Peter, the author, told a story about two men who drank to excess. Both of them believed they could stop whenever they wanted to, and had no problem. A friend named Bob challenged each of them to go sixty days without a drink, and he would give them a hundred dollars. One man barely scraped by, and Bob kept his word and gave him the cash. Then the drinker indulged in a sea of booze, getting more drunk than he had ever been. He believed he had won. The second man was shocked at how hard it was to avoid drinking, and began to sneak the leftovers in other people's glasses. He had believed he could stop whenever he chose, but now he was chagrined to realize that that was not true. He lied to Bob about it and when the sixty days were over Bob offered him a slap on the back and the hundred bucks. Yet he knew he had failed, and gave the money back. For the first time he realized his dependency, and began the long road to recovery. 

Peter explains that the first man actually lost, because he did not learn anything about his own weakness. He arrogantly believed he needed no help. He was just fine the way he was. The second man understood that he had failed and was ready to face his own inability to stop drinking, which was a far more valuable prize. 

When I think of the junctures in my life when I faced personal failure, pain comes up. I lost my temper with my husband, clung to resentments, hurled blame anywhere but in my own lap. But it was in those dark moments that I could no longer evade my own defeat. Self pride dissolved like a mirage. In the emptiness I was able to find humility. Perhaps it is like scooping out a pumpkin before you can perch a candle inside. If it is filled to the brim with slime and seeds, there is no room for light. 

And that has blessed me more than outward success ever could.