How many times have you found yourself in a situation where you keep telling yourself, “Okay, if I can just get through this, everything will be fine”? If I can just make it through this exam, this course, this week, this year, then I’ll be fine. Wishing, hoping, praying that you can just find the strength to persevere and still be standing at the end of the struggle.
We find ourselves wishing away our days to get to the “better days” ahead.
If we can just get through the newborn stage, the tantrum stage, the teenage years…because we know there has to be a light at the end of the tunnel. We are ready to bask in that light, with a drink in one hand and a good book in another without a care in the world, because we MADE IT.
Have you ever met a person that has never really had a struggle? They land the perfect job after one interview, they conceive on the first try, they have healthy babies born full-term, they have both parents still living, and probably some grandparents even great grandparents. They are the “lucky” ones.
But here you are, struggling to conceive, or grieving a loss so dear to your heart that you cannot even put into words how you feel, or unemployed with no prospects, or struggling to pay your bills let alone start buying for Christmas. The struggle. The anxiety, the sadness, the loneliness, the “why me?”
I questioned so many times why my dad had to die, and to be honest, I still do. Why did I lose the baby we tried for months to make? Why didn’t I get that job back in college? Why this and why that. Why do we have to walk a dark and lonely journey while everyone else seemingly has it all?
It has taken years to fully grasp and understand why I had to go through certain journeys, but after time to digest, reflect, and persevere, the answer is clear.
The connections you can make with those who have gone through similar struggles make it feel worthwhile. To be able to connect with someone in a time of need is the most valuable feeling in the world. When someone loses a child and you can say, “I’ve been there and I survived, you can too. I’ll be sure you do.” This means so much more than the, “Well, now you know you can pregnant!” Or the, “I’m so sorry, let me know if there’s anything I can do.” While those are great, people who have struggled just as you have KNOW what to say and do.
The person who now has a stable career and hears your struggle and recommends you for a job. The person who holds your hand in the hospital with a bag of snacks as you wait to hear the news. The person who has struggled to pay bills but now donates money to charity.
The struggle gives your life value. It teaches you to appreciate the littlest things and embrace all the big things. The struggle allows you to help people. Being vulnerable and admitting your struggle allows for a connection to others.
Recovery groups exist for this very reason. It’s human nature to want to feel like you aren’t alone. We surround ourselves with friends with similar morals, interests and personalities, so it’s no surprise that we need people when we struggle. Many times local churches and non-profits offer “recovery” type of classes or meetings. A great local resource for grieving parents of miscarriage and infant loss is Project Gabriel. If you are in the middle of a struggle, seek that help.
Sometimes, the struggle is real. Whether it’s a bedtime routine, a tantrum in Target, addiction or death. It’s okay to open up and throw your hands in defeat. Be vulnerable. Ask for help. Reach out to those who get you. Find your people for the season you find yourself in.
But, saddle back up, girl. You have a life to live. Don’t you dare give up.
