It's OK to Fail
+ other life lessons learned from the Michaels who drew me out of my hiatus.
Welcome to Letters From Heidi, a refuge for truth seekers, deep-feelers, and the homesick in search of Eternity.
This month, I made the difficult decision to leave my job of 10 years to free up time and mental space for writing projects. I had agonised over this decision. After a decade, it felt like I was leaving a family behind.
I joined Katoomba Christian Convention (KCC) in 2014, intending to work for a year before moving interstate to church-plant the year after. What began as a casual stint turned into a ten year commitment to a team and ministry that has impacted tens of thousands of lives—including my own. There are no words that could encapsulate the gratitude I have for my colleagues, but if you happen to be reading this—I thank God for you!
In 2019, I started writing as a side hobby. I had turned 30 and my husband gifted me a blog as he thought it prime time to invest in something I enjoyed—guilt-free. It was never my goal to become a serious writer, but after sharing “Closing the Cultural Gap”, God surprised me with a growing readership, publishing opportunities, and patron support—all things that made me believe that it was His will for me to turn a hobby into a career.
While things were going really well, my pen was interrupted with more surprises—firstly, a worldwide pandemic which greatly changed the publishing landscape for new authors, and secondly, a successful pregnancy after facing unexplained infertility for 5 years. Unable to cope with the stressors and pressures of so much change all at once, I burnt out, and took a 2-year hiatus from writing and growing my business platform on social media.
When I informed my patrons that I was cancelling my Patreon subscriptions, I felt a crushing sense of shame for failing to reach my goals and disappointing people who believed in me. I feared the loss of trust, credibility, and relationship. Although I never received shame or criticism from any of my patrons, my inner critic was loud, and She was the one I disappointed the most.
In retrospect, being forced to pause was the best thing for my faith, soul and transition into motherhood. I can now understand God’s purposes for that season—although it was hard for me to accept His timeline at the time. For so long, I had been scrambling on the spiritual hamster wheel of hoping to be enough through doing more; deriving my value from being seen for what I can do, instead of nurturing the unseen of who I am becoming in Christ (more on this topic in future letters).
In saying this, I am so glad to be writing again, because a part of me has always had a burning desire to finish what I started. Two people have been instrumental in empowering the spiritual and mental resilience required for my comeback: Michael #1 and Michael #2.
Meet Michael #1: Mikey
Michael #1 (Mikey) is my husband. We met 14 years ago, and I was immediately drawn to the strength of his spiritual convictions. Mikey is a man of his word. He was 18 years old when he made the commitment to follow Jesus. Not someone to promise things flippantly, his decision was measured and thoughtfully considered, and since then, knowing and serving God has become his purpose, drive and meaning to all of life.
Mikey is also a man of action. Throughout our marriage, he has consistently modelled to me the importance of using every God-given gift, resource and opportunity for gospel work. Not one to give up when things feel hard or uncomfortable (he once ‘unknowingly’ preached with appendicitis), he is a man who gives every opportunity his best shot, and as a pastor, has poured out his life to teach, equip and grow the church.
Many times, I have wondered whether the work involved with church planting is too big or too impossible, but while I’m worrying, Mikey has already taken ten steps forward in faith. Sure he’s made mistakes, and he’s self-aware of his flaws and limits, but God has blessed his faithfulness—proving to us time and time again that His power will be perfected in human weakness.
For me personally, making decisions by faith can be so hard, because it requires me to deny the gospel of self-sufficiency and self-reliance. It’s accepting that I don’t get to call the “perfect” shot for my life in a controlled and secure environment. I won’t always have the answers or feel completely prepared for the job at hand. After all, where’s the faith in that?
Making decisions by faith can be so hard, because it requires me to deny the gospel of self-sufficiency and self-reliance.
Even before we church planted, Mikey would tell me that he would make effort to not let his identity be tied to the success of the church. He’s assured me that Jesus is the Senior Pastor, and if doors have to close one day, then it’s God’s will and it’ll all be ok. This year marks Mikey’s 10th year as a pastor, and though he’s a little more wearied, he’s still persevering in faith and keeping the promises he made to the church. I don’t say this enough, but I greatly respect his resilience.
In the same vein, he reminds me that it’s ok to take risks and learn from mistakes. As a Christian, my identity is not in my earthly success or vocation. I am NOT what I do. My identity is firmly in Christ—which means, I can give work my best shot without the crushing fear of losing my worth or value. If God is truly sovereign over the outcome of human plans, then it’s simply my job to be faithful in my work—all the while trusting that God can use both success and failure for my growth and good:
“In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.” - Proverbs 16:9
Thank you Mikey, for being my spiritual cheerleader and for not letting me settle for a life within my comfort zone.
Meet Michael #2: Sai Lou
Michael #2 is my younger brother; ‘Sai Lou’ in Cantonese. He does not share the same faith as me, but has always inspired me with his mental resilience despite life’s challenges.
Last month, I plucked up the courage to ask him whether he would trust my credibility as a writer if I was to start publishing again. He is not someone who holds back from telling the truth and I was ready to hear it. Although I was expecting rejection, to my surprise, he said he would trust me even more because he respects people who have the grit to get back up after a fall.
Although my Sai Lou does not share my Christian faith, he has always inspired me with an important life-lesson: it’s ok to fail.
Let me share his story.
If I was born as an Accident, my Sai Lou was born an Anomaly. More introverted, disciplined and creative than I, he could spend many hours alone in his head—tinkering, hustling, and even dreaming of becoming a Shaolin Monk! While I grew up an extroverted people pleaser; wearing different masks to adapt to different groups, my Sai Lou lived in a world of his own, completely unfazed by the criticism and opinions of others.
As with most Asian-Australian children growing up in the 90’s, my brother and I were disciplined with butt spankings. While most Hongkonger parents used feather dusters to lay down the law, my dad preferred a Ping Pong bat in the shape of Tweety Bird’s head. Spanks by Tweety were painful to my pride and would leave me in a blubbering mess. In comparison, my Sai Lou would emerge from the ashes with a cheeky smile and boasting in his “butt tensing” skills.
You wouldn’t guess it now, but my brother grew up with a heavy stutter which impacted his social skills and adaption to new environments. Today, he is a sought-after entrepreneur, public speaker, mentor and Youtuber for the design and UX/UI industry. My Sai Lou doesn’t just teach resilience—he has fought hard to grow in it—proving to the world that setbacks can be channelled into superpowers.
My Sai Lou doesn’t just teach resilience—he has fought hard to grow in it—proving to the world that setbacks can be channelled into superpowers.
As kids, our dad would often teach us that, “life isn’t fair, so get used to it!” While I would dramatically bemoan the injustices of life under the sun, my Sai Lou would quietly move forward with creative ways to achieve his goals. Growing up, my Sai Lou did not inherit a cent, but what he received was inspiration from my dad’s persevering immigrant spirit, and a refusal to accept the status quo or the limits of a bamboo ceiling.
To teach us good work ethic, my parents never gave us gifts—only rewards. While my friends from school received pocket money for breathing and existing, I would have to complete a never-ending list of household chores to earn $5 a week (barely enough for one lunch at the school canteen). While I remained resigned to my measly earnings, the cogs in my brother’s head were constantly churning to find new ways of earning extra coin.
As my Sai Lou failed to get into a government-funded Selective School, my parents enrolled him into a semi-private Catholic school. Surrounded by wealthier students from a completely different culture and financial lane, my brother struggled to feel fully connected to his classmates, but he used the opportunity to take the art of hustle to the next level.
It all started with a sandwich.
While his mates were given daily lunch money to spend at the school canteen, my Sai Lou was given the same packed lunch for six years straight—an extra dry sandwich, flavoured with two slices of ham and one slice of cheese. Empowered by food envy, he began to brainstorm ways to earn extra money for snacks. He carefully measured supply and demand, and learned that rich kids are willing to pay for service and convenience!
So, as soon as the lunch bell rang, he would bolt to the canteen to take the first spot. As the rest of the school swaggered through, he would sell his prime position for a dollar. Lesson number one: rich kids will pay for convenience. Soon, he started a service where he would help other students buy their food, if it meant that he could keep the change. Lesson number two: rich kids don’t care about small change, so find ways to keep it!
What I have observed over the years is that my Sai Lou never mopes. He sees limits, problems and even failure as opportunities to evolve and progress, using every challenge as a catalyst for change. When he failed the Selective Schools test, he accepted that he wasn’t book smart, and so he took every risk to learn how to be street smart. Sure he’s never been to university and is a TAFE drop-out, but that’s because he was busy teaching himself how to start multiple businesses, pay off mortgages, and become financially literate.
Although my brother is now an accomplished man and entrepreneur, I’ll always remember him as the quiet stuttering boy who tried to teach me how to butt-clench during spankings. Having this context makes me greater appreciate the man he is today, and the incredible optimism and resilience behind every achievement.
In a world preferring quick wins and instant results, I believe we should all strive to become a ‘Michael’ for the people around us. A person committed to the valuable work of nurturing spiritual and mental resilience; a cheerleader who helps the discouraged to see the silver lining in our limits, failures and mistakes.
After all, who knows what can happen with an (extra dry) sandwich.
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Love and blessings,
Heidi Tai x
So glad the people close to you in life have inspired you so much!
This was such a good and enjoyable read. And your Michaels have inspired me too! Amazing to be surrounded by such greatness.