The Alamo,
which you, no doubt, remember, became part of Texas and American history on
March 6, 1836. About 4 a.m. that Sunday morning, Santa Anna’s troops breached
the mission walls, ending a siege lasting almost two weeks. The Alamo’s defenders killed during siege (sometimes
referred to as “the thirteen days to glory”) or, perhaps, executed shortly
after included William Travis, James Bowie, David Crockett, and about 200
others—Americans and Mexicans; men from Scotland, England, Ireland (about a
dozen), Germany, and Denmark. Most would
“die like a soldier[s] who never [forget] what is due to [their] own honor
& that of [their] country,” to borrow Travis’s famous and futile plea for
reinforcements.
In Texas
they’re larger-than-life heroes so it’s easy to forget they lost. But their loss helped Texas win the
revolution. The two weeks Santa Anna
spent capturing the Alamo and the two weeks he delayed in San Antonio allowing
his wounded and exhausted troops to recover, gave the Texian forces time to
prepare for their ultimate victory at San Jacinto six weeks later.
Sometimes we
must experience defeat before we can experience victory.
A humiliating loss
at tennis may prompt us to practice our forehand, backhand, and serve until we
can win, at least occasionally.
A young Moses
experienced defeat when he first attempted to help his people, the
Hebrews. He killed one of the brutal Egyptian
taskmasters; then tried to hide his body.
As Ian Thomas suggests, with all that sand around him Moses must have
left a toe sticking out. But that
failure led him to allow God to shape him into the liberator he would become.
Like Peter we
may experience defeat until we learn victory requires relying on Christ for
strength and boldness.
By God’s grace,
our defeats may be a prelude to victories.
Almost exactly
century before the Alamo’s fall (7 March 1736), John Wesley began his ministry in
the budding town of Savannah in what would become Georgia. He went home in
defeat: “I went to America to convert the Indians; but, oh, who shall
convert me,” the
failed missionary wrote.
But that
defeat revealed his spiritual poverty and prepared him to finally “trust…Christ
alone, for salvation.” He
would help initiate one of the most influential movements in modern church
history.
[If you regularly read this blog, I should mention I have just corrected an error in "October Madness," a post I wrote last year. Sorry about any confusion it may have generated.]
