But I Failed, Again

Before Twitter and Instagram were born, and when Facebook was still in its infancy, I embarked on my first semester at McGill University.

I was a fresh young thing, with a spring in my step and a dream in my heart. And, like most sheltered young adult Type A personalities – I was determined, ambitious, and painfully naive.

Y’all, this was snapped with an actual camera because our phones were used for only phone calls back then. Still paid for text messages by the letter, and no smart phones in sight. Hair was permed. Life. Was. Good.

After getting excellent grades in my high school and CEGEP (in Quebec, similar to a junior college) history courses, I was certain I’d experience the same level of academic success at McGill.

I enrolled in a Bachelor of Secondary Education, majoring in history and minoring in religious education. It felt like a program tailored specifically for me, as it combined all my favourite things:

  • a study of the past
  • a study of faith
  • all wrapped up in program that equips you to teach them!

Wow, was I in for a rude awakening.

I failed.

I did the one thing you’re not supposed to do if you’re studying to be a history teacher in Canada: I failed my Canadian history course. Just straight bombed it. It was ugly. It was embarrassing, humiliating, confusing, you name it – I felt it.

Spoiler: I did graduate.

Have you ever hit roadblocks whilst travelling on the road of life to your destiny, that caused you to question reality and everything that matters? I sure did!

I was very disillusioned with what I thought was my purpose, my calling, my destiny, my gifting… The one thing you long to discover you were born to do. That contribution only you can make to this world in your own unique way… Failure was devastating. Failure felt like the end of my road.

Some good news!

Don’t worry, Tina! They offer a supplemental exam, so credits could be made up by just retaking the exam!

Well, that’s what I did. I studied my ass off, and wrote my brains out on that supplemental. I was back in the game!

Except I really, really wasn’t. To my shock and horror…

I failed, again.

I bombed the supplemental. Which, by the way, was supposed to be even easier than the final for the original class.

As any level-headed person would, I began to question my very existence and purpose in life. My entire future flashed before my eyes as I wondered,

How can I be a history teacher if I can’t even pass a freshman level history course? …multiple times?!

I mean, it was a fair question.

To add insult to injury, I discovered that my initial grade would still appear on my transcript, and both would be calculated into my GPA. Fantastic.

McGill University convocation, May 2009.

Well, third time’s the charm. By the time I graduated from McGill, I had 3 attempts on that blasted Canadian history course and my poor GPA had all the blows to show for it.

Fast forward six years

I had taught at several Montreal schools, gotten hitched, and popped out a couple of kids. I’ll never understand the term popped out when referring to childbirth, as it is anything but!

I digress…

We were making plans to move to Leamington, and that meant transferring my Quebec teaching credentials to Ontario. Easy peasy! I’d be on the road to molding the young minds of Essex County in no time.

Except, nope!

We were married just a few weeks post-graduation!

You guessed it… I failed. Again.

Ok fine, maybe I’m being dramatic. I didn’t actually fail because it’s just a matter of paying to be certified, which I did, and I am. But I just couldn’t land a job!

I wasn’t invited for an interview. Didn’t even get called to fill in for the day.

I was just a resumé sitting in an inbox collecting cyber dust waiting to be noticed. To this day, I haven’t taught even one period of high school history, English, or religion. The trinity of my passions. (Still being dramatic…)

This was snapped shortly after moving to Leamington. Just waiting for callbacks to interview for a teaching gig. Never got one.

When failure is a catalyst

Well you know what? If life had gone according to my plan…

I wouldn’t have acquired the tenacity or determination that can only develop after you’re knocked down and resolve to rise and try again.

  • That I learnt after failing my history course.

I wouldn’t have come to appreciate that the most valuable lessons can’t be learnt by taking shortcuts. That the long way is the only way to learn patience, and strengthen your perseverance.

  • That I learnt after failing my supplemental exam.

I wouldn’t have been home with my kids all these years, with enough time on my hands to eventually step out of my comfort zone and start this blog.

  • That I learnt when the door of traditional teaching closed on me six years ago. But it took me awhile to see that one.

I wouldn’t have recognized that God’s ways are in fact higher and better. The type of “teaching” that I get to do on this blog and through Bible studies, are the very things I couldn’t even let my heart hope for. They seemed unattainable to me. Unrealistic. Beyond my reach.

  • That I learnt by looking past my failures and at God instead.

So turns out that failing over and over at that ONE thing I thought was my destiny, was actually God’s way of doing two things:

  1. Shaping me into the person I am today.
    Obviously this person isn’t perfect. And Lord knows I cringe at many things that make me who I am. BUT… I still like what God’s doing in this sinner. And I’m grateful for the lessons I’ve learnt through failure.
  2. Shaping my path to draw me closer to Himself and the purposes He had for me all along.
    Maybe I’ll find myself in a classroom again someday. I’m not above that. But it’s just no longer the desire of my heart. Sometimes God closes doors to open others we thought we’d never be good enough for in the first place.
In my classroom (kitchen table) writing lessons (blog posts) to share with anyone willing to read. It’s truly a privilege. (And slight hair upgrade from first photo.)

Three lessons from this failure:

  • God. Is. For. Your. GOOD. If you’re following Him, you can’t lose! Even when you do. Because He is always working things for the good of those who love Him. (Romans 8:28)
  • God is not at a loss when you fail. We tend to think that we’re in God’s will when we experience success. But what if our failures are a vital part of what God is working in us? Not just in our accomplishments, but in our hearts. (1 Samuel 16:7)
  • Do the next right thing. Hit a dead end? Feeling confused? Is there a Frozen song being quoted here? Maybe. But it ain’t wrong. We don’t get to see the ending from the middle, but we can do the next right thing. Don’t know what that is? Need wisdom? Ask God! He gives it generously to anyone who asks. (James 1:5)

What’s in the Ears

Regardless of what failure we’ve endured, this song is a beautiful reminder that we can always rest in the palm of God’s hand.

Tell me, have you endured failure that has shaped you? To be honest, it was embarrassing to admit to failure here, but I’m glad I did. If you have your own experience to share, I’d love to hear it! Message me or comment below!

Tree Planting

My paternal grandfather is 90 years young as I write this. He’s been through a lot, as is expected at that age. But he’s tough as nails, and has hardly slowed down. He and my grandmother live in their 3-bedroom home, and still maintain it impeccably, inside and out.

Taken at my grandparents’ home on last time I saw them, December 2019.

From the generation that lived through World War II, followed by mass emigration from Europe to North America, my grandparents faced all the ups and downs that come with post-war immigrant life.

The pair only met on this side of the pond as fate would have it (or God’s will?), when they found employment at the same little bakery in downtown Montreal’s Park Extension.

Engagement photo, 1957

They fell in love, got married, had a couple of kids, started a couple of businesses, and unfortunately lived through more tragedy than any parent should when their second son took his life as a teenager, leaving my own dad as an only child.

The years that followed were met with their own type of adversity since Greek-speaking grief counselling services weren’t exactly in abundant supply in Montreal in the 1970s.

Fast forward 40+ years…

…and my grandfather is in the twilight of his life. Because of Covid and a 10-hour drive between us, I haven’t seen him as often as I would like in recent years. But I’m told he’s in a very reflective state as of late.

He’s pondering life’s deep questions… Tying up loose ends of material possessions and family heirlooms… I guess you’d call that getting his affairs in order.

So what does all this have to do with our post titled, Tree Planting?

Me with my brother, grandfather, and a zucchini so big it’d probably win a prize at a country fair.

Well for as long as I can remember, my grandfather’s garden has been his pride and joy. In the spring, summer, and autumn months, he spends his days outdoors cultivating, pruning, tilling, grafting, nurturing, and harvesting a wide variety of produce.

Besides the more common cukes and tomatoes that are grown in this corner of the world, my grandfather – having the greenest of green thumbs – has successfully grown produce thought to be too exotic to survive Montreal’s climate.

Just a couple of Greek kids and a child-size zucchini .

Growing up, my family was always the happy recipient of the fruit of my grandfather’s labour.

Literal fruit, like cherries from his cherry tree, peaches from his peach tree, as well as lemons and limes, plums and apricots, which my own children have also enjoyed.

His secret? The man starts planting indoors where the temperature can be regulated and the roots strengthened. Once the tree is strong enough to be transplanted outdoors, he attentively waters and prunes it during the warm months.

When the temperatures start to drop, he literally digs up half of the tree and buries it into the ground as a way to hibernate through the subzero temperatures of Montreal’s harsh winters.

I personally find this to be absolutely WILD. Even before the days of Google, he was never much of a reader. He never finished elementary school (no thanks to the Nazi invasion of his Greek island home, Kefalonia), so I really can’t imagine any scenario where he would have researched this!

So if you’re looking for the secret to tropical fruit growth – look no further!

My boys and their great-grandparents with the dining room lemon tree.

To Never Enjoy the Fruit of Your Labour

As I mentioned, I haven’t seen my grandparents since before Covid. But even through all the hardship that this past year (and now over a year!) has delivered at his age, my grandfather has this crazy notion that he’s going to plant yet another fruit tree.

  • At 90 years old
  • Whilst juggling several health problems and complications
  • Limited mobility
  • Chronic pain
  • Harsh climate
  • Did I mention 90 years old?

The man has decided to plant another fruit tree.

Folks, I tell you this because it was the life lesson that felt like the ultimately wake up call to me. If we were sitting (masked)face to (masked)face at a safe 6 ft apart just visiting and sharing life, I’d be waving my arms around like the dramatic Greek I am and shouting this next part…

All CAPS will have to do:

HE WILL NEVER EAT FRUIT FROM THIS TREE.
HE WILL NEVER SIT UNDER ITS BRANCHES, NOR WILL HE ENJOY THE SHADE OF ITS LEAVES.

He’s planting this tree for whoever will live in his home next. For the future owners of his home. For the next generation. Without any payback, reward, or personal gain.

I didn’t know this when I first started working on this post, but there’s actually an old Greek proverb that says:

This post isn’t overly spiritual or biblical, but I think there’s a lot to be learnt from regular life and experiences too.

What if we all approached life this way? What if we made life decisions that didn’t necessarily have a direct positive impact on our own wellbeing? What if we just did something for someone else without expecting something in return?

To be clear, I’m very much NOT good at this. Look at this post as a way to keep me accountable since I’m putting it out there and you’re actually reading it now and there’s no turning back.

We’re just not naturally inclined to do something for others that doesn’t benefit us in return.

In the wise words of Joey Tribbiani:

When I reach the twilight of my own life, I want to be known for that too! For the selfless good deeds. For inexplicable kindness. For generosity that defies logic. For planting trees I’ll never get to rest under.

What about you?

There’s lots to work on, and I have a ways to go. But let’s not stay in the condemnation of all the things we’re not getting right, or the goals we fall short of.

As a final thought:

(because I love my Bible)

The Apostle Paul shared some inspiring closing remarks to his young protégé, Timothy, a young up-and-comer in faith and church leadership.

In this letter, Paul encourages Timothy to continue in what he had learnt from his mother and grandmother (since family legacy is important!). He then ends with a reminder that the wisdom of his matriarchs is based on the Word of God!

Because…

All Scripture is inspired by God and is useful to teach us what is true and to make us realize what is wrong in our lives. It corrects us when we are wrong and teaches us to do what is right. 17 God uses it to prepare and equip his people to do every good work.

– II Timothy 3:16-17

The balance of this important reminder really resonated with me. We can be inspired by those around us doing a good work…

Example: don’t even get me started on my grandmother! She’s the most selfless, servant-hearted person I’ve ever met.

But we anchor it ALL to the inspiring words of scripture that God uses to prepare and equip His people to actually DO the good!

One last photo because look how happy they are! (Taken 2 years ago – one of my last Montreal visits, May 2019.)

What’s in the Ears

This song is about prayer, but it’s also about the legacy of faith we inherit from loved ones, and pass on to others. It always moves me to tears. Here are the lyrics!

Thanks for reading along today! Writing about my grandfather was emotional but special too. So I’d love to hear your own inspiring or special family stories! Send me a message or comment below!