When Failure Comforts

Last night, I checked on the website of the UP College of Law to see whether I passed the Law Aptitude Exam (LAE) or not. I didn't.

And I can't. Make myself cry or feel sorry or be in despair. I felt nothing. It wasn't heavy. It wasn't light either. As if a giant cushion was placed on my entire being to shield me from anything that would harm my soul.

I never really dreamed of becoming a lawyer, although there are suggestions or prodding from people to be one since I was five years old. But that did not mean I took the exam nonchalantly. For two weeks, I would burn the midnight oil reading LSAT reviewers and I would forego some of my activities to accommodate my preparations for the exam.

So, when I can't see my name on the list of the UP LAE passers, I know I should feel sad. But instead, I felt comforted.

Now, I am not a fail-proof person. But for the many, many years I have avoided failure. I never want to fail. I'd rather not do anything than fail. So, whenever I choose my battles, I would make sure I would get those that would work in my favor. I know, that's some kind of PRIDE. (Can you smell it?)

However, I am slowly realizing that my world is shrinking and I am becoming stagnant. I am turning into a caveman who's missing out on a lot of things simply because I'm afraid to get out. 

So just recently, I decided to let go. I committed my life not to my ego nor my pride, but to wherever God would lead me and whatever God would want me to do. So when He told me to take the UP LAE, I just did. (There's actually an inside story here: UP LAE is usually administered every November. It was August when I heard God telling me to take the UP LAE. I was explaining that I would be busy at work since it's our agency's anniversary on September and that I wouldn't have the time to review. Come October, I heard God telling me to file my exam application. I said it would be very late. But when I opened the UP College of Law website, lo and behold, the exam was postponed to January of next year. Then I heard the Boss said: "So, do you have any other excuses? I have moved heaven and earth for you.")

Failing the UP LAE is actually the second failure in my "adult" life. I also didn't make it to my first reality-talent show auditions last year. And if these failures had done me good, it is by giving me comfort. How?

Failures highlight your strengths by revealing your weaknesses. 

Now at least I know I'm not really good with numbers and logic (as if I really have to rub that in and prove it by taking the LAE!). And that I'm not fit for the life in courtrooms and countless debates.

I'm a creative networker. I love integrating one thoughts with another, hoping to create new syntheses out of the theses and anti-theses that come. I'd rather save the "relationship" rather than winning an argument. I know conflicts give me dissonance and I am deeply affected when there are misunderstandings. Thus, I focus all my energy on restoring "harmony" around me.

Yes, I need these double failures to affirm what I have probably been underestimating all along.

Failures lead you to the right path by blocking one wrong option.

I broke the news to my family immediately when I got home. All of them, particularly Nanay, felt relief upon hearing the "sad news." She saw how difficult it is now for me to manage my time because of work and ministry - what more if I add one more heavy load. 

I know. I wanted to do a lot of things. But I only have one life! So, failures provide the necessary focus that I need. Now, I can see things clearly.

I was actually telling friends that I don't know what to be more nervous about: passing the exam or flunking it. Because I certainly know in my heart that I don't want to be in law school. I was just obeying, remember?

Then, the Lord reminded me that my taking of the UP LAE is really not about a test of my intelligence, but a test of my obedience. And there's no shame in obedience - whether you fail or not.