Letting Them Fail

365 days ago, Caleb walked out of Louisville with a 1st place Showmanship ribbon in his hands and a smile the size of Texas. Since that day, he has had his heart set on winning showmanship at NAILE again. Before show season even started, he hand picked the most docile lamb in our pens and named her. He worked all summer with Sophia. With the thousands of inches of rain this summer, when most eight year old kids were in front of a screen, he was in the barn in front of a mirror with Sophia. When it was 98 degrees, and other kids were at the pool, he was outside with Sophia. Mid October, when it was freezing, he was bundled up with Sophia, practicing getting her legs set just right. If there is a kid that worked for that win this year, it's him.

After all of those months of dedication, he was so excited when it was finally show time last weekend, no one more confident than him. When he came out of that ring, with a third place ribbon in his hands, he cried for 30 minutes. And I cried with him. My heart just broke seeing this little sweet boy learn that sometimes hard work isn't enough. Most of the time, it's a whole list of combination of things, including some luck. And my fear was that this failure would crush his spirits. That he would learn that hard work doesn't pay off, and be afraid to try again.

I began reflecting on my own insecurities, and why the fear of failure has stopped me from doing almost every great thing that I have ever wanted to do. But as I thought about it, I realized that it's not because I worked hard at something and failed at it. In fact, from the beginning of my life that I can remember, I have always avoided anything that I thought I had a chance at failing at.

After showmanship had concluded, Reid sat down with both of the boys to have a heart to heart about not letting failure define you. Both boys were silent, but I was praying the whole time that some of those words were sinking into their little hearts.

While we were walking out of the barn a few hours later, and everyone was done crying, Andrew, my ten year old, said he had been thinking about risks and losing a lot that day. He said, "Imagine a football game, and Payton Manning is still playing for the Colts. He's down by 7 with a minute left on the clock against the Patriots. What is he going to do? Well, he's going to throw a hail mary pass to the end zone. And you know what happened when he did that? It was intercepted and they lost."

Caleb interrupted, rather angrily and asked "What is your point in telling me this?!!"

Drew continued.... and I am not adding a single word... "But guess what? The next year, in the championship game, Payton Manning finds himself down by 7 with a minute left again. And you know what he does? He throws ANOTHER hail mary pass to the end zone, and his receiver catches it! Risk and luck are like that. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't, but you still have to throw the pass."

Caleb replied, "Yeah. You're right."

Reid and I were both speechless.

The hardest thing to teach your kids is grit. It can't be lectured into them. It can't be encouraged into them. It has to be learned through failing and getting back up.

If putting my boys in situations where they can, and will, lose means that we are capable of raising kids that are not afraid of taking risks, if letting them fail means that we are raising two young men that are willing to still throw the pass, even though it might be intercepted, I would lose in the show ring every single year, and cry a bucket of tears with both of them all over again.

Failing might just be the best thing that has happened to our family this year.

“You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact, it may be necessary to encounter the defeats, so you can know who you are, what you can rise from, how you can still come out of it.”   Maya Angelou