Finding Your Identity In A Pinterest World

Monday, October 27th 2014

How many of you deal with imperfections? How many of you feel guilty for having those imperfections? And how many of you feel pressure from social media to get rid of those imperfections and become the "Perfect Pinterest.....?"(You can fill in the blank).

For me...I deal with all three of those things, and on a daily basis. It's crazy really, how you can literally create your "perfect" life using pictures and phrases and "boards" and in reality your life can look nothing like those images. Now I understand the whole concept of creating a "Vision Board," believe me, I have one myself. It's important to envision the life that you want to live someday: the car you want to drive, the house you want to live in, and the clothes that you want to wear. It's fun even, but where do you draw the line? I mean, when do you stop fantasizing about the future and begin to live in the present? I find myself so easily getting caught up in my "ideal" Pinterest World that I begin to lose sight of what's actually in front of me. It's not even the materialistic things that draw me in, it's this image that Pinterest projects. Whether you're a mom, single, or in a committed relationship Pinterest projects a specific image for each of these stages of life. This image enhances how we "should" be living our lives, therefore shedding light on all the ways in which we aren't actually living those kinds of lives. Make sense?

I remember thinking before I became a mom that in order to achieve my ideal image I needed to stay in shape, wear name brand clothes, get a good job, and maintain upstanding social credit with my peers. Now I can't help but laugh because not only do I struggle with the desire to maintain all of those said "credentials," but I also desire to achieve the many other "requirements" that come with being a wife AND a mother.  I still have the desire to maintain my appearance, social "cred," and profession, all the while juggling the 945 other things that my many "hats" require of me. But because I have this social stigma in my head that has been fueled by such sites as Pinterest, Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, etc I somehow look at my CRAZY life and think...I should be doing more. As if all the things that I'm already doing aren't good enough, or perfect enough...I somehow believe that I'm not enough.

**Side Note: You do know that most of those pictures you see on Pinterest of all those food recipes are actually glued in place just to make it look perfect for that moment. So when your Pinterest recipe doesn't turn out as pretty, or tasteful, just remember...you forgot the GLUE! 

I recently found myself in a situation in which I began to believe this lie that told me I wasn't good enough and as stupid as this may sound to all of you, it's sometimes simple things like this that can stop us in our tracks. The story goes a little something like this:

As the autumn leaves began to fall I started noticing all the cute pictures people were posting of their finely decorated porches and living rooms on Facebook and Instagram. And as I continued to scroll through my newsfeed I began feeling shame. I looked out of my finger smudged windows to my patio and saw what was left of my pathetic assortment of flowers, wilting away, untouched by the sun and rain. I then looked back at the picture up on my screen of this woman's beautiful porch, covered with festive mums of all sizes and colors, with pumpkins that lined the stairway leading to the elegantly decorated door with a wreath wrapped in colorful leaves. Can you just imagine that? If you can't...it looked a little like this...

I grimly glanced back at my own patio and felt shame for the lack of attention I'd given to it. I began visualizing all the ways in which I could spruce up the space a bit and immediately set out to buy some mums to fill my antique ceramic crocks. After arriving at the store, I realized just how expensive mums were and settled on buying just one (I made sure I picked out the one with the most blooms on it though). I thought to myself I can purchase this one plant and split it into two when I get home and have two instead of one! In my head I thought it was the most clever plan ever created.

When I returned home I got right to work. It wasn't long into my plan that I realized I didn't have any soil to fill my pots...what to do, what to do I thought. Oooo! There's construction happening next door, I can just sneak over and scoop up some dirt that they just dug up!! Perfect plan Tessa! So I did just that and as I transferred the freshly dug dirt into my "cutsie" crock I realized just how thick and heavy and clumpy this stuff really was. Oh well, I thought and kept on working. After I had transferred a sufficient amount of dirt I began to "split" my single mum. Have any of you tried splitting a mum before? If not...let me give you some advice...DON'T try to split a mum...they literally won't split apart as nicely as you might imagine. So here I am, "splitting" (more like massacring) this mum when I begin to realize that, oh sweet, I just separated a whole chunk of this plant from the root source and basically killed the entire thing. 

So I had to think quickly on my feet, what was I going to do? My husband was going to be annoyed that I'd firstly spent money on another plant that was likely to be dead next week, and secondly that I'd already killed half the plant within the first 5 minutes of having it. Ok...I'm just going to scrap that chunk and save what I can of the big portion of the plant and just settle with having one mum on my patio instead of two, I could live with that. By the time I placed the mum into the finely dug "top soil" (that I'd borrowed) I realized that the dirt had pretty much settled and there was no nice way I was going to fit this plant into this crock. So with all my might I thrusted the remainder of the mum into the pot and called it a day. Two weeks later and this is what my mum looks like....

Those are dead flowers if you couldn't quite see. 

Needless to say, I don't have a green thumb and my porch never turned out the way I'd envisioned. It actually never even came close to the beautiful porch I'd seen on Facebook. But does this change anything about me? Does this make me look different to everybody else? No...probably not. Odds are, people probably never looked at my porch before or thought that it needed sprucing up in the first place. The fact that I couldn't "adequately" decorate my patio doesn't make me less of a mom, wife, or person...it simply doesn't. The fact of the matter is...I only wanted to decorate my patio because I felt like that was what I needed to do in order to fulfill a specific area of my role as a housewife. I'd somehow mustered up this idea in my head that that was part of my responsibility and duty. Just because I'd seen other people doing it I somehow assumed that I needed to do it as well. But why? Where was this coming from?

The source of this lie, this lie that tells us that we aren't pretty enough, perfect enough, or "filtered" enough is coming from the world and the world's view is constantly telling us that we can never be and will never be enough. So why do we continue to believe the world? What's our motivation?

Honestly, I sometimes think about other mom's or wives that I know and wish that I could be more like them. I wish that I had their laid back nature, or their sense of peace amidst the chaos. I continuously compare all the little things that I seem to lack with all the big things that they seem to possess and I begin to beat myself up. I wish I could play guitar like that one worship leader, or have authority like that one speaker. I wish I could cook like my one friend, or show hospitality like my other girlfriend....I'm constantly battling with these ideas in my head, these ideas that tell me I'm not "Pinterest-y" enough or artsy enough. 

I'm gonna be honest here...I have no patience for the little arts-and-crafts that Pinterest always recommends for "stay-at-home" moms and I feel bad about that because I see all the pictures of all the moms completing these artsy, fun crafts with their children or on their own and I think....wow, they have so much patience and they are so creative....they MUST be able to do it all. 

Am I being a little dramatic? Maybe. But the truth is this...I never feel good enough. And I'm guessing that I'm not alone in this dilemma. You see...there are things that I do really well, and then there are things I do really poorly. But the fact of the matter is... I'm not Superwoman and I will never be able to do all the things that Pinterest suggests that I do. This is my reality. But the fortunate thing for me AND for you is that God didn't create me to be the best at everything (can you imagine if we were each perfect at every single thing we put our minds too?!), He created me to shine in the areas in which He created purpose for my life. I am here for a specific purpose, you are here for a specific purpose and each of the roles we play are crucial in fulfilling those given convictions that the Lord has placed so purposefully in our hearts. 

 I am going to be fulfilled knowing that I may not be perfect in every area of life. I may not be as artsy as the mom next door, or as laid back as the mom with the 6 kids in the grocery store but I do know that I have specific "talents" that the Lord wants me to excel in and that is not something I should take for granted. We each have specific talents that the Lord wants us to excel in and if we are constantly grappling about all the things that we aren't instead of all the things we are, we are insulting our perfect Maker. You are special, you are flawless, you are perfect and you are made in the image of our Father. Remember that the next time you walk into your friends immaculate home for a playdate and wonder where in the heck they found the time to not only clean their beautiful house but craft a wonderfully delicious lunch as well.  Odds are there is something about you that they wish they could have as well. 

The Power of Making Mistakes

Wednesday, October 16th 2014

Well folks...it's been about two weeks since our go at potty training and I'm happy to report that things are still "dry" in the Kirby house. Although going #2 has been our latest struggle, we are taking each day at a time. Patience please Jesus!

When trying to decide what I was going to write about for this blog post I felt clueless. I felt like I had nothing good or meaningful to say so I kept on holding off and as I continued to do so, I continued to feel that there was nothing in my life that was worth writing about. I started to feel discouraged and hopeless. My whole desire is to reach out to other women, mothers, and just people in general, and share life with them, but I felt like I had nothing of value to share. As my dread continued to sabotage my feelings of joy I heard the Lord say..."you are enough Tessa. You have enough. And what you have I want you to share."

It was at that moment that I knew that even though, I didn't know what exactly it was that I was supposed to share, He was going to give me the words to write. So here I am...sitting in the peace and quiet as my now TWO year old daughter sleeps soundly and the gentle kicks from my precious baby boy sooth me and even though I don't know what it is that I'm going to say next I know that God will use my words to glorify His Kingdom in some way, shape, or form. So bare with me as I explore this vulnerable state of unknown and have grace on me...PLEASE!

I've recently returned home from Michigan where I spent the last week visiting my parents and sisters (for those of you who don't know, I have three older sisters: one that lives in Michigan and two that live in Nashville, TN and this time around I was lucky enough to be at home the same time as a sister visiting from Tennessee). And it was during my stay there that I encountered a lot of parenting...."firsts," I should say.

You see, whenever I venture up to the great state of Michigan I usually do so on my own, without my husband and I'll normally stay for a minimum of a week. I feel so blessed and humbled to have the luxury of spontaneously traveling at a moments notice but I'm not gonna lie...traveling alone has its moments as well. While there, we explored the pumpkin patch, attended a live concert, hosted dance parties, ate lots of yummy and delicious food, and played nonstop with cousins. 

It was also there that we experienced numerous sleepless nights, tantrums, uncontrollable and unnecessary screaming (at 2 in the morning I might add), pooping issues, a fever of 104 and worst of all...an ear infection (which probably caused all of the above but I was too naive to realize till the last day I was there). And it was during those moments that I felt the most challenged and stretched in my parenting then I had ever before. 

Maybe you can all relate with me when I say that in life you often have to make some mistakes before you can figure out how to do things right. My entire life I've always tried to do the "right" thing and I've always tried to follow the path the God has laid out for me but the truth is...I haven't always succeeded. There have been many times in which I've failed to accomplish the many goals I've set for myself and that hasn't been an easy reality to face. It has been especially challenging in my role as a parent, knowing that daily I'm making mistakes and praying to God that in the end His grace will cover them. 

It was in there, in Michigan, that I felt as though the only thing I could do was make mistakes...and at the expense of my daughter. You see, I've never dealt with an ear infection, I've never dealt with my daughter screaming uncontrollably in the middle of the night, I've never dealt with navigating the health of my child and doing it alone and I've never dealt with feeling like there was absolutely nothing I could do to make the pain go away. And so I preceded to make mistake, after mistake, after mistake (at least that's what it seemed like). 

There was one night there that I thought I was literally going to lose my sanity. Rozalyn wouldn't go to sleep at her normal hour of 7:30 PM and there wasn't a trick in the book that I hadn't already tried to lull her to sleep. I rocked her, sang her her favorite lullaby, rubbed her back and arms, laid down next to her, gave her a bottle...you see what I mean. And eventually I just gave up...I was so frustrated with the hours I'd spent to do absolutely nothing and I knew, emotionally I couldn't do one more thing. So I did the only thing I hadn't already tried: I tucked her in one last time, told her it was time to go "na-night" and walked out. Of course the screaming followed and the yelling of "ma-ma!" and I sat in the room next to hers with tears in my eyes praying to my Father that she would go to sleep! 

After a little while, my mom came upstairs and offered to take her while I rested. I'm sure at this point I looked like a hot mess but I was so frustrated that I told my mom just to leave her. I don't know if any of you have ever felt that way towards your child when they don't do exactly what you want them to...like go to bed on time! But for me, I was so enraged at the sheer fact that I had done everything in my "mommy power" and it still wasn't good enough. My precious mother practically insisted that she take her and I rest as much as I possibly could. There was nothing in me that could fight back and so I willingly submitted and laid down to rest for the night. 

Well that nights rest quickly dwindled and two hours later I was up in action, soothing Rozalyn as she screamed uncontrollably. My bed made for one soon became a bed for two and the tossing and turning of the young child next to me allowed for little to NO sleep. As I struggled to lay my mind to rest, I finally felt myself doze off. It wasn't long after that the moaning began which soon turned into screaming and there was nothing I could do to console her. I felt my heart sink as the reality of this long night set in and I waved my white flag in surrender. I guess I could deal with some "late night" cartoons...even if it was 3:30 in the morning and let's just be honest, there are never any GOOD cartoons on at that hour. So we headed downstairs and kept busy by munching on graham crackers and drinking chocolate milk, watching who knows what on Disney channel. About an hour later I cautiously asked Rozalyn if she was ready to go back to bed and to my surprise she answered "yes." It took about a half hour for the squirming helpless body to quiet and it wasn't long after that I felt myself sink into a deep slumber. 

One thing I can vividly remember from that night is that I kept asking the Lord for patience, and understanding. I knew there was nothing that I could do physically, or even emotionally to make things go any differently but I knew that the Father's heart longed for His daughter to walk vicariously in His perfect peace, and understanding and I knew that He longed for me to simply ask for it. To my sweet surprise I actually felt the Lord grant me just that. As I worked to sooth Rozalyn to sleep I felt my anger leave me and in its place came a sudden sense of joy. 

Joy? Joy, Tessa? How could you be feeling JOY in the middle of the night with a cranky two year old and no husband to take turns with?! 

Believe me, I was asking myself the same exact question. But there was something valuable about that night. Something that gave me purpose and strength. Maybe it was the fact that I was surviving the seemingly impossible. Or maybe it was the fact that although this time spent with Rozalyn was used to constantly calm and sooth her, it was time nonetheless. Time that I got to spend with my precious daughter who needed nothing more than her mother in that exact moment. 

The next morning I awoke early to the sound of my daughters screams yet again, and I sheepishly scooped her up in my arms and headed downstairs. When I reached the kitchen my mom and dad sat with their cups of coffee (looking well rested I might add, while I wore my crazy hair in a side pony, with yoga pants and a baggy shirt that barely stretched over my growing belly) and they looked at me with sincerity in their eyes and proclaimed, "Tessa, you are doing an amazing job." (They obviously didn't say it in unison because that would have been a little too "rehearsed" but you know what I mean). And it was exactly what I needed to hear to get through that moment. I didn't know what I was going to feel like the rest of that day but I knew that in that exact moment I was doing a good job, I was succeeding. 

After all the mistakes I had made during that trip, I finally felt like I was doing something RIGHT, something my daughter actually needed and I was satisfied. You see, even though I had made mistake, after mistake, after mistake on that trip the Father granted me the assurance that His grace would cover it and I have no shame in that. I learned two very valuable lessons during that trip...

1. I can't do this parenting gig alone.

2. The men and women who do...are SUPER (freakin') HERO'S!

We each have the power to make mistakes...we all know we are going to make them but it's what we do with them that can determine the value to which we hold in our roles as parents. Whether you are a single mom, single dad, stay at home mom, or working parent you play a significant role in your child's life and there are gonna be times that you have no idea what you're doing (I've experienced only a small fraction of this compared to a lot of you) but the Lord desires to grant you the peace and understanding that you need to get through each day. The truth is...we have a Father that longs to lavish His love on His children, and there is nothing that we can do to make Him love us any less or any more. We are HIS children and He is well pleased with us. 

"Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you your heart's desires. Commit everything you do to the Lord. Trust him, and he will help you. He will make your innocence radiate like the dawn, and the justice of your cause will shine like the noonday sun. Be still in the presence of the Lord, and wait patiently for him to act." Psalm 37:4-7 

28 Weeks in counting...woah!

I definitely do NOT claim to have this whole parenting thing down....I promise! I have a lot to learn in my lifetime but the words that the Lord has given me I long to share with all of you. My hope is that you are encouraged and enlightened by each of my blog posts. It is such an honor to share life with each of you. xoxo

When Life Gives You M&M's

Thursday, October 2nd 2014

Where do I begin? Some of you may have already been informed by me or through social media that this past week was potty training week. Oh yes...it's as good as it sounds let me tell you. I have literally been dreading this moment in time since the day I first became a mother. I remember sighing a breath of relief whenever I heard a mother talking about potty training her 2 year old or 3 year old, because in my head that day wouldn't come for a very long time. Well folks...that day came knockin' on my door all to quickly and I did NOT want to answer it.

It's funny really...how something like potty training can teach you something of value in your own life, something that you maybe didn't even realize was lingering in your own subconscious.

A couple months ago was when it all really started...the question that is: "so when do you think you're going to start potty training?" Every time I heard it I clenched my teeth. Ugh. Such an awful question. Yet each time I smiled and replied with something like..."well, hopefully before this next baby arrives!"

You see, in my head that time frame sounded logical...get one out of diapers before the next one has to live in them for the next two years. Cut on costs, save the environment, blah, blah, blah. All those logical sounding things right? But when it actually came to it, when I had to face this potty training reality I started to second guess myself.

Oh maybe she can survive being in diapers a little longer...a lot of kids do! She's not complaining about her diaper that much, maybe she's not ready. Don't fix what isn't broker right?! These are all the things that I continued to tell myself as time wore away. It wasn't until about two weeks ago that I discovered where my lack of urgency really stemmed from when it came to potty training and it wasn't until I truthfully sought out my own heart that I humbly recognized the issue.

You see, my despise for potty training didn't come from all the horror stories I'd heard from other moms; it didn't come from some buried horrific experience in my own life.

 No. This opposition most definitely came from my complete and utter fear of failure.

As moms, we are in charge of a lot of things: getting the kids bathed, dressed, and fed each morning, whipping the buggers from their nose, tying their shoes, packing their lunches, teaching them their ABC's, etc. And while those things have to be done, it does not take away from the fact that they are incredibly hard to do. I mean I cannot tell you how many days a week I stay in my ugly white robe till 10 in the morning because I haven't found the time to put on actual clothes (if you know me well enough you can picture exactly what I'm talking about). Granted this post is not a pity party for me but rather a glimpse into the struggles AND fears that us moms are faced with each day.

Let me just try to put things into perspective:

When your child shows up late to a school event, whose fault is it? When your child still has their pajamas on when they show up to their play date, whose fault is it? When your child bullies another child at school or at the park, whose fault is it? The answer to all of those questions is the same; it's your fault. You are the parent. You are responsible for the actions and or inactions of your child right?

Well...that isn't entirely true, but society sure makes it seem that way don't they? And so here I am, faced with this incredible fear that if I aim to potty train my daughter and she doesn't quite grasp the concept then I've somehow failed her (now that sounds a little ridiculous as I type it out but it's the honest truth) and I am held responsible for that particular inadequacy on her behalf.

All jokes aside, I'm sure there are many of you right now, pinpointing my own insecurities in life as a wife and mother and wish to advise me on how to best deal with situations pertaining to failure and how it's necessary to experience failure in life. While others that are reading this, may be carrying the same burden. We all have our struggles and this is my greatest one. Fear of Failure.

So after wrestling with my own self conflict and finally getting over my initial shock that this is actually going to happen, I set the day. I began to tell my family and friends because Lord knows that I needed the accountability. There was no backing down now. As "dooms day" slowly approached I followed the "Potty Training Boot Camp" rules to a "T."

1.  Let her pick out her very own undies at the store
2. Let her pick out her favorite salty snack
3.  Let her pick out her favorite treat
4.  Let her pick out her favorite drink

You get the picture......

I called my sister for any last words of advice (since she had already accomplished Potty Training Boot Camp two times) and I scribbled any lasting notes I thought might make a difference. I had it allllll under control. I was prepared, I was ready! What could go wrong?? 

Well the day finally came and I crawled out of bed as early as I could manage before Rozalyn woke up, made my (precious) coffee and silently spoke one of my many daily prayers:

"Lord, make my love for others and for all people grow and overflow. Make my heart strong, blameless, and holy as I stand before you, my Father." And with all the faith I could muster, I slowly sank to my knees and asked the Lord for patience during this new adventure...endless patience. It was then that I heard it.....

"MOM! MOMMA!!!" 

It was beginning. It was JUST beginning. 

With hesitation in each step,  I headed down the hallway to her room and smiled as I entered. She looked at me and screamed just like the morning before and threw her arms up in excitement, while I squirmed tirelessly on the inside. You see, to her it was just another day...there was nothing special about this day, nothing out of the ordinary. And so I picked her up and asked for the first time of MANY...."do you have to go potty Rozalyn?" 

Now I'm not going to go into details on the method I followed but I will tell you this much...they advise that you (pretty much) lock yourself in your house for 3 days straight and I'm telling you folks, none of my preparation could prepare me for what was in store for me during these next few days. I'm not sure which day was worse, the first or the second. My sister warned me that the second was worse but I think I'd have to say that the first day took the cake. It went a little something like this....

After our first unsuccessful trip to the toilet I began feeding her all sorts of salty snacks to get her to drink plenty of fluids. The idea behind that is that she would have to go potty more often right??? Wrong. Well for my daughter at least. Two and a half hours past by without even a tinkle!! This was not how I imagined this going. My sister had said that the first day they have the most accidents and here I was shoving fluids down her throat and I couldn't even get her to have ONE!! I scrambled to the phone and called my sister...was I doing something wrong!? She laughed and chuckled at the strangeness of the situation and reassured me, "it's gotta come out sometime right?" I hung up the phone bound and determined to get this girl to pee...whether that be all over my kitchen floor or in the toilet it was going to happen. 

Every trip to the toilet consisted of me hopping up and down, screaming in excitement as I acknowledged how significant it was that she even be sitting on the toilet; I then handed her an M&M and told her next time she goes potty on the toilet she can have 3 M&M's. Well apparently that bribe meant nothing to her and she soon caught on to the fact that every time she just sat on the toilet she could have a piece of candy. This little escapade turned into a "fun" game for her and I was left the fool  running hot laps up and down the hallway every time she cried "POTTY!" It wasn't long till our dry run ended and the fluids started flowing. 

The first accident wasn't bad because it happened outside (no clean up), but the second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh...........eleventh accident weren't as "clean" and I thought by the middle of the day that I was needing to map out plan B. By the time nap time rolled around I was thanking the heavens...maybe there would be some sort of turn around once she woke up, I thought. Well I'm pretty sure she was just as worn out as I was because she slept for 3 hours that day and I was more than grateful for the extra rest. When 3 PM rolled around it was game time again and I was thankful when her next potty trip led to a few "tinkles" into the pot. I of course rejoiced and willingly gave her more pieces of candy than I had originally intended and she remained confused as to why I was acting like a crazy person (I admit...I may have snuck a couple of Rozalyn's "treats" in the midst of the chaos and it was beginning to show). 

By the end of day one, my sugar high had worn off and I was left feeling exhausted and defeated. My poor husband paid the price when he returned home as I vented, "What's the point of this? She was fine before...I knew this wasn't going to work. Maybe I should just quit while I'm ahead." My fear of failure was creeping up on me and I knew I just needed to go to bed. When I woke up for day two, my anxiety quickly returned and I wasn't at all ready to start another day of disaster. But the sun rose and with it so did my daughter...I just had to buckle down and buck up. Many more accidents ensued, as well as, numerous hours sitting on the bathroom floor reading stories and singing songs just waiting to hear something fall into that toilet. We did make progress, don't get me wrong, but just when I thought we had turned a corner I would look over and see that we were still standing in a puddle of disasters (literally). As the day wound down I began to hear those persistent voices in my head again, urging me to give up, but by that point I knew there was no turning back...one more day Tessa. Just one more day. 

When we woke up on day 3 it was like something shifted. Rozalyn had one minor accident in the hallway standing outside the bathroom (she was getting closer) and the rest of the day she gained the understanding to tinkle in toilet and not in her undies (Hallelujah... my hands needed a rest from the constant washing I was doing with those poor undies). I finally gained the confidence to take a little drive to pick up an item from a friends house and we survived with no accidents (granted it was only a 2 mile drive)!! For the first time in three days I was left feeling hopeful and encouraged that the end was in sight. 

After that day something clicked for Rozalyn. I remember my sister telling me that it would take three days but I didn't actually believe her!!! We went to stores, parks, friends houses and she never once had an accident. Sure we faced different obstacles, like the scary (HUGE) toilets at the store and the lack of bathrooms at the park, but each time she overcame her fears she took me along with her. Little by little, that voice in my head ceased to exist and day-by-day I was left feeling more victorious. 

So here I am, almost a week since our potty training adventure began and we are 100% potty trained. I think back to these series of events and chuckle at how naive I was for not "trusting in the system" but more importantly, not trusting in my ability to teach my daughter the lesson of potty training. Each time I handed her that small M&M as a reward for her actions, it was like she was giving back to me the confidence that I so lacked during this endeavor. 

It's amazing the things that you can do when life hands you an M&M. 

If you are like me and struggle with the fear of failure I encourage you to seek refuge in our Father because it's in Him that we can find rest. Not only is failure necessary to determine success but it's natural. We were made in God's perfect image but we are not perfect...not on our own at least. Continue to search the Fathers heart because it is there that you will find that you can never fail.