There are a myriad of purposes in each person’s heart that move us in directions of intense performance.  My own life was encumbered with doubt, a doubt leading to pursuits of driven performance. What led to this experience of doubt within my own heart. There were difficult experiences with my father. What did I do with this troubling relationship?

My own dad didn’t have a father in his life.  His own father abandoned my grandmother when dad was 7 years old. Who was in his life guiding him through his young years? Dad was fatherless.  He was doted on by his mother. He most often got what he wanted.  He was spoiled and a wildly troubled young man. As a teen he had a very fast car that allowed him to speed away from police cars. He had so many tickets the judge knew his name. While sharing his story he beamed with pride in his skill of avoiding troubles he created.  He also learned about hard work. Dad was a self-made man, who didn’t want anyone’s help .What kind of father was he?  Impatient, quick to anger, always right, blaming, hard-working, neglectful in understanding others, respected by his co-workers, nice to people who came to visit our family, and a man who drank beer to cope with internal stress.

Reflecting upon childhood, I remember well how quickly dad became angry, an anger which was accompanied by physical punishment. I desperately wanted to know dad’s love and while at the same time greatly fearing him. His anger was a consistent response to disappointments when I did something he didn’t want me to do or when I made mistakes.  By 9 years old I believed I was responsible for my dad’s anger. No one told me this, it’s what I concluded about my life in response to his outbursts. I thought that if I could be good enough, dad would not get angry with me. Being good enough never resulted in knowing his love and acceptance. Did my dad love me for who I was even when I messed up? No he didn’t, he was angry and punitive. He was good at over reacting to what didn’t really matter and minimizing what really did matter.

By the teen years my relationship with dad was encumbered by doubt.  What was this doubt? Deep within my own heart lay buried an unanswered question. Am I really loved for who I am? Consistently the answer was no. Slowly but surely I moved in directions of finding hope through performance. Performance was where I could be in charge of finding love, acceptance, and significance or so I thought. Sadly I placed the same expectation on those who I was close to, perform and don’t disappoint me. I never learned from my father about loving and accepting a person for who they are. The search for a father’s love lost hope.

After the loss of someone that I loved when 18 1/2 years old, responding to the pain in my heart, “I will never let anyone hurt me like that again,” my tears dried up. What pursuits did I embrace as a young man in response to the unresolved and buried hurt? I became enamored with the world of performance. Hard work, saving money, winning in sports, achievement academically and finding a beautiful woman were directions I headed to find something elusive to my heart and soul. My whole identity was wrapped up in outcomes, success, and finding significance through the approval of others. When facing unexpected disappointment I would respond with angry outbursts. When done with the outbursts I felt better, but those around me became more cautious. Clueless about how my anger affected the lives of others was the norm.

The pursuit of performance has its perks.  Making a great catch in the outfield to end the inning resulted in cheers and high fives. Achieving good grades became a foothold of conversation with others. Success is winning, success is being the smartest one in the class.  What I learned didn’t matter, did I get and A? The driven pursuit of performing soon became a solid foothold, or at least I thought it was, of  finding acceptance and significance. When I failed at something, working harder became the norm.  Working harder included increased hours of study, time at work and increased time on the courts or on the ball field. I lived and breathed the quagmire of performance.  What was this quagmire?

Encumbered with an unspoken doubt that any one would love me if they really knew me, became replaced with driven neediness believing, “I had to earn acceptance or find significance through my own efforts.” Trusting humans for loving and caring support were often met with intense disappointment. Not knowing how to work through disappointment in healthy ways, led to grasping for hope by being in control of my world.  For years  I was lost in performance and didn’t know it.

What happens when we are working hard and pursuing what matters to us, then some how falling short of what mattered to us?  The experience is described as failure.  What happens when we fail someone whom we love? What happens when moral failure is exposed.  How are we responded to when acknowledging our failure? How does our culture respond to those who have failed?

If you watched the NFL playoffs, the Seahawk’s experienced the wonder of a comeback taking them to the Superbowl followed by the heartache of losing the Superbowl. This story isn’t about football, its about how people and our culture respond to perceived failures. After an amazing comeback defeating the Green Bay Packers what did you hear from the sports media?  Criticism of Green Bay, what they did wrong that led to losing a game they were supposed to win. Criticism of playing like the game was over before it was over, blaming coaches for not making good decisions for the team.  Fast forward 2 weeks later, with 30 seconds left in the game Seattle is inside the one yard line with 3 plays and a time out to score with a great opportunities to take the lead and win a second Superbowl. The next play was a pass was intercepted, game over, New England wins.  The booth announcers immediately questioned the call with pronounced disbelief about the offensive play call.  The media had a field day about how poor the decision was not to run the ball. The quarter back and coach both took responsibility for what happened.  Look at some tweets, ESPN comments. The criticism and judgement of a fatefull decision that lead to losing the game rushed like water out an opened fire hydrant. Not only that, some said their play call decision will go down in sports history, others said the Seahawks will never recover from this loss.  Tired yet of the criticism?

When criticism turns in to condemning one’s failure what good is this for those who know they have failed? I contend that condemning others for their failure does nothing but to discourage the heart and soul of those at the receiving end of condemnation.

There is a story of condemnation told in John 8:1-11, concerning moral failure.  “While Jesus was teaching a crowd of people who followed him, a group of religious leaders marched a partially clad woman and sat her before Jesus.” These men spoke to Jesus what the law of Moses says, “when a woman is caught in the act of adultery she is to be stoned to death.  What do you say about this Master? The leaders asked this question to trap Jesus.”  The power of this story reflects the direction Jesus took with one who was condemned. We do not know how long Jesus was silent as he drew with his finger in the dirt. When he does look up his words are firmly and  kindly directed “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.”  One by one the religious leaders walked away. “Jesus looks at the woman and asks her where her accusers have gone?… They do not condemn you neither do I, go and sin no more.”

We all fail in a variety of different ways, morally, in relationships, in loving well, of doing good, in decision making, performing well, and losing in sports events. Who are we to judge or condemn those who fail. Most people feel horrible when they fail, what is important is to encourage, support, guide and celebrate the hearts of those who fail and those who acknowledge their failure.

In a culture that highly values and rewards performance we also want to learn to value,understand, care and celebrate the hearts of those people who are discouraged in the midst of their failure.