The Meaning You Make

 You’ve probably heard the seemingly ever-present phrase:

“Everything happens for a reason.”

It’s stitched into throw pillows.
It's printed on wall décor.
It's offered like a balm when plans unravel,
relationships end, or
life takes an unexpected detour.

And part of me wants to believe it.

Because it’s comforting.
Because it gives chaos a storyline.
Because if there’s a reason, maybe I don’t have to hold the weight of what’s happening.

But here’s the thing I’ve been wrestling with lately:

What if not everything happens for a reason—
but we can find a reason within everything that happens?

It might sound like semantics.
Like two different ways to say the same thing.
But I don’t think they are.

One implies design before action.
The other implies meaning through reflection.

The first version offers relief.
The second offers responsibility.

One invites you to trust that it’s all being worked out behind the scenes.
The other asks you to get involved in the process.
To get your hands dirty.
To get a little braver.

I’m not trying to say either one is wrong.

I think we need both, especially when the road gets hard.

But lately, I’ve realized how tempting it is to let the first idea become a shortcut.
A way to bypass the pain, the reflection, or the necessary shift.
A way to stay put and call it peace, when what I really need is movement.

Because saying everything happens for a reason can cause us to stop worrying, but it can also cause us to stop growing.

It soothes the sting, but sometimes it also silences the work.

Finding meaning, though, is different.

It’s not passive. It’s not convenient.
It requires us to pause, reflect, and sometimes wrestle.

It asks:
What did this moment teach me?
Who did it lead me to?
What resilience did it call out of me?
What boundaries did it break? What did it build?

The difference is subtle, but important.

One comforts.
The other transforms.

As I mentioned earlier, we need both.

But maybe—just maybe—we should stop waiting for life to make sense to us
and start making sense of life as we live it.

So here’s the question I’m learning to ask myself:

When something doesn’t go the way I planned—
not just a detour, but a disappointment—

I can tell myself it wasn’t meant to be.
Or…I can ask: 

What now?
What can I learn?
How can I grow forward, not just move on, but move through?

Try This:

1: Think of a moment from this past year that didn’t go as you hoped. Instead of asking “Why did this happen to me?”

Ask:

• What did I learn from it?
• What relationships or changes came out of it?
• Who did it invite me to become?

2: Reframe the next hard moment by saying: “This didn't work out for me, but I can still choose how I respond.”

3: If you’re a parent, leader, or teacher, try modeling this mindset aloud. It can be powerful for kids or colleagues to hear someone say, “This was hard. I didn’t want it. But here’s what I’m learning from it anyway.”

You don’t have to have it all figured out. I certainly don’t.

But I’m learning that reflection often leads to redemption and meaning.

Sometimes it’s something you find.
Sometimes it’s something you make.
And sometimes, it’s simply the step you take next.