What is failure?

At every turning point of my life, I’ve wrestled with that question. And when I look back, the moments I was most certain I had failed were the ones that ended up changing me, redirecting me, or giving me lessons I couldn’t have gotten any other way.

These past weeks, I’ve been sitting with that question again. Especially as it came time to tell people that I wasn’t going to continue with the relocation.

In some ways, it was the easiest decision in the world. My top value is my family. After weeks apart, I knew without a doubt I wanted to be back with them, in the place we called home.

But telling the story out loud brought me face-to-face with everyone else’s opinions of what failure means…..

“You’ve got to make it work. These are your earning years.”

“This is just a phase. You just need to be patient.”

“The job market is terrible. You’ll never find something else.”

And it hit me: the hardest part of answering the question what is failure - Is the work to not take on other people’s meaning of my story as truth.

Because if you looked from the outside, sure—our relocation might look like it failed. But inside, it was full of blessings:

• Our family of four under one roof again while my oldest was doing an internship.
• Exploring Texas together - Boots, BBQ, Bucee’s, & Rodeos
• Being close enough for extended family to drive to us & explore DFW

Those are gifts. Not failures.

And it’s not just in life where this shows up. I see it at work, too. People get so afraid of failing that they lose sight of reality. They spin stories about what it means, or what it could cost them, and then when deadlines slip or goals move, nobody names it.

But the truth is, the value of “failure” isn’t in avoiding it — it’s in what we do with it. The lesson. The adjustment. The continuous improvement that makes us stronger together.

If we’re too afraid to say we missed the mark, we also miss the chance to grow.

So, yes — failure stings in the moment. But over and over again, it has been the doorway to something better.

Failure doesn’t just end one story. It opens another. And that, I’ve learned, is always a blessing. So this season of being a Texan is forever in my heart and who knows what seeds that planted for our future.