Failure To Launch...

"The greatest barrier to success is the fear of failure..."

-Sven Goran Eriksson

"There are no secrets to success. It is the result of preparation, hard work, and learning from failure."

-Ret. General Colin Powell

"My imperfections and failures are as much a blessing from God as my successes and my talents and I lay them both at His feet."

-Mahatma Gandhi

Failure is a subject that I'm intimately acquainted with...

Its something that, at one point in my life, I was obsessed with...

I was so preoccupied with failure that my life revolved around the concept of doing whatever it took to not be a failure...in my own eyes.

I honestly didn't care what people around me felt about my personal circumstances with regards to success and failure. More often than not, I was told that I had not failed...I was told that I was simply a victim of circumstances...

Well, in my mind...I'd failed.

Whenever I was asked about my greatest fear my answer came quick and consistent. I'd reply with a cold stare, "Failure..."

I feared no man...

I did not fear the gun...

I did not fear any sort of physical harm...

I did not fear death in the least...

I feared failure...more than death itself...

When I was a praying man, I would constantly beg God to not let me fail...

I simply knew God wouldn't let me fall...

My mind constantly goes back to a certain point in my past when I reminisce about talking to God regarding failure.

It was the summer of 2005, a little over 5 years ago. I was homeless, broke, destitute, brokenhearted, and completely incapable of fathoming why I had been handed this set of circumstances. I had dedicated my life to helping others. I had given time, money, effort, sweat, and tears to anyone in need of help. I simply could not understand why my God could allow me to become so weak...so broken...

I reached in my pocket and pulled out my last 10 dollars...I looked in my bank account and saw -11.86. The change in my little broken down Dodge Neon totaled a little over 37 cents. I leaned against my car and took a deep breath.

Standing in the parking lot of an on campus apartment complex, leaning against a car that wouldn't move and contained all my worldly posessions, clutching the last bit of legal tender I could scrounge up...I found myself searching for answers...

I glanced up towards a busy street nearby and saw the lights of a Chevron...

I walked up the street with my hands in the pockets of my tattered jeans. My "Alabama" cap low over my eyes, I walked towards it and thought heavily...

When the body knows it may not have another meal for a while, the stomach no longer growls. It disappears. The mind takes over and tells it, "Hey...cut it out. We don't have time for that, we've got to find a way back to sustenance together."

So, I walk into the gas station without a bit of food in my stomach. I bypass the microwaveable meals, the potato chips, the peanuts, the granola bars, even the candy...and walk straight to the beer cooler. I reach in and grab a 6 pack of my favorite beer and walk slowly to the counter. The teller asks, "Hey, how are you," feigning interest. I lie too. "Fine...gimme a pack of Newport 100s."

The teller tosses the cigarettes on the counter and says, "9.68."

I hand her my money and walk slowly out of the store with 69 cents in my pocket.

I get outside and gingerly pull out a cigarette. Placing the stick of white relief to my lips, I look at the apartment complex I'm walking back to while fumbling for a lighter in my pocket. After lighting the stick of tobacco...I dreadfully make my trek back to my place of residence, the front seat of my car.

As I get back to the car, I hear the crack of thunder. I flick my cigarette away and think of somewhere to go so that I don't have to sleep in my car during the rain...my window insulation had a nasty leak, so I didn't want to wake up wet.

Luckily, the apartment complexes had balconies. I climb over the rail of one of the balconies and try the patio door, its locked. I walk back to the railing, the thunder cracks again. I glance to the left at an out of order vending machine and look up at the second floor. I climb over the railing and walk up the complex steps. I leap toward the machine and grip the edge of its top. Pulling myself on top of the machine I glance again at the balcony railing on the second story apartment.

A light rain begins to fall.

I inch over to the edge of the vending machine and jump, reaching for the bars of the railing. I grasp the bars near the middle of the railing and slide down to the bottom, nearly falling off. The rails had been made slick by the rain. I pull myself up and steady myself by placing my knee on the inch or so of concrete protruding from under the railing. I climb over the railing and reach for the patio door.

Its open.

I enter the apartment and open the front door. Its summertime, and I am sure no one is living there. The empty rooms proved my assumption right. I walked downstairs to retrieve my 6 pack.

That night, I sat outside on the patio and talked to God. Yes, smoking Newports and drinking beer, I talked to God...

God and I have a personal relationship. We talk often. He knows all my secrets. Things I'm afraid to admit to myself. He tells me when I'm wrong. He tells me when he's proud of me. He tells me when I've completely screwed up. He soothes me when I'm angry...even when I'm mad at him. We talked for a long time that night and I begged him to not let me fail...he never replied.

After I'd finished my 6 pack, I realized that I still wasn't drunk....I looked up at the sky and listened to the symphony of rain and thunder. Praying, hoping, wishing for a reply...but there was none...

I pulled out another cigarette and said to myself, "Well...I guess he forgot about me."

5 years later, God and I haven't talked much...I guess he pretty much ignored my begging...now I understand...I was always afraid of failure because I was preoccupied with the concept of success and doing whatever I could to attain it...while I feel like I'm far from successful...I'm still intimately acquainted with failure. Why? Because I've faced it head on...and made it through to the other side. Now, I no longer fear failure...I no longer fear death...I DO, however, fear God...even though we don't talk much...

So what does that say about me?

I don't completely know...but I know I'm no longer afraid to fall...I'm only hoping to fly.

-Bleek