Is “Failure” Fruitless?

Nehemiah 13

Last Monday we dropped our oldest off at college. He was worried about my tears as we hugged goodbye, but I reassured him that nothing was wrong. And that’s true, even though it felt like I was leaving behind my 1 year old who had just learned how to walk, or my 5 year old who had just learned how to read, or my 10 year old who had just learned the difference between girls and boys. 

How can this be ok?

Eighteen years of parenting, and that stage is over with a wave out the window. 

We wonder deep down, if we led well enough. 

Whether you’re a parent or not, any time we invest ourselves whole-heartedly in someone or something, any time we give our lives to a cause or to a calling, any time we lead the way in some type of role, we’re hoping and praying for certain results. The late nights, the long prayers, the lack of sleep - will all of that end in positive outcomes?

It seems that the flourishing of both people and projects hinges entirely on the leader, especially today when leadership development initiatives are having their cultural moment. But in the final chapter of Nehemiah, we find unexpected reassurance - for both moms and managers - in a leader’s “failure”. 

For twelve years he prayed, labored and devoted himself to his calling, but the minute Nehemiah stepped away, it all fell apart. Some say these kinds of results indicate a leadership issue: If only he had done a better job building his bench, preparing the next generation, there would not have been a leadership gap. If only he had actually cared about the people, they would have followed someone who cared. If only he had a system in place, the people would have had the clarity they needed in his absence. Since leadership is influence, these results must mean he didn’t have either. Maybe God didn’t choose him after all.

We have only to read the previous chapters to know that these assumptions would be wrong. 

Famous for its leadership principles, the book ironically ends with Nehemiah’s agony and frustration. Nothing he did actually stuck with the people. His example couldn’t keep them on the right path, and his reforms couldn't hold them close to God. 

But these realities narrow Nehemiah’s focus: his calling isn’t actually about a certain response from the people he’s led; his calling is really between God and him (v. 14,22,31). If your leadership, your parenting, or your efforts to make change have failed to produce the results you were hoping for, you might be overlooking the fruit God sees: your own personal faithfulness to His calling, just like Nehemiah’s.

It could be Today

Nehemiah 2

When we were newly married and fresh out of college, Nate accepted a job as a pastoral intern. Apparently we didn’t hide our age or naïveté very well, because the pastor looked at the two of us and said kindly, "Being in ministry is the ministry of preparation.”

I’m not sure how many times over the past two decades that phrase has been both motivating and consoling to me. It’s motivating, because it begs the question, “What ministry are you preparing for right now?”, and it’s consoling, because when there is no tangible position, title, or opportunity that I can see, God is preparing me. Often, my own act of preparing and God’s act of preparing me, coincide.

Without preparation, there is - at best - less to contribute. 

With preparation, there is - at best - a life to contribute.

Chapter 1 of Nehemiah closed with his expectant prayer, “Give success to your servant today…” 

I wonder if Nehemiah prayed that prayer every day during the four months that passed between the end of chapter 1 and the beginning of chapter 2. How many days did he wake up thinking, “it could be today that God gives me success”? And 120 days went by. 

No doubt, expectation was building, and as it did, preparations for rebuilding took shape. This was Nehemiah’s ministry of preparation: untold hours calculating supplies, manpower, and legalities; late nights, distracted daydreaming, and the risk of being misunderstood when it all started to show.

Since it could be today, let’s embrace the ministry of preparation like Nehemiah did:

Pray to God

Plan the details

Present the idea

Discerning a Calling

Maybe you’re familiar with the concept that whatever breaks your heart could be the difficulty, situation, or topic where the world needs your voice and presence the most. It’s the idea that when you find yourself deeply grieved by a situation, and you hear yourself saying, “It shouldn’t be like this”,  God might be calling you to change things.

I see this process at work in the life of the Old Testament prophet, Nehemiah. 

Nehemiah was exiled a thousand miles from his Jewish homeland, serving a Persian king. If you’ve ever lived far from your native country, your hometown, or your family, you know that distance stirs up questions about the people and places you love. These questions range from curiosity to concern, random to persistent.

Question marks are heavy. Not knowing what’s going on, not having an answer, and not hearing a word, are burdens hard to bear. Whether questions linger about physical, spiritual, or emotional matters, they feel like carrying around a backpack of bricks or walking under storm clouds, thick with rain.

For Nehemiah, the only way news traveled was by foot - a reality we can barely imagine today - so when a band of brothers arrived in Susa from Jerusalem, he went straight to them for updates about escapees, survivors, and the capital city. 

What they shared only weighed Nehemiah down further, as they unloaded on him all the trouble, shame, brokenness, and destruction in Jerusalem. But how Nehemiah responded to the news, can serve as a template for us; when our hearts cry out, “It shouldn't be like this”, Nehemiah shows us what to do about it:

He sat down

He wept

He mourned for days

He fasted

He prayed

If you’re bearing a burden of “it shouldn’t be like this,” follow Nehemiah’s five-fold response, found in chapter 1, and see how God might actually open doors to a calling on your life.

For more on fasting, check out this article.