Owning Our Failures

Yesterday was a wonderful Lord’s Day. I was in a joyful mood as we made our way home from a full day of church to enjoy the remaining daylight and unseasonably cool temperatures. I resisted the urge to take care of a few to-do items around the house and instead opted for a family basketball game in the driveway. Then it happened.

As the ball was going out of bounds, my oldest son did what all basketball players learn to do – he threw the ball into the opposing player in order to maintain possession of the ball. The only problem was that the opposing player was my youngest son, and rather than hit him on the leg or thigh, the basketball caught him right in the solar plexus.

My youngest son immediately reacted with his mouth wide open while dancing around in a frenzied but completely silent manner. This reaction had been witnessed before. I went over to him and grabbed him by both arms to try to get him to breathe and settle down. As I pulled on him I felt what I thought was him pulling away from me. In a moment of frustration, I let him go. My youngest son fell backward out of my hands and landed flat on his back, limp. What I had perceived as him pulling against me was in fact my son passing out.

My youngest son, in the moment when he could not stand on his own and most needed someone to hold him up, was dropped by his own father. So much for that Father of the Year award.

What a series of failures on my part. I rushed to judgement assuming my youngest son was madder at his brother and the situation than he was hurt. Then when the situation needed the mature father to remain calm and sort through the situation, I reacted immaturely based on emotions and selfish frustration.

Then came the worst part. Rather than immediately scooping him up and holding him, the great sin of pride welled up as I walked away leaving my wife to sort it out. I fully recognized that pride was driving me to a place I did not want to go, and yet I could not force it down in that moment.

After some time to simmer down and collect my thoughts, I went and got on my knee in front of my 7-year-old. I apologized to my son in front of my whole family and asked for his forgiveness.

I passed along two thoughts to him after my apology. The first is that as much as I love him, I am just a man, and as a man I will make mistakes. I would never set out to harm any of my children. In fact, I would readily give my life for any of them. My imperfection is a reality that in no way excuses my behavior, but it is a reality none the less. My promise to my son was to do everything in my power to never let him go again.

The second thought that I shared with him was that God never lets His children go. In John 10:28-29 Jesus says, “no one can snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand.”

As much as we strive to be perfect fathers, we will fail at times. How we handle those failures is critical. Our children need to see the right way to deal with failures. For one day, they too will struggle with sin. They need to see our example of owning our sin and failure and taking it to the one who paid for our sin and offers forgiveness. Our children also need to understand the fallacy of transferring their earthly father’s failures onto their relationship with their heavenly Father.

Dad, you will fail your children at some time. How you handle that failure will teach them much about you and your relationship to our heavenly Father. Own your failures and teach your sons and daughters to do so as well.