I recently listened to Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery. When I heard Anne make the claim that "next to trying and winning, the best thing is trying and failing," I nearly fell out of my socks. I'm notorious for wanting to know with absolute certainty, one hundred percent of the time, with no exceptions, exactly what the outcomes will be in any given situation. If, somehow, I don't foresee said outcomes, or if, like sensing an impending storm, I sniff out dangerous outcomes ahead, I would sooner not attempt the task, not step into the situation, not make the decision, not go, not join in, not try. The idea that it's better to try and fail than not to try at all is simply shocking to me.
Yet I believe the idea might just be true. I don't mean in contexts involving a decision resembling gambling. Wisdom should be involved. But given the application of wisdom, what harm is there in failure? Embarrassment? Shame? Hurt? Vulnerability? Pride doesn't want me to feel these things. But what if feeling a bit embarrassed is what it takes to at least gain a new experience or learn more about life (even if it just means learning I'm not great at something)? I know learning is good, and pride isn't a valid reason to do or not do something.
Ah, yes, but my perfect world in its perfect orderly state is in jeopardy if I try with the possibility of failing. On the other hand, if I keep everything under control then nothing unexpected happens, and I can dance through my day without the slightest hint of a misstep.
Well, news flash, self: you are never really in control in the first place!
It may feel like I'm conducting the orchestra, but the Lord, the sovereign Creator, is the one who actually maintains even my ability to breathe. If I recognize this truth, maybe I can relax enough to try when there's a possibility of failing.
But why bother? What is there to gain? I think perhaps the gain is itself partly a loss: loss of fear, anxiety, and pride. The gain is also trust that's placed in God more than in myself. Maybe the gain could also be having a bit of fun. Wait, no. That can't be right.