Welcome the Heat
I let failure show me what can carry me forward.
The meeting ends.
I close my laptop. Chairs scrape back, the door swings open, and the room clears around me.
The plan I worked on all week has failed.
My mind starts to reach for an explanation ~ an excuse, really ~ before I even stand up.
Maybe the timing was wrong? Maybe I needed one more day. Maybe I…
The dark laptop screen catches my reflection.
My jaw is tight.
My eyes are searching.
I rest both hands on the table and say ~
“I turn off the impression.”
My face relaxes. The tension releases from my body.
I open my notebook and write one honest sentence: “the plan failed.”
Under it, I write ~
“I turn failure into opportunity.”
I toss the laptop in my bag, tuck the notebook under my arm, and walk toward the glass door.
Bright afternoon light floods the threshold. Heat rolls across the pavement outside.
A car waits across the lot. I step out and the sun meets me, heats me.
I say ~
I welcome the heat because I am what remains after the fire.

I turn bad into good. I turn failure into opportunity.
The heat melts my shoulders. I open my eyes and glance at the sun. I loosen my collar and walk to the low wall beside the building.
I sit down and open the notebook across my knees.
The bad result is on the page, and so is my response.
I write ~
“I turn bad into good. I turn failure into opportunity.”
One failed afternoon is my current circumstance. My vision reaches farther, looks better, and seems more real to me than what just happened.
I have more faith in my vision than in my current circumstances.
Faith takes a step into the unknown.
Faith makes the call, and accepts the results.
Faith knows that every stumble, every misstep, every could’ve been ~ is really a lesson that I need to learn.
I welcome the heat because I am what remains after the fire.
“I welcome the heat because I am what remains after the fire.”
“I turn bad into good. I turn failure into opportunity.”
“I have more faith in my vision than in my current circumstances.”
“I turn off the impression.”
I let go and rise up.