We glorify the epic fail.
I’d like to think it is because many of us have never failed so badly in our life to receive such a label. Granted, there are worse fails than messing up a batch of cookies you saw on Pinterest.
I suppose I find myself a lot these days, moping around the neighborhood with a cup of coffee at hand, still wondering how this all happened so fast. Five years was an instant. The memories fast forward in my head like a VHS. The quality is about the same, as well.
Some days, I feel like a great big failure. I’m moving away from the place I called home. I’m leaving behind a community of amazing people. And a lot of my community resides elsewhere. In fact, all over the world.
My friend Jara has been keeping up with me since she was my coordinator for my travels in India back in 2007. She kept up with me and Hannah during our engagement, through marriage, and still supports me in the aftermath of such things.
She wrote me a letter, and I wrote her back. Her and her husband Kenley are some of the best kind of people I know. Truly.
I stayed with them when I was moving to Oregon, and we all still keep tabs on one another. (Plus, I just think Kenley is such a cool guy. Like, not cool. But like, when I think: ‘that dude is cool’, I think about Kenley. Straight up.
Jara emailed me early this morning saying this:
I had this thought for you while doing dishes last night – you didn’t
that’s it. be well. travel safely!
And I think I read it five times.
Tears well up. I sat and took a few deep breaths.
Was she right? Maybe. Yeah.
Yeah! Hell yeah!
And it knocked me down again.
I sat in my brown chair and let it sink in, like sticking a pen to paper and letting the ink absorb and spread.
I did not fail love.
Most days, I certainly think I did. I mean, that’s what happens when someone divorces you right? You failed.
you failed. you failed. you f@#!$@# failed.
A big red circle with an X crossing through it.
A loud ERRRR! sound. Like on Family Feud.
And then there was this grace that started to flow through me.
Words from a friend, gifted to her by a sink full of dishes. I am no stranger to dish therapy.
I am thankful she sent the word to me.
I didn’t fail love.
I worked hard for it.
For a second, I added a comma.
You didn’t fail, love.
And now it sounds like someone is talking to me. Someone who loves me and I am all of a sudden wanting a hug from this presence. Because who doesn’t like to be called love. What a term of endearment.
I heard it loud and clear.
It is okay to fail,
and you will inevitably fail at loving on a daily basis.
But what I needed to hear, was that me and love were still doing okay..
And you never know how or when a presence will find you and give you exactly what you needed.