Failure or success? You choose!

I let my fingers slide over the rough texture of the certificate. It is printed in gold: “Trinity College London”. “Elize Swart is awarded Level 3 Certificate in Graded Examination in Music Performance - Grade 8 Piano”, stares at me in black letters. The next two words humbly proclaim “with Merit” in smaller print. Really? Is this it? For my entire adult life, I have longed to have this certificate in my hand. The first time I did this exam to get hold of this sought-after certificate, I was 17.

One year before I started to prepare for the exam, I received a file filled with music from the musical ’Annie Get Your Gun’. I started learning during the summer holidays and immersed myself in the music of Irving Berlin. It was not an easy task to master the characteristic rhythm of this musical. Except for a dramatic overture, the music was written as an accompaniment and sounded as such. My grandmother politely asked me if I would care to play something with a tune, as if the music didn’t have it! Until the time of performance, I spent more time at school after school than at home. I loved every minute of it despite the pressure of keeping up with academics in between. At the end of the evening for this accomplishment, I received a bouquet of flowers, and a warm applause. I walked with my head in the clouds for days...

Sadly, I didn’t remember much of the warmth of that evening when I prepared for my first attempt of my practical Gr. 8 exam in piano. I did not feel greatly confident. Looking back, I know I was simply ill-prepared - I needed more time on the technical work. It was exam ’suicide’ to enter for the early session of the year. When I failed a second time, shame attached itself comfortably in my inner being. It seemed that a career in music was for the supremely talented only. I allowed these so-called failures to define my musical ability completely; all past ’successes’ were archived deeply and not retrieved soon. When I received a reward for doing the accompaniment of the musical with excellence, I felt like a hypocrite because the joy the reward should have brought was choked by a deep-felt embarrassment of my failures.

During my first year at university, I attended many lunch-hour concerts; – the music students enjoyed an opportunity to showcase their arduous work. After such a concert, I would aimlessly wander through the buildings in the music department. The cacophony from all the occupied and unsuccessfully sound-proofed rehearsing chambers reached my ears to aggravate my internal agony. I felt isolated and abandoned – I didn’t belong where all the music was happening, but I also didn’t belong in the maths department where I was studying!

Through the years - in moments of bravery - I embarked on continued piano lessons with the dream of attempting the elusive success of passing the Grade 8 exam. Unfortunately, my many repeated endeavours were not paired with patience to wait for the appropriate time to optimise the likelihood of “success”.

To cut to the chase: After many years of trying other avenues than music – anything from maths tutoring to programming - I finally decided to take piano lessons again and to register for the same exam, once again. The following year turned out to be very tough; not only was my mother’s health deteriorating, but the husband of a close friend was also severely ill and passed away the day before I was to play my exam. It shook me - I entered the exam room numbed by emotional exhaustion. My mother passed away two weeks later. My heart was as vulnerable as can be, and then I received my exam results: I had failed, once again.

I was devastated! “God, this isn’t fair!”, my thoughts yelled as I curled on the bed, unable to contain my own emotions. It felt as if my dreams were shattered into a thousand pieces.

However, as I worked through the debris of this third failed attempt alongside the loss of my mother, I heard God’s Spirit gently nudging me forward and onwards, out of my pit of emotional turmoil. I continued with piano lessons, whilst getting deeper into the same material as the previous year for another practical exam. For the first time, my thoughts were filled with realistic expectations. I diligently continued to work hard, but I allowed myself to get lost in the music, enjoying my practise more than ever.

Now I stand here with the certificate in hand. The failed attempts never defined me. Does the ‘success’ of the certificate contribute to who I am? No! It doesn’t change who I am at all; my identity is who God says I am!

Did I truly fail, or did I instead learn lessons, develop skills and have positive encounters with people and God along the way? Did it change me in a godly way? Yes, it did! These experiences are part of my journey and my testimony! The world care too much about failures and successes, but don't you dare! All the events in our lives, no matter how tough or negative, add to experiences that God will use to facilitate our growth and expand His Kingdom! If you haven't achieved what you hoped for, it is an opportunity to re-evaluate your goals, and implement the lessons learned.

Failure? Never, unless you choose it to be that.