty-nine! forty-nine!..." each lash erupting on my flesh and forever cementing into my consciousness the right answer "Forty-Nine!"; not to mention the unhealthy fear of the consequences of failure.

All is forgiven. It truly is. I see now what was at work in the midst of that hellish and abusive upbringing. She meant well. She wanted me to grow up to be smart and to hold my own in the classroom. She wanted what was best for me and although, yes, she went about it the wrong way and instead of teaching me to be fearless in the face of uncertainty and difficulty, she instilled in me this present day fear and aversion of not getting it right. Her harsh treatment of my failures sent me the wrong message. A message I need to work hard to overcome and correct today.

For most of my life I was an "all or nothing" kind of guy. All or nothing because I could not allow myself the grace to fail. I say grace because I see now that without grace in the midst of failure and wrong-doing, condemnation and hopelessness will undoubtedly set in and enslave you. At least, this was my heart-wrenching experience which kept God's grace at bay and my need to perform and please others always in high demand. A no-win situation, which only led me to deeper and stronger levels of self-hatred and remorse.Thankfully those days are behind me now. Distant memories tinged in dark silhouettes of pain but no longer able to hold me captive in its stifling and iron-grip grasp.

My recent failure at work and my Director's estimation that I was not "thorough enough" have been a thorn in my mind. I have revisited the incident numerous times and gone through the motions of what I could have done to reach the desired result but each and every time I have come to the right conclusion that I am human, very much so, and therefore prone to making mistakes. With that reality before me I have learned each and every time, when the memories and self-analysis of my error begin to invade and eat away at my peace of mind, to do what I know to be the right thing. I bring my burden of failure and leave it at the feet of Jesus. At his feet I am met with a holy exchange; my failure for His grace. The river of fire that surrounds His throne overflows with grace and mercy. I have learned not to fear the flames but to draw near and jump in. I burn but am not consumed. Only my lack, only those things which keep me weighed down are eaten away by the flames. Each and every time I rise up again stronger, more confident, a step closer to freedom.

All this to say, I struggle like every one else around me, yet have tapped into what sets me free and keeps me rising up like the noonday sun. He covers and anoints me to go forward, not in my own strength but in the knowledge that I serve a God-Man who unlike my human counterparts is not phased one bit by my inability and failures but even in my weaknesses and lack He finds me desirable and worthy of love. True, it might come to the undesirable conclusion that like Mom, my Superiors at work may one day lose their patience and sent out the word; "You're fired!" along with the walk of shame as I am escorted out of the building (...Why do they escort you out? What could I possibly want to take with me but my dignity intact as I walk out the front door?). At least, I can breathe deeply and take in the knowledge that God will work it all out for my good since I have been called according to His (not mine and no one else) purposes.

Just do me the favor and point me to this blog if and when that day arrives because not only am I not perfect but I tend to forget all His benefits and need to be lovingly reminded.