In high school, I was no natural scholar, except in right-brain subjects like English literature and writing. Other important classes, like math and science, gave me heaps of trouble. Because I studied those subjects like my life depended on it, I miraculously pulled off decent grades. It didn’t hurt that God graced me with a friend, Amy, who religiously helped me with homework for those subjects.

(Greater love hath no 1990s high school student than one who’d regularly lay down her TV viewing time to talk me through algebra.)

While my report card looked favorable enough, the same cannot be said for my ACT and SAT scores. A slow test taker under the best of circumstances, I struggled to complete every single section in time. During the ACT specifically, a nosebleed sent me to the bathroom for a whole 20 precious minutes.

When all was said and done, my admission package was good enough to get me into college, but it wasn’t good enough to help me pay for it. And this fact led my academic advisor to tell me something along the lines of, “You do well, Kristen, just not well enough.”

Also during my senior year, I practiced my musical instrument, the oboe, till my finger pads practically fell off my fingertips in preparation for All-State auditions. All-State was the biggest competition for high school musicians across my home state of Oklahoma. Junior year, I’d made 4th chair in the All-State Band. This year, I wanted 1st chair.

On audition day, I drew a late audition number, which meant it’d be hours before my time to play. Instead of using that waiting time to practice or pray, I foolishly camped outside the audition door and listened to every other oboist nail the audition piece. When I walked into the audition room myself, my nerves ballooned till I couldn’t breathe. I proceeded to play my audition piece as if I’d just looked at the music for the first time. As a result, I didn’t make All-State Band at all. I made second alternate.

Staring at my name listed far down the acceptance list, the academic advisor’s words came back to me,

“You do well, Kristen, just not well enough.”

Truly, I flub up, fumble, and fall flat on my face aplenty, and often because of my own poor choices. But what about the times we do all the right things to achieve a desired result, and that desired result falls like water through our hands?

Poor at math though I am, I like to think I grasp it enough to make this calculation work:

desired goal + consistent hard work = achieving the results I want

When this doesn’t happen, I’m once again the high school senior sitting in the creaky metal chair in my counselor’s office, hearing the words,

“You do well, Kristen, just not well enough.”

The truth I couldn’t see at 18 but can see at 51 is that I had a mighty strong bent toward equating my worth with my performance. It didn’t help that when I performed well, I was praised to the heavens and back down again.

But those early failures helped me learn that I was beloved regardless of any success I achieved, not because of it.

In truth, grown-up Kristen needs this reminder, too.

Still, the disappointment from not doing as well as you’d like hurts. Hopes deferred make the heart sick, says Proverbs 13:12, and it’s true. It’s also true that God often allows a disappointment to become His appointment for something better.

I love this explanation:

“Hope deferred doesn’t mean hope denied. It just means the story is still being written. And maybe, just maybe, the delay is the miracle. Because it’s in the waiting that your roots grow deep enough to hold the fruit when it finally comes.”
— Andrew Alleyne

If we wipe our tears, we can see our disappointments carry this secret message from heaven: I’m setting the stage for your maximum benefit, and it’s not ready… yet.

Success is more fun, to be sure. But the strand of gold found in the familiarity of failure is that God is always arranging our circumstances behind the scenes for our favor and good. Believing this builds our trust muscles to rely on God rather than our own efforts. And then we know that our job is to work hard by doing what God has asked us to do, and we let Him handle the results.

All of this has led me to ask a hard but necessary question: What am I really trusting in? I don’t get past the first commandment in Exodus 20:3, “You shall have no other gods before me,” when I see I’ve already fallen short. For in all my math-ing of desired results, I’ve made an idol out of self-will, effort, and even performance. Working hard is a good thing, of course, and I don’t begrudge my driven personality. But I can’t put my faith in my try-hard tendencies, only in God’s sovereignty.

So, I think about a new calculation:

desired goal + consistent hard work = accepting the results God allows

And here I find that in God’s hands, “well enough” becomes more than enough — not because I finally nailed the outcome, but because I trusted Him with it. And friend, the same is true for you. Show up, give what you can, and let God handle the results. He isn’t asking you to be fantastic—only faithful.

Kristen loves helping women who are lonely for friends find their friendship groove so they can enjoy a more fun and fulfilling life. Visit here to connect with her and learn how she may be of help to you. 

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