Flexing Failure
I need to flex my failure muscles, to take risks and be willing to fall flat. I need to love myself for making mistakes.
I need to flex my failure muscles, to take risks and be willing to fall flat. I need to love myself for making mistakes.
We are KILLING it! Let’s move this giant dresser! I’M READY!!! Ok 1…2…3! …wait this is so heavy…I need two seconds…(#horrificallyembarrassed).
But if humans alter the meaning of nature itself, by which we understand God’s power and faithfulness, we may end up losing touch with God in an essential way.
It is manifestly astonishing, in the waning days of the vampire craze in which we find ourselves, that there are still vampirical depths yet to be plumbed.
Five miles. I’m finally loosening up and integrating the constant blare of spectators into my normal state of existence. I stay calm and don’t mind people passing me.
I suppose it was not until I drove it home, filled it with water and plant food, and plugged it in that I realized how far in over my head I truly was.
A car and a job, all in a couple of days. Seven o’clock—time to get up. Laura came bounding into the room. And that was when I found out I was going to be a father.
For yours truly, however, mid-April means “I-only-have-three-days-of-classes-left-and-HOW-many-papers-are-due-on-Friday?”
It was early Saturday evening, and I’d slipped in the door of my local Billa—short for Billiger Laden, or Cheap Shop—ten minutes before closing.
But, five years later, it’s enough. It’s enough for me get over my insecurities and care about someone. Someones. The someones I grew up with.