Epic Fail

Failure: noun, act or instance of proving unsuccessful; lack of success
                     person or thing that proves unsuccessful

Well there's the dictionary definition for you. Glad that's out of the way.

How do you define failure? Are you a failure? "Are you worthless?" to quote one Brian Eldridge. Who gets to determine success and failure?

So: third in the class, scored in the top five percent on the ACT, voted most likely to succeed, full ride to Troy State University.

College Dropout.

Failure.

Or at least, so I thought for several years.

I'm a bit of a perfectionist (though if you looked at my desk, either at work or at home, you might think otherwise). So much so that I've become self conscious writing this blog, an endeavor I only started out of a desire to write, not necessarily to garner attention. Growing up I didn't think I mattered unless I was perfect, unless I was at the top. When they announced the honor court, and I saw that I was third, I didn't call my parents. Didn't even mention for a few weeks. Because I wasn't first. And that wasn't good enough.

I can't really say what happened in college. I truly don't know. No drugs, no booze, no wild (or any other kind) women, no parties. Somewhere along the way, everything fell apart mentally. Depression? Maybe, not really sure, especially since I didn't believe in depression. But did anyone know? Nope, because I couldn't let the facade drop. Not until it was too late and too obvious and I was quitting school.

It was mortifying to me. Going from being someone who so much expectation was upon, who had so much potential, to, in my mind, nothing. I tried to avoid most people I had grown up with, mostly because I was afraid of 'hey did ya hear about David Hall? Flipped out, dropped out of college, and now he stocks shelves at a retail store"

But I'm not a failure.

Do any of you know what my dream was growing up? It wasn't being a brain surgeon or a lawyer or an astrophysicist or a teacher or a football coach.

My dream was no bigger than this: to have a family to love and to be able to take care of that family.

One of the great problems in this nation is that we define ourselves by our careers. We are our occupations. Fireman. Policeman. Teacher. Politician. Thief. (oops repeated myself).

Success or failure is defined by how far we can advance in our chosen profession, how adeptly we can scale the corporate ladder.

Shouldn't success be determined by how good I can be as a human being? How I treat my fellow man? How I love my family, friends, and even those who are outside of my circle?

Or this: we should be defined as who God says we are to Him.

It took me far too long to find this secret to success. And I don't think I would have if I had not "failed" in the traditional sense.

So I didn't graduate college. So I worked my way up in a retail establishment. So I left said establishment to work for a uniform company (and its amazing how much I have to explain what that is.) And now I manage about 40 people. All these things mean little. Sure, it pays the bills and puts food on our table. This is neither success or failure; it is a means to an end. My success is that my wife knows I love her. That my friends know I'd bend over backwards for them. That my baby girl will know that her daddy loves her. And that God values me enough to send his only begotten Son to this earth. That His son would live a spotless life and die a cruel death for my sins.

Again, I'm not a failure.

And I'll bet that neither are you.