1장
Beyond the Mask: Where Faith Meets Authenticity
Have you ever felt like you're living a lie? Like the person everyone sees is just a carefully crafted facade hiding your true self? Craig Groeschel, the founder of Life.Church-one of America's largest megachurches-felt exactly that way. Standing before his congregation one Sunday, he realized he had become an expert performer rather than an authentic follower of Christ. This moment of clarity sparked a journey toward radical honesty that would transform not only his ministry but his entire approach to faith. "Dare to Drop the Pose" has become a spiritual phenomenon, resonating with celebrities like Justin Bieber and Tim Tebow, who have publicly praised its message of authenticity. In a religious landscape often criticized for hypocrisy, Groeschel's raw confessions offer a refreshing alternative that has helped thousands of believers find freedom from the exhausting charade of performative Christianity.
2장
The Performer's Dilemma: When Faith Becomes an Act
From my earliest memories, I was playing a game-saying the right things to please parents and teachers. As a teenager, I did almost anything for acceptance: partying, swearing, lying, cheating. By college, I played so many roles I began to lose track of the real me. When I became a Christian at nineteen, much of my life changed miraculously. But in darkened corners of my heart, I continued putting up fronts. As a young pastor, I simply turned professional at the deception.
One seminary professor warned us to guard our "pastor's mystique"-never letting people see us as normal, always appearing superhuman. I took this dangerous advice to heart, forgetting that God called me not to be like a pastor, but to be like Christ. The pressure to maintain this image became unbearable until one Sunday, approaching the pulpit, I realized I hadn't prayed at all that week. I had become a full-time minister but a part-time follower of Christ.
The next Sunday, I walked to the platform without notes, my throat dry with nervousness. "My relationship with God is not what it should be," I confessed to two hundred stunned churchgoers. This unembellished message-my first authentic sermon-sparked something new. God made Himself known. People cried, not just for my sins but for their own. As tears flowed, God's peace replaced my fear. Christ's power invaded my weakness.
Are you tired of pretending? Living to please others? Acting a part? Stop hiding. Be who God called you to be. Live for an audience of ONE. Playing fugitive from truth never brings peace. It's easier to stay as you are-to coast through an average life avoiding risk. You'll often be rewarded for faking it. No one complains about the status quo. You'll blend in, even though you know you were created to stand out.
But if you crave sincere community, take a chance. The reward? Freedom, holiness, release from guilt and shame, deeper relationships with God and others. I've found that living authentically means some people won't like me-but others love the real me. I no longer fear exposure.
3장
When Christians Make Christianity Hard to Believe
I love Christ. It's His followers who make me crazy sometimes. Truth is, I dislike a lot of Christians-not just some, but many. I'd often rather hang with wild, swearing heathens than self-righteous, hypercritical believers. Like that pastor who prays six hours daily because "there are so many people that I hate." Christians can be judgmental, condescending, and fight about trivial things like Bible versions and worship styles.
Then there's Angry Street Preacher shouting "Turn or burn!" And don't get me started on Christian television with its flaky televangelists, their overly made-up wives, and that phony preaching style adding "-uh!" to every sentence. But worst of all, Christians can be stinking hypocritical, saying one thing and doing another, giving skeptics ammunition against Christ.
The Christian who bothers me most isn't from another church. It's me. I hate when I'm less than Christ would want me to be-when I say things I shouldn't, make decisions that hurt people, or act in ways that turn away nonbelievers. Instead of criticizing others, I'm asking God to cleanse me, change me, work in me.
We must become different in our actions. 1 Peter 1:14-15 says, "Do not conform to the evil desires you had when you lived in ignorance. But just as he who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do." But honestly, many Christians don't behave differently from nonbelievers. George Barna's research confirms this: Christians outserve non-Christians by only 2%, and non-Christians actually give more to charity than believers do. Shockingly, 53% of American Christians don't give any money to missions, church, or the poor.
Once at a mall, I became irrationally angry when someone took "my" parking spot. I nearly rammed their car in revenge, terrifying my family. Later inside, the driver apologized sincerely-then witnessed to me about Jesus! "It looks like you have a problem with anger," he said calmly. "Did you know Jesus loves you?" I hate the way I act sometimes. But as God makes me more like Christ, I'm becoming more accepting of His flawed followers-including myself.
Despite my frustrations, there's much I love about Christians. I love my small group Bible study where imperfect people are real about their struggles. I love anonymous acts of kindness, sacrificial giving to worthy causes, and answered prayers. Most of all, I love when people truly grasp God's grace and can't stop talking about it-when imperfect people encounter a perfect God and God wins.
4장
The Battle Within: Fighting for Sexual Integrity
I wish I could say my story was clean, that physical purity came easily when dating my wife Amy, or that becoming a pastor eliminated all sexual temptations. That would be a lie. Most church discussions about sexual purity are either superficial and out of touch or heavy-handed and joyless. I aim for truth, authenticity and hope-filled grace.
My childhood curiosity about the opposite sex began innocently enough-stripping my sister's Barbie doll, discovering nude pygmies in National Geographic with friends, and watching the "fuzzy channel" hoping to glimpse something through the encrypted signal. But at age ten, my naivete shattered when my friend Stephen showed me his father's hidden Playboy magazines. The hormone-charged thrill burned those images permanently into my brain.
By sophomore year of college, I was dragging heavy chains of sin, trapped in webs of deceit. Desperate for freedom, I reached out to God. He answered when a Gideon handed me a Bible on campus, saying, "You look like you could use one of these." I devoured Scripture and surrendered to Christ. Yet one area remained unconquered: I still craved sex. After much internal battling, I finally prayed sincerely, "God, I won't fulfill my selfish, lustful desires. I promise I'll live a sexually pure life."
For two years after my conversion, I stopped dating completely. The next girl I dated became my wife. Though not perfectly pure while dating, Amy and I waited until our honeymoon to share the gift of lovemaking. On our wedding night, I washed my bride's feet, imitating Jesus. We read Scripture and prayed together before unwrapping our wedding gift-the holy, pure experience of married sex. I naively assumed all sexual temptations would now vanish. How wrong I was.
As a newlywed pastor, I kept my ongoing sexual struggles private. My "minor" indulgences seemed harmless-the occasional double-take at a woman or watching R-rated movies. This sleepwalk ended during a ministry trip when I found a Playboy in an airport bathroom stall. My heart raced with that familiar rush. Though I didn't look, the intensity of my desire terrified me. Sexual purity is a profoundly big deal. Ephesians 5:3 demands "not even a hint" of sexual immorality. No rationalization games. No boundary violations.
Through Christ's power, I've achieved a level of sexual purity I once thought impossible. King David's fall with Bathsheba offers crucial warnings. First, always watch for temptation. I never travel alone and haven't been alone with a woman besides my wife for years. I avoid dangerous movie channels and have my internet activity monitored. Don't be overconfident about your strength.
Second, watch what you watch. The Hebrew word for David "saw" Bathsheba is ra'ah-implying an extended, lustful gaze. Simply noticing beauty isn't sin, but lingering and lusting is. Third, watch your company. "Bad company corrupts good character" (1 Corinthians 15:33). Friends who encourage wrong behaviors will harm your spiritual walk. Fourth, watch for the moment of decision. Whether you're having an affair, addicted to pornography, or struggling with sexual thoughts, you can't change your past but you can change your future. God promises in 1 Corinthians 10:13 that He will provide a way out of every temptation.
5장
The Loneliness Paradox: Surrounded Yet Isolated
God declared everything in creation "good" except one thing: "It is not good for the man to be alone." God designed people to need each other. Yet despite this divine design, many of us-including pastors like me-struggle with profound loneliness, even in crowded rooms and successful ministries.
After preaching to a thousand teens at a Christian camp where hundreds came to Christ, I retreated to my hotel room and broke down in tears. Despite being surrounded by people and having just been powerfully used by God, I felt completely abandoned. I questioned who ministers to the minister when I'm hurting, afraid, or need acceptance. One moment I stood confident before a crowd; the next I was crying alone, believing no one cared whether I lived or died.
Loneliness plagues everyone-married people craving intimacy, children wanting real friendships, teenagers battling isolation, singles yearning for companionship, elders feeling forgotten, and even leaders who seem to have it all together. God hates this because He values relationships deeply.
As a pastor, I expected abundant meaningful relationships, but reality crushed those expectations. I imagined supportive followers and loyal friends always ready to help, but those dreams quickly faded. For years, I felt like the loneliest person alive. People offered surface-level kindness-handshakes, compliments, thank you notes-but after many disappointments, my heart had grown hard and cold, preventing deeper connections.
Early ministry wounds led Amy and me to withdraw emotionally from people. At 23, I joined a traditional church staff after successfully growing a young adult class. Though we sacrificed higher-paying careers to make disciples, we found Christians often acting unlike Christ. As our young adult ministry boomed, older members grew alarmed about changes and "their seats" being threatened. Six months into my job, the church committee nearly fired me, teaching me my first dangerous "Seclusion Conclusion": I have to perform for people.
A second disappointment came when close friends who had welcomed us into their home confessed at the altar that they'd secretly despised us for a year because the husband wanted my ministry position. This led to my second "Seclusion Conclusion": To survive in life, you can't trust anyone. I built protective walls that only increased my isolation.
Like turtles retreating into shells when danger approaches, Amy and I withdrew from relationships after feeling rejected. Though our relational wounds were minor compared to many people's experiences, we retreated into isolation, living with the false belief that no one truly knew or cared about us.
When loneliness strikes, we crave intimacy yet fear more pain. I became a performer, creating a "perfect pastor" persona-always smiling, first to arrive, working fifty hours while taking fifteen seminary hours. Reading Galatians 1:10 shook my staged world: "Am I trying to please men or God?" God showed me I needed to stop performing for others and live for an audience of One.
My second wrong assumption was that I couldn't trust people. With "NO TRESPASSING" signs posted around my heart, I'd reveal just enough to create an illusion of friendship. When my workout partner John confronted me, saying he wouldn't waste time with someone who wouldn't be himself, I took the risk to trust John with my pain. Eleven years later, he remains my accountability partner, proving that meaningful friendship requires vulnerability.
My third false conclusion-that people don't really care-was proven wrong when Amy needed bed rest during her fifth pregnancy. When I finally humbled myself to ask for help, people showered us with meals for three months, cleaned our house, mowed our lawn, and cared for our kids. My pride had been the barrier to receiving love from others all along.
6장
Redefining Prayer: Beyond Formality to Authentic Conversation
My first public prayer happened in high school when I attended a Fellowship of Christian Athletes meeting to meet girls. When the coach unexpectedly asked me to pray, I nervously stumbled through it, ending with an awkward request for God to "help all the guys find dates with hot girls at FCA." Years later as a Christian, I still felt uncomfortable praying publicly, preferring private prayer instead.
In college, my roommate Todd loved lengthy, out-loud prayer meetings that I secretly despised. While everyone who "really loved God" would attend these gatherings, I'd get bored and sometimes fall asleep. Beyond disliking group prayer, I can't even claim to have a strong private prayer life. My personal prayers have always been half-hearted and inconsistent, creating a burden of guilt that many other pastors and Christians I've met can identify with.
People don't pray for various reasons: they don't know how, they're afraid of getting it wrong, they doubt God will answer, they get bored and distracted, or they don't believe God cares about their small issues. For years I agonized over my inadequacy, wondering what was wrong with me while desperately desiring a more intimate relationship with God.
My breakthrough came when I redefined prayer simply as "communicating with God." This revolutionized my approach. Communication doesn't require formal words-it can happen through various means. Prayer doesn't need to be stuffy, long, or dry. It's just transferring thoughts, feelings, emotions, and ideas to God in whatever way works for you.
The prophet Jeremiah modeled honest prayer, never holding back his true feelings with God. For years, I used the "Eddie Haskell approach"-praying what I thought God wanted to hear with formal, flattering dishonesty, hoping to manipulate Him. Jesus warned against praying to be seen by others. Real prayer means being truthful-telling God when you're hurting, afraid, doubtful, or angry. He can handle your whole heart.
Just as I suddenly cared about my daughter's sick goldfish because I cared for her, God cares about what you care about. Paul instructed believers to pray about "everything," not just the seemingly important matters. I learned this lesson when my new wife asked me to pray for our broken air conditioner. Though feeling foolish, I laid hands on it and prayed-and it miraculously started working!
The command to "pray continually" used to frustrate me until I experienced it firsthand when my two-year-old son broke his femur in an accident. For ten hours in the hospital, I prayed without ceasing-not formal prayers, but constant thoughts directed to God: pleas for help, questions, expressions of guilt and fear. Like staying in touch with loved ones throughout the day, continual prayer means maintaining an ongoing conversation with God.
Prayer can be creative and varied. Like King David, who prayed through instruments, songs, and even shouting, we can expand our prayer life. Try turning prayers into songs, playing instruments, or praying while doing everyday activities like mowing grass or jogging. Pray for neighbors as you pass their homes or coworkers during meetings. Other creative approaches include writing prayers, finding special prayer places, varying body positions, and simply listening to God-as my seven-year-old daughter Catie once reminded me: "God will tell you He loves you, if you listen closely enough."
7장
The Worry Paradox: Faith Versus Fear
Pastors are supposed to have unwavering faith, yet I struggle constantly with worry. This confession haunts me with guilt-Christians aren't supposed to worry, making me feel like a spiritual failure. But the harsh reality is that even as a pastor, I worry almost all the time about big things, small things, important things, and silly things. It feels like a spiritual curse I can't shake.
I worry about everything-the economy, jobs, health, aging parents, money, kids' safety, marriage, terrorism. Even when all is well, I worry about what bad thing might happen next. Worry isn't just unpleasant-it's harmful to our bodies, relationships, and faith. It's actually sin-"the sin of distrusting the promises and power of God." When I worry, I'm telling God I don't trust Him to handle my problems, which insults my heavenly Father's heart.
My grandma, who grew up during the Great Depression, taught me to worry. With pure motives, she instilled in seven-year-old me the fear that economic collapse could happen anytime. I became a child prodigy of worry, hiding every dollar under my carpet. The breaking point came when my daughter Catie, on her birthday, ordered the cheapest item at her favorite restaurant because "I'm afraid we can't afford it." I was crushed, realizing I had passed my grandmother's fear to my child. That's when I decided to break free from financial worry.
As my faith grows, worry shrinks. Progress comes only by internalizing God's truth. The first lesson He's taught me is to take my mind off the "what ifs" of worry. For years I played the what-if game with its simple rules: only think of worst-case scenarios, never win, and suffer greater losses the more you play. Jesus taught us to "make up your mind not to worry beforehand" (Luke 21:14)-decide ahead of time not to dwell on what could go wrong.
I'm learning to replace fearful thoughts with God's promises. Like extreme skier Kim Reichhelm who avoids crashes by "looking at the spaces between the trees," I must focus not on dangers but on God's path of security, blessing, protection, and provision. When I focus on worst-case scenarios instead of trusting God, I dishonor Him. George Mueller said it perfectly: "The beginning of anxiety is the end of faith, and the beginning of true faith is the end of anxiety."
My greatest struggle is giving my cares to God without taking them back. After surviving three car accidents as a passenger in my teens, I'm terrified when not driving. This control issue mirrors my spiritual life-I cling to an illusion of control rather than trusting the One who never panics. My wife Amy found freedom from worry through suffering. After unexplained health problems following our second child's birth, she faced her greatest fear-dying and leaving her family. For months she begged God to let her live until finally surrendering completely. In that moment of total release, worry lost its grip on her.
For worries we can control, action is required-deal with debt, confess affairs, improve health. But for everything else: stop playing the what-if game, focus on God's promises, and surrender concerns without reclaiming them. Paul wrote from prison, "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God" (Philippians 4:6-7). Like my gym experience when my spotter carried the weight while shouting "IT'S ALL YOU!" we can rest when we realize it's all God. Always has been.
8장
When Faith Falters: Navigating the Desert of Doubt
My first spiritual doubt came unexpectedly in church around age seven when I wondered if God was real or something we invented. These questions have persisted throughout my life-even during seminary and ministry. I've often wished God would provide dramatic proof of His existence-a modern burning bush, ocean-parting, or resurrection caught on video. Though God has acted powerfully in history, He seems less demonstrative today, leaving room for doubt.
In college, I abandoned church completely, focusing on partying until God's presence became undeniably real to me on a vacant softball field. Without any physical signs, I heard internally: "Without Me you have nothing. With Me you have everything." This encounter transformed me overnight into someone defined by ministry. Yet my unshakable faith was later challenged in seminary when a professor threw the Bible against the wall, promising to shred our "naive faith."
My faith has stabilized over time, though doubts still occasionally surface. I've learned there's a crucial difference between believing in God and believing God-just as someone might believe in airplanes but fear flying in them. I've identified three types of believers: casual believers who acknowledge God but live as practical atheists; convenient believers who invoke faith only when personally beneficial; and committed believers who pursue complete obedience. God wants us to have committed faith-to "hop in His wheelbarrow" with complete trust.
Thomas, often maligned as "Doubting Thomas," actually demonstrates how sincere doubts can strengthen faith. After abandoning everything to follow Jesus, Thomas refused to accept second-hand accounts of the resurrection. His demand for personal verification wasn't weakness but wisdom-he understood the revolutionary implications if Jesus had truly risen. Like Thomas, we need personal ownership of our faith rather than inherited beliefs.
My brother-in-law David died in 2004, which didn't seem fair. Yet instead of shaking my faith, it grew stronger because years ago I'd asked the hard question: Why doesn't God seem fair? As a young pastor, I saw too many injustices-children killed by drunk drivers, godly couples unable to have children, starvation amid luxury. God revealed to me that He's not fair-He's just. And I should be thankful. If God were fair, I'd get what my sins deserve. Because He's just, someone must die for sin. But Jesus paid that price, giving up His innocent life for mine.
Jesus could have been angry at Thomas's doubt, but instead, He gave Thomas exactly what his faith needed-an invitation to touch His risen body. God will treat you with the same patient understanding. Ask questions, seek truth, and watch God give you what you need to believe. God didn't give me the miraculous signs I wanted, but He gave me what I needed-His presence. My spiritual journey has been marked by progress and setbacks, with God providing what my faith needed at each point-the right professor, an answered prayer, a timely call, or the perfect Bible verse. Take your doubts to God. He'll provide what you need for committed faith.
9장
The Power of Weakness: Finding Strength in Inadequacy
I feel completely inadequate to be a pastor. There, I said it. But that's just the beginning-I also feel unqualified as an author, husband, and dad. From the outside, I may look like I've got it together, leading a growing church. People compliment my leadership and preaching. But inside, I feel like a scared little boy hoping to make it through another week. I've been haunted by insecurities my entire life, with concrete evidence proving my inadequacy-like my first funeral, where I accidentally swallowed a fly during "Amazing Grace" and ended with an inappropriate joke.
I don't feel I know enough. I didn't become a Christian until college and never read the Bible before that. In a college Bible study, I embarrassed myself by pronouncing Job as "jawb" instead of "jobe." Though I graduated from seminary, I wasn't paying attention-just jumping through hoops for the degree. I read through the Bible yearly, but it doesn't always stick. When someone asks about obscure biblical details, I'm often thinking, "What's a Zebulun?"
I don't feel good enough. A respectable pastor should be righteous-no bad words, no bad thoughts, just faith, peace, and Christlikeness. Other Christians, especially pastors, seem to have it all together. Then there's me. One of my most shameful moments involved saying a really bad word when I foolishly plugged in an electrical cord while standing in waist-deep water during a basement flood. How can a preacher who explains God's love use the same mouth to utter such filth?
My third credential for spiritual failure: I've made too many mistakes. I've shared some already-sex before marriage, drinking, lying, cheating on every girlfriend except my wife. And those are just the printable ones. When I look at these shortcomings, they reaffirm my conclusion: I'm not good enough for God to use.
Which parts of the Bible encourage me most? They're the passages that tell about the men Jesus picked as disciples. Notice whom He did not pick: not a single Pharisee, Sadducee, or scribe-the spiritual elite. Jesus didn't choose the best looking, most talented, best educated, or most likely to succeed. Instead, He chose twelve ordinary, sinful, insecure people-just like you. Just like me.
Moses teaches us that God loves to use those who are unsure of themselves. When God called Moses to lead His people from Egypt, Moses complained, "I have never been eloquent... I am slow of speech and tongue." Instead of focusing on God's power, Moses zeroed in on his own powerlessness. My friend Dennis once told me something profound: "God doesn't choose the prepared. He prepares the chosen." You don't have to be ready for God to use you. When God calls you, He'll prepare you with on-the-job training.
David's life teaches that you are a candidate for God to use when others think you're not. When Samuel visited Jesse's household to anoint Israel's next king, Jesse paraded seven impressive sons before him. God rejected them all. Only the runt remained-the baby shepherd boy. God chose the most unlikely because "The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart." God has put more in you than those around you can see.
When battling feelings of inadequacy, remember three things: First, don't believe everything your fans say about you. Second, don't believe everything your critics say either. Third, the only opinion that matters is God's. In Acts 4:13, Peter and John were described as "unschooled, ordinary men"-the Greek word is idiotes, meaning "unskilled." These were normal guys like us. But "these men had been with Jesus"-and that made them extraordinary. Spend time with Jesus, and let Him turn you from an ordinary person into an extraordinary disciple.
10장
Rising Above: Handling Criticism with Grace
I stink at handling criticism-especially the nit-picking, ignorance-based, selfishly motivated kind. One of my greatest character flaws is caring too much about what people think. I should be consumed with pleasing God, but I'm often trying to please people. The more insecure I feel, the harder it is to take criticism. As a pastor, tolerating critical people comes with the job. In the same week, the worship music can be both "too loud" and "too soft" depending on which critic I'm speaking with.
Negative people have been around since the beginning of time. Even biblical figures faced constant criticism-Moses for marrying a foreigner, Paul for being a "lousy speaker," and Jesus for healing on the Sabbath. When criticized, I battle two wrong impulses: fight (defending myself) or flight (hiding). Both are useless. God's method is better. My mom taught me to "consider the source"-the who is often more important than the what. This helps determine whether to listen, answer, or dismiss criticism.
Sometimes you should answer criticism when providing missing information could help the critic understand your position. Gideon modeled this perfectly when he answered the Ephraimites' sharp criticism with information that calmed their anger. When my wife and I are criticized for having six children or homeschooling them, explaining our reasons-her education degree, our strategy for socialization, my weekend work schedule-often softens judgments.
Sometimes the best response is simply to dismiss invalid criticism. Some people see only the bad side of everything-their silver linings have clouds. What people praise reveals what they value; what they criticize often reveals their insecurities. I've seen this play out repeatedly, like when "Steve" angrily condemned his roommate's pornography use while hiding his own three-year affair.
Understanding your critic is especially helpful when they're emotionally unhealthy. "Hurt people hurt people"-they usually dislike themselves and criticize others to validate themselves. Your critic may be struggling at work, facing a midlife crisis, or dealing with family problems. Once while praying before preaching, someone slipped me a hateful note because I wasn't available on my day off. Rather than internalizing the offense, I chose compassion, recognizing that such a disproportionate reaction likely indicated deep pain.
I've always loathed critical hearts-until I realized I was becoming one myself. I could fault people's diets, spending habits, and especially how churches operated, while recoiling when others criticized me. God convicted me to change. I tried going a day without criticizing anyone and could barely make it fifteen minutes without negative thoughts. So I made one of my best life decisions: if I couldn't stop the negative thoughts, I'd at least stop the negative words.
When critics just won't go away and you can't ignore untrue criticisms that keep resurfacing, there's a fourth response: endure. For those blazing new trails-whether in church, business, family, or missions-criticism is inevitable. Like the disciples who faced martyrdom, Luther who risked his life, or modern pioneers with "arrows in their backs," you must develop endurance. You cannot grow past your threshold for pain. Fix your eyes on Jesus who "endured the cross" for the joy set before him.
11장
The Freedom to Fail: Embracing Risk and Resilience
Fear of failure haunts me daily. As a pastor, I worry about failed preaching, turning people away from Christ, or losing my family while building a church. Whether sharing faith, raising children, or taking on responsibilities, this fear can paralyze us from taking necessary risks.
This fear has followed me since childhood. Jesus addressed this in Matthew 25 with the servant who buried his master's money, earning the label "wicked, lazy servant." Too many Christ-followers "play it safe" rather than risking for God, potentially forfeiting divine opportunities.
Consider an experiment where scientists sprayed monkeys with cold water when reaching for bananas. New monkeys were prevented from reaching by others who never experienced the spray themselves. Similarly, people often discourage others from taking risks based on their past hurts.
Your spiritual enemy weaponizes fear, but "God has not given us a spirit of fear." The key is understanding God's Philosophy of Failure, beginning with the Failure Fact: You will fail. This truth isn't discouraging-it's liberating. Failing is essential for success. "We all stumble in many ways."
After my sermon disaster, my mentor Nick offered wisdom: "Everyone fails. Feel the disappointment, but don't let it define you. Failure is an event, never a person." Whether facing divorce, bankruptcy, or job loss, these are events that happened, not your identity.
Nick later suggested God might have wanted my initial failure. Through failures, I learned humility, dependence on God, and to trust His presence more than my abilities. Almost every success in my life followed failure, teaching more valuable lessons than victories.
Failure is an obstacle to overcome with God's help. Proverbs 24:16 says, "Though a righteous man falls seven times, he rises again." At our church, most innovations initially failed, including our first video worship attempt. But these failures led to thirty-one successful experiences later.
Can you please God by staying safe? No. "Without faith it is impossible to please God" (Hebrews 11:6). Faith requires taking the right risks. If you don't face your fear of failure, you'll live with the regret of "what if" and "I wish I would have." Don't let fear keep you from God's opportunities.
