Achieving Success through Failure: A Year in America

August 7, 2005

My marriage, the birth of my older children and the adoption of the twins use to be the happiest days of my life. I risk exposing my shallow side by revealing what is now, without question, the happiest day of my life.

The day the twins got potty trained is without a doubt the happiest day of my life. And you can say anything you want about the excesses of American capitalism, but without Care Bear panties, we would not have achieved this great victory, so God bless corporate America.

But it does lead me to a question that has been bugging me all year: Will someone explain to me the ad about the bear hugging the toilet paper? The only thing I can think of is how many rolls he will need, and I’m sure that wasn’t the point of the ad, but American marketing just doesn’t make sense to me anymore, so help me out, ok?

When I got on the plane from Kenya to America, I prayed that I would get closer to God. I had felt that I had been able to accomplish some good things, but I was just busy doing stuff. I wanted to get closer to God.

What I meant by that is that I would have longer quiet times, and in them, God would serve up a big load of Himself, and I would consume it somewhat in the manner of a large hot fudge sundae.

What I learned is to be more specific in how I prayed. I did grow closer to God this year, but it came from failing at almost everything I touched.

I got turned down by over one hundred foundations trying to get funding for computers and school lunches.

I worked part time for a wonderful company who paid me very generously for the work I did, but about the fifth time I was interviewing a consultant and one of the twins would plead: `Daddy, could you PLEASE give me a wipe?’ was the day I realized I wasn’t meant to work from home and that I was never very productive for them.

I really wanted to take my kids to Disneyworld, so I took a part time commission job which should have been a natural for me.

I didn’t earn a single commission. We didn’t go to Disneyworld.

I started and finished a masters in college counseling, but it was harder and took much more time than I ever expected. It ate up much of the time I hoped to use to see more of my friends.

In all my failure, I turned to the Lord and He met me in my despair. I grew closer to Him because of my failure. I am returning to Kenya as a different man. I am a broken man.

I discovered that my bottom line was that I liked writing the checks, but it was hard to receive monies. I didn’t really want to depend on anyone.

And I failed. In the midst of it, I confessed my failings to Him, and He showed me that I needed Him and all my friends.

Which is Christianity 101 and should be obvious to anyone who has been a Christian as long as I have. But maybe the wonder of being 50 is wisdom will begin to thrust itself on me.

In all the failure, we still received the funding for 6-8 computer centers, and to increase the number of children we feed to almost ten thousand a day. I can’t be anything but grateful for that. We didn’t hit the goals we set, but we gave it our best shot.

I can’t end this on a downer. There are so many people to thank that we won’t thank anyone individually in this letter; it would be like a phone book. I would say we are grateful beyond words, but then my friend Ben Downs would gleefully give thanks that he found a way to shut me up.

I can’t repay you all, but I do have something that I think is of value to share with you.

In Kenya, the sun rises at 6am and sets at 6pm. There are no long summer nights.

I want to tell you: there is nothing better than an American summer. Going for walks with my children in the evening, taking the twins for their first fireworks and baseball game (Why do they all wear HATS?) and eating ice cream with Nancy was such a wonderful gift.

Life in America is so busy. Let this be my gift to you: there is nothing sweeter than an American summer. Take time to enjoy a little of it before it goes away.

Your pal,

Steve Peifer