I have decided to undergo writing about something very foreign to myself.
Much of the time I feel like a teeny, tiny, scared little wimp hiding in the corner. That has been my M.O. for most of my life. Never the first one to cliff dive or try a new trick on the trampoline, I would describe myself as cautious, careful, calculated, and concerned. All these C’s add up to one big unCool.
Lately, something has been stirring inside me to write about my failures.
Largely, because bravery is something I have been churning around in my head a lot these days. My kids need to see me be brave if they are ever going to try and be brave themselves. These beautiful children I am raising are such a huge motivation. I want them to try new things, take adventures and risks, and live life fully. But the hardest part is knowing I must model it for them.
Boy, have I failed.
Not like years ago, this year. Not small, but huge. My checkered past includes so many things I won’t go in to in depth, but let me just say, I have made some giant mistakes.
Take for instance, this space you are reading. My blog. My very heart and soul. Seven years I started this space. It was something I loved. But along the way it became something I hated. Soon I found myself on social media way too much, consumed by what people thought of me, and curating my life for everyone BUT my God and family. I had to quit, and quit for a long while. I had lost a sense of myself and why I started writing to begin with. I failed.
Then, along the way, I got pregnant with a second child.
I lost that sweet baby. And while deep in my gut I know it wasn’t my fault, everything in my post-partum grieving process told me it WAS my failure to bear.
Next, I started a small business. Without going into too much detail, I spent two years pouring my heart and soul into it to realize it was not my true passion. Once again, I had failed.
But do you know what is crazy?
While I keep failing, I sense something stirring in my heart that is wild, beautiful, and wonderful. I may fail, but the love of my Lord and his strength never fails. This year, in particular, He has set before me new and incredible opportunities in ministry I would have never imagined in my wildest dreams. Closed doors have given me and my life space for new open doors, leading me down pathways that completely and perfectly align with my talents, gifts, and desires.
My failures have 100% set me up for something new I am confronting: bravery.
Seven years ago I would have NEVER written this post.
Four years ago I would have NEVER known how precious and fragile life is and how I MUST fight for the dreams of my family and the will of God in my life.
And two years ago, I would have been too frazzled and stressed out to realize what I really wanted for my life, or, what God wants for my life and what I have been wired for.
My failures have given me something precious: vision, direction, perseverance, and dare I say, the desire for bravery.
Bravery, to me, doesn’t look like much more than a person willing to do something even though they are terrified. As an adult, and a perfectionist, how often do I put myself in that situation anymore? I can tell you, almost never, unless I am forced to.
Yet, I ask my kids every day to do something they are terrified to do but must in bravery. Getting a vaccine, for example. Making a new friend at school. Getting up in front of the class to do a speech.
My failures in my adulthood have been some of the greatest blessings I could have EVER asked for.
Proverbs 3:5-6 Trust the Lord with all your heart, and don’t depend on your own understanding. Remember the Lord in all you do, and he will give you success.