Books I Wish I Had Read Earlier – Week 1, Failing Forward – Part 2:Application Article
By Dr. Joshua Wathanga
In my first post, I reflected on John Maxwell’s Failing Forward—a book I wish I had read much earlier in life. Its message is simple but transformative: failure is not final unless you quit.
This second article shares how that truth has shown up in my life—sometimes painfully, often redemptively. I hope these reflections remind you, as they’ve reminded me, that failure is not the end of the story—it is often the point where the real story begins.
📍 1. The Day I Failed—and Was Broken
I was 22 and in my final undergraduate year at the University of Nairobi. Until that point, life had been smooth. At secondary school, I was honoured as the most outstanding all-round student. And A-levels was a breeze. I was overconfident, academically gifted, and spiritually active—serving as a Christian Union leader through secondary, high school, and university.
But I coasted. I viewed study as optional, as something for those who didn’t have spiritual “work” to do. That pride would cost me. At university, I failed one paper—my first ever. Not in my first or second year, not even in my third year, but in the fourth and my final year. That one paper meant I couldn’t graduate with my classmates, some of whom I’d quietly viewed as “less capable.” I had to wait, resit the exam, and watch as others started working while I stayed behind. It was humiliating. The “mighty” had fallen. I had failed.
But that experience changed me.
Looking back, I now see that God was breaking me—not to destroy me, but to make me usable. Like a wild horse, I needed to be disciplined, humbled, and reoriented toward responsibility.
That failure became a watershed moment: I began to take preparation seriously. I became more disciplined. And I learned that real leadership cannot be built on raw talent alone—it must be forged through brokenness, responsibility, and maturity.
📍 2. Mr. Brown’s Question—and the Birth of Structure
A few years later, I was studying for my first master’s at the University of Edinburgh, United Kingdom. I had learned much from that earlier failure. But there was still more breaking to come.
My research supervisor was a renowned and exceptionally strict English professor—Mr. C.G.D. Brown. One day, I went to his office to ask a question about my research findings. He paused and stared at me. Then he said something I’ll never forget:
“Joshua, do you expect me to give you a worthwhile answer?”
“Yes, Sir” I replied.
“Then where is your notebook?”
It was piercing. He wasn’t just rebuking me for being unprepared. He was teaching me something deeper: that if you value wisdom, you prepare to receive it. From that moment, I became detail-oriented. My habit of always having a notebook, or a digital pad, of structuring my thoughts, of writing to clarify ideas—that began there.
Interestingly, I remember less from him academically. But the discipline of order, preparation, and respect for the process? That remains one of the most valuable gifts I received that early in life.
📍 3. Coming to America—and Overcoming Technological Shame
Fast forward to the early 1990s. I had just left being General Secretary of Fellowship of Christian Unions (FOCUS Kenya), where we had begun using basic computers with floppy disks. At the time, we were undoubtedly one of the most computer-literate organizations around! Now I was in the United States pursuing my MBA in Economic Development. But I hit another wall: every assignment had to be typed—and I could only type with one finger! In the computer lab, I watched a Thai classmate typing with incredible speed, fingers flying like a pianist over the keys. I realized I either had to learn fast—or drown slowly.
So, I humbled myself and took a part-time job in the computer lab, where I developed advanced computer skills. While helping others with technical issues, I also taught myself touch typing using a basic tutorial program. It worked—though I was still no match for my Thai classmate! In time, I became a confident touch typist, and my family soon followed.
That one decision empowered me to produce my own work quickly and professionally for years to come. Even when I later had executive assistants, I never relied on them to type my work. That discipline, born out of discomfort, became a lasting strength. Even today, at 68, I would rank in the top quartile for effective use of interactive digital and AI-powered tools — a competency that has served me particularly well in my consulting work with demanding bilateral and multilateral institutions.
🧠 Reflections Through My DISC Profile
Looking back, I see these stories through the lens of my DISC profile. I am what’s called an “Objective Thinker”: analytical, perfectionistic, and often cautious. I value accuracy and dislike ambiguity. I prefer to master things privately before displaying them publicly.
These stories reveal how I’ve had to stretch my wiring.
- I learned to move beyond fear of failure (paralysis) into resilience.
- I moved from over-analysis to timely action.
- I embraced vulnerability—even public embarrassment—as a path to growth.
I didn’t change my core traits. But I learned to lead beyond them, especially when failure demanded it.
🗣️ Why This Matters for Leaders Today
In Kenya—and especially in the Church—we don’t talk about failure often enough. We hide it, mask it, or spiritualize it. But failure handled well can become the very forge of wisdom, compassion, and authority.
- Failure taught me discipline.
- Failure taught me humility.
- Failure taught me to listen, learn, and lead.
Maxwell calls this failing forward. I now call it God’s kindness in disguise.
🙋🏾♂️ When Failure Finds You
Have you failed publicly?
Been embarrassed, sidelined, or passed over?
Felt ashamed of not “finishing well”?
Please know: you’re not alone. And more importantly — you’re not finished.
God’s grace meets us in the very places we’d rather hide.
Failure isn’t the end. In fact, it may be the place where the real story begins — where self-sufficiency ends and God’s redemptive power takes center stage.
So let God use even this — the weakness, the loss, the shame.
In His hands, your greatest place of failure may yet become your strongest testimony.
🔄 Where Grace Meets Weakness
As I close, let me be honest: I’ve only shared three examples of failure here—not because they are the only ones, but because they are representative. Truthfully, I’ve failed more times than could fit in a single article—perhaps even in several books! Yet each failure became a classroom of grace.
One passage that has grounded me through these seasons is Paul’s reflection in 2 Corinthians 12. After pleading with God to remove a weakness, Paul received a different kind of answer:
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
“Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me… For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Cor. 12:9–10)
What a countercultural truth. In a world that celebrates strength and perfection, Paul embraced weakness, hardship, and even insults — because that’s where Christ’s power rested.
I’m learning to do the same.
Each of my failures — academic, personal, professional — has become a place where I’ve encountered God’s sufficiency. Where my strength ended, His began. That is why I now view failure not as disqualification, but as invitation: to depend more deeply, to lead more humbly, and to serve more redemptively. Failure has not been a detour — it’s been a discipleship pathway.
And though I’ve grown through many of them, God is not finished with me yet. Like Paul, I press on — because there is more to learn, more to become, and more to do.
“He who began a good work in you…” (Phil. 1:6)
💬 Keep Growing
Failure, as John Maxwell reminds us, is inevitable. But learning is a choice. Growth is a decision.
I’m still growing — and I hope you are too.
I’d love to hear your thoughts — or your story of failing forward. Please share them below
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