Finding Grace In Failure

“The ideal man bears the accidents of life with dignity and grace, making the best of circumstances.”

---Aristotle

Who among us has not failed? Whether large or small, we have all, at least once, experienced some sort of failure. I failed early and often in math class and still do. Essential addition and subtraction happen easily enough, and maybe even a little multiplication and fractions. When letters are added to mathematical equations, I am lost at C. Perhaps there is a point to algebra, calculus, and trig, but it has been my long-held belief that letters, the very building blocks of poetry and literature, should never be assigned values as crass and one-dimensional as numbers. Words have depth beyond an ocean and breadth beyond mountains. Words can paint a picture; all numbers will do is tell you is how many pages it will take.

Numbers are not the only area in which failure is my constant companion. I have two black thumbs and have managed to kill every plant that’s ever come my way. A cactus, a gift from a friend who traveled to Death Valley, keeled over barely a week after being placed on my kitchen windowsill. Cacti can survive extreme temperatures and a lack of water but put it next to sink that was mostly full of dirty dishes, and it’s game over. So be it, I can always wander over to my neighbor’s garden and snip a few lilacs and munch on a few heirloom tomatoes.

These kinds of failures are small, however, compared to the more significant parts of our lives where failure, with a capital “F,” can be devastating. I’ve raised three children and while it’s been somewhat of a success since none of them have written a tell-all book about what an awful mother I am, watching them reach for what they want, and sometimes fall short of their goals is excruciating. Whether it’s tryouts for a team, looking for a better job, the demands of college academics or other pursuits, failure has come to each of them. As a parent, all you can do is be there, as a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen and someone who can make the Lipton envelope soup and garlic bread when that’s all they want.

A recent article about some high school cheer team that took on kids that didn’t make the cut, but are now on the roster because of parent complaints got me thinking. Failure stinks. It’s hard, it’s demoralizing, and kids don’t always understand why. It’s also an excellent lesson, and it’s the way of the world. We all fail, in small ways and sometimes massive ways. While we might like to “snowplow” ahead of our kids and make sure their path is always smooth, that isn’t the best choice either. There will come a day, after college or whatever, when your kid has their first job. You can’t call them out sick to their boss. You can’t write a note saying that the weekly TPS report isn't done because Jack got back late from a lacrosse game. These children will be adults, and they have to figure it out eventually. So, is failure while they are still in the safe bubble of home a good thing? At some point, it changes from making a complaint to the coach or the teacher to, “This one is on you.” Can you ever stand back and watch them go down? At some point, we all have to say, “You’re screwed, and you better figure it out.” Finding that point is hard though.

I sound like a colossal crank, I know. So many parents would do anything to avoid their kid going down in flames (or getting a B on a test, which, in some homes, is the same thing) and launching the helicopter might work once or twice, but trust me, it’s not a solution. So, then what? Here’s what I think works. You give them every resource you’re able to provide. You give them good advice and support. You make sure they know you love them, no matter what. You tell them what they are good at, and then with a velvet-gloved iron fist, where they need to improve. If, after all that, they bonk? Oh well. Life is tough, and it’s almost never fair. Get used to it.  If they’ve had every opportunity possible, if they knew you were there for them, and yet something still didn’t work out? You look them in the eye and say, “Well, that sucks. Now what?” And then you step the heck away and let them figure it out.

Grace is often found in failure. Hope, renewal, and victory all come after something has gone wrong. Full disclosure, I think my children are amazing. Andy, George, and Devin are three of the best people I know, however, at some point, they have all failed. Personally, I think they are better for it, as am I.