Liz Schauer

I’ve been rock climbing on and off since high school, and the worn-out shoes I strap on are evidence of the hours I’ve spent scaling fake rocks. Despite the fact that I don’t really like rock climbing all that much, I have been doing it long enough to be decent.

In light of all of this, I only climb 5.9s. If you’re unfamiliar with climbing, the difficulty is scaled from 0–15 (15 being the most impossible route in the world that only one person has ever climbed one time). A 6-year-old can probably climb a 5.7 with very little help. That being said, a 5.9 is…well…pretty darn average.

But this I am confident in: I will always be able to finish a 5.9.

And that’s my problem.

With climbing. And more importantly: with life.

I’d rather settle for the achievable than stretch and face the possibility of failure.

I allow fear and the mere thought of failure keep me from trying hard. I play in my perfectly established sandbox, building beautiful castles of the exact same height. Because what if one falls over?

Logically, it’s not the end of the world. You learn. You try again. But there is something in me that would rather just be good…always.

A wise person pointed out the many ways in which I’ve had to “sing for my soup.” I’ve had to achieve to be noticed, and so I have morphed into a consistent achiever of slightly-more-than-mediocre. Achieve enough to be above average, but not enough that I might fail.

Then another wise person told me that the best thing I can do is fail, which is downright terrifying, but deep within my soul, I know it’s true. Choosing to risk failure is a declaration that my worth and value is not in what I do. Being in or out, good or bad doesn’t define me—and that’s a hard lesson to learn when our entire lives are shaped around ladders.

I don’t have a perfect ending to this story. But I know that first steps often include confessing and admitting that we have a problem. And friends, I have a problem with failure…more so not failing. So if you find yourself on the sidelines because it’s easier to watch than to take on the pressure of screwing up, I feel you.

This season, I want to fail (I can’t believe I just said that). I started climbing 5.10’s a few weeks ago—some of which I didn’t finish, but miraculously, I lived to tell about it. Then I started reading books (okay I’ve only read one so far), because I know I have untapped potential that has been locked up by fear. Next, I want to have the courage to have difficult conversations.

May the vision of what we can be—and who God created us to be—outweigh the fear of not achieving.

And may we all find the courage to fail.