This is part 2 of When Courage Fails – Don’t miss the first part of the story over here.
Shortly after we exited the plane, my husband and I corralled our children and headed to the baggage claim. I giggled as for one last time we unfolded the stroller and stacked it up with 3 carseats, 3 suitcases and numerous other backpacks or carry-on items our kids were too tired to carry themselves.
My heart swelled with pride a bit. We did it. We did the vacation with a bunch of littles, multiple flights without any major meltdowns. We did Disneyland and didn’t manage to lose anyone (well, not for very long anyway. But that’s a story for another day) and we endured the last flight when I was certain we were about to implode.
And then I glanced across the baggage claim and saw the woman I sat next to on the last fight. She was being held by another women who apparently came to pick her up. And she was sobbing. She was broken. The looks on their faces were painful. My pride faded fast as they left the airport for the parking lot.
I don’t know if I had words that could have even begun to soothe that woman’s broken heart. I’m not arrogant enough to believe that I could have made a lasting impact on her. But I do know that if she was the man, battered and bruised, lying alongside the road, I wasn’t the Good Samaritan. I didn’t offer what aid I had. I was distracted and I was scared – of being uncomfortable, of messing up, of being weird.
And I hated that.
I prayed about that for weeks. I prayed that I would run into that woman one more time. We were both flying home so she couldn’t have lived that far away from me, right? I prayed that I wouldn’t forget her face so if I ran into her at the mall or Costco I would remember her. I prayed that I would be bolder and braver, that I would listen better and do the very best I could, if I could have just one more chance.
Although I still have that woman’s face memorized, I have never seen her again.
Here is the thing. We will have brave fails. We will have moments in our lives where we stare down something that scares us – a hard conversation we know we need to have, an awkward phone call we know we need to make, a put ourselves out there moment that makes us sick to our stomach – and we will walk away from it.
Sometimes we don’t even clearly recognize the choice we are making, until we have made it.
We can make excuses for ourselves. I was tired and I was distracted. I didn’t want to mess it up or say the wrong thing. Somethings are better left unsaid, right? And the rest of the world will probably never know the difference. No one will ever blame you. But deep down inside you will always know. I have always known that I chickened out in that moment.
And when we are brave enough to acknowledge our failures, we have two options: feel guilty or become braver. For awhile I felt guilty for not speaking up to that lady. But that gets me nowhere.
It’s also important to remember that I didn’t mess up God’s plan. I’m really not that important. His will to provide comfort and hope for that woman will be accomplished with or without me. But I missed out on the blessing of obedience.
So I chose to become braver. I saw that interaction for what it was. I vowed if I ever saw that woman again, I would walk right up to her. Unfortunately, I’ve never seen her again.
The weekend before last, my husband and I had the awesome opportunity to get away together for the weekend. To Minnesota. Yes, get away, across the country, for the weekend, to the coldest state in the US, in December. Don’t try to make sense of it, just stay with me here.
As we boarded our connecting flight in Denver, my husband took the aisle seat, I had the middle and the window seat remained open until the very last minute when Tom sat down. Tears in his eyes and barely keeping himself together, Tom told me he was on his way back to Chicago for his best friend, Tony’s, funeral. Tony was only about 50 years old. He went to sleep and never woke up. And I smiled, just a little, inside, because I was ready for this. God had given me another chance. And this time, I was brave.
Don’t let those brave fails ruin you, friends. Don’t let them get you down. A failure of courage, used properly, has the power to be a stepping stone to your bravest moments ever. Be brave. And then, be braver.
Katie, great post! Thanks for sharing. I’ve been enjoying reading your blog! In your post you said, “I’m really not that important” I understand your point but there’s another side to that statement. “You are that important.” “We are that important.” God using his people to be an extension of Him on this earth. What you’re doing right now with your posts is important… he might find someone else but maybe NO one else will step up and write your post. As a matter of fact, NO one can write your post because He created you to do this and gave only you the skills and experiences needed to write them just the way you do. Yes, God can raise up the rocks if need be. But He needs us so He can touch and heal hurting people. That was part of his plan! We are workers together with Christ! 🙂 He needs us to step aside and let Him move through us. I remember one time I wasn’t brave when I knew God was asking me to talk with someone about His love. Within a few short weeks, the next thing I heard about this elderly women was she had died. God could have raised up someone else to do the work (I’m sure he did if she had a heart to know him. He’s not going to let anyone that wants him be lost.) but it breaks my heart that I didn’t listen to His small voice when He asked me to talk with her. And touch her life and love her in a way only I could have. The posts of yours that I have read have given me some deep things to think about. Stuff I too have experienced on some level… things the Lord is working in my heart. Keep letting Jesus shine through you… I need your posts! YOU ARE THAT IMPORTANT! Aunt, Renee
Thank you so much for taking the time to write these words and encourage me, Renee. Your support means the world to me! <3
When will you share what you talked about? Good job, Katie. Maybe ignoring that woman a couple years ago was God’s plan for this man. Awkward=awesome.
Wow, you may be right. We talked about all kinds of things. I shared my faith in bits and pieces when it felt appropriate and gave him some things to think about. He dropped plenty of f-bombs and continually apologized for them and for taking my time, but he felt comfortable just being himself and I tried my best to meet him right where he was. I think that may be what brave looks like in that situation. No hefty expectation, just meeting someone right there they are and humbly offering the hope that you have.
Great stuff Katie!
Thank you, Jann! I so appreciate that!
I love this…how cool is it that God gave you another opportunity! Thanks for the encouragement.
So very cool, Kelly, I was so excited that I got another shot to do it a little better. I talked to that guy for the entire 3 hour flight.
Awesome story Katie. Brave is better. Thank you.
Dorris, I was so happy to see your name here! And yes, brave is better. <3
I have had these moments so many times, I’ve even seen the person again and didn’t choose brave, I chose run away. I’m terrible at approaching people, hopefully one day I will choose brave! Thanks for this, super inspiring post!
Thank you for your honesty, Heather. I think feeling awkward in personal interactions is a tough kind of brave. But I keep telling myself “what have I got to lose?”. So often the answer is, absolutely nothing. There is a chance the guy next to me on the flight, who I will likely never see again, could a) think I’m a weirdo churchy girl or b) move one step closer to changing his direction for eternity. When I look at it that way it’s a no-brainer; it’s a risk I’m willing to take. Keep fighting for brave. You can do this, I promise! 🙂
i’ve said that a couple of times lately 😀
🙂