Saturdays have a way of making you honest. Not dramatic, just honest.
It’s the day when you finally slow down enough to look back at the week, the month, or even your childhood, and admit a few things you’ve known all along. Like this one:
Some things just weren’t meant for me.
Basketball was one of them, obviously. But there were others.
Like the time I tried to jump off a swing and land like the cool kids. They stuck the landing like Olympic gymnasts. I landed like a man discovering gravity for the first time.
Or the time I tried to ride a skateboard. I thought, How hard can it be? Turns out the skateboard had its own opinion. It shot out from under me like it was late for work, and I sat down faster than I’ve ever sat down in my life.
Or the time I tried to climb a rope in gym class. The taller kids went up that rope like they were born in the jungle. I grabbed it, pulled once, and realized my arms had filed a formal complaint.
But here’s the thing: I tried. And trying, even when it ends in failure, is part of what makes life fun.
Saturdays remind me of that. They remind me that not every attempt has to be successful to be meaningful. They remind me that some of the best stories come from the things we couldn’t do. They remind me that God isn’t grading us on performance, He’s walking with us through the process.
And honestly, some of my failures have become the memories that make me laugh the hardest. They’re the stories my kids love hearing. They’re the moments that shaped me more than the things I actually succeeded at.
So today, on this easy Saturday, here’s my encouragement:
Celebrate the things you tried and failed at. They’re part of your story. They’re part of your joy. They’re part of your growth. And they’re proof that you were brave enough to try.
Besides… if everything had gone perfectly, I’d have far fewer good stories to tell.
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