I was in a rather daring mood one Saturday morning. I have learned that putting trust in my children in situations where they could fail is one of the best ways to build courage. And also one of the best ways to give me an anxiety attack.
My son and I were about to air up his bike tires. We have a little pump that connects to my car. The bike was in the garage and the car was outside in the driveway. Instead of me going out to move the car closer to the bike, I decided my son, age 12, should try it. It was only 20 to 30 feet away. All he had to do was start it, push the brake, put the car into drive, steer forward, step on the brake, and put it back into to park. Seemed simple enough, right?!? Plus, he would get a real thrill out driving the car himself.
With eager eyes, he jumped into the driver’s seat. He listened to my directions flawlessly. The car started, he pushed down on the brake, put the car into drive, and let it glide forward. He was doing great. Or, as my dad would say, “Cooking with gas!” While rolling forward he reached a hiccup. The car got stuck on a raise in the cement and stopped. I told him to (and this is where I should have stopped him) “Give it a little gas with the pedal.” He did it well. He continued to glide into the garage and then I told him “Okay. Hit the brake.” Then, the car sped up, ran through part of our storage shelves, and with a screech, came to an abrupt stop.
I immediately told my son to get out of the car. I jumped into the car and backed it out. Then I looked at my son. He had a shocked look, deep breaths of panic, and tears started to surround his eyes. Then I told him, “This is my fault, Peyton. I should have had you do this in an open area. I’m sorry.”
He replied, “Like Grandpa’s farm in Iowa?”
Then I replied, “Yes, that would have been much better.”
We looked at the accident. We had a busted support 2 x 4, a foot long scratch on the hood of the car, and completely demolished storage tote that held some of the kid’s play stuff. Other than that, we were lucky.
After a while, Peyton was still shaken. I could see the failure and embarrassment on his face. “I forgot which one was the brake,” he uttered disappointingly. He looked down as if he was expecting for me to yell or scold him.
I felt I easily could have yelled at him for the mistake he made, but that would put blame on a person that didn’t deserve it. I replied, “Peyton, this is my mistake. I put you into the car without much instruction. Actually, you did an amazing job hitting the brake after you figured out the other one was the gas pedal. You could have ran the car into the house. This could have been much worse! I think this was an easy lesson learned for both of us.”
He gave a slight grin then replied, “How would we have explained to Mom that the car went into the laundry room?”
“We wouldn’t! We would have got another car and drove to Mexico!” I replied jokingly. We both were laughing hysterically after that comment.
Seconds later, Maddox opened the garage door to the house and asked, “Something bad happen? I heard a skirt-skirt” (Maddox’s term for skidding sounds). Which was quite hilarious because he asked approximately fifteen minutes after the accident. He was probably caught up in a video game. Well, he would have rescued us eventually!
We spent the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon putting a new 2x4 up which was quite fun. I am somewhat handy, but don’t practice a lot, so it was something that the boys and I actually did together. We were finalizing things in the garage. The new 2x4 looked secure and we cleaned up a bit around the area. Everything looked normal again.
But there was still something left undone.
I backed the car out of the garage. About 20 to 30 feet. I shut the car off and closed the door. “Peyton,” I said with confidence, “Get in the driver’s seat.”
He looked at me with fright in his eyes. He said, “No, I’m not doing it again.”
“You have to redeem yourself. I can’t have you thinking you can’t drive. And I need to redeem myself too. I’m going to be in the car right next to you.” This is just like a running back in football. After they fumble the ball, the coach will often give the ball right back to the running back to get the player’s confidence back. I wanted to give Peyton the chance to get his confidence back.
With a lot of hesitation and nervous eyes, Peyton climbed into the driver’s seat. As promised, I was sitting right next to him. He started the car, pushed in the break, put the car into drive, and idled forward. We came to the same hiccup in the cement. “Give it a little gas,” I nervously said. He did it perfectly. We got to the same point in the garage where he sped up and before I could even say, “Hit the brake,” he had already done it. He threw the gear into park and I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Good job Peyton!” I exclaimed emphatically.
His eyes were beaming! He jumped out of the car and went into the house and yelled, “I did it!”
Maddox responded with, “Dad let you drive again? That’s crazy!”
Maybe it was a little crazy, but at least we didn’t have drive to Mexico!
A lot of us have a hard time getting out of our comfort zones. Being out of our zone is hard enough, even if we succeed. It is much harder to reach back in if we fail. We can stay there for a long time stewing on our failure, or we can jump right back into it. The great inspirational speaker and author Les Brown quotes, “Failure is not a destination; it’s an invitation for unforeseen victories.” Failures are mistakes. Mistakes are a learned way not to do something. Mistakes are correctable. Correcting mistakes is growth. Growth leads to success. So, without failures, success is hard to come by. Please hear this:
Failure is a good thing.