#getaftergrateful

har·dy/ˈhärdē/adjective – robust; capable of enduring difficult conditions.

I consider myself to be a pretty hardy gal, in part because somewhere along the way, I started preparing myself for things to get worse. When I acknowledged that the next stretch might feel harder, it suddenly felt strangely doable to keep going in the moment. Eventually, the workout was over or the baby finally arrived and suddenly, it wasn’t so bad.

It worked for the Turkey Trot in fourth grade. It worked for pregnancies and labors and deliveries. It worked for the night shift at work. It worked for hard financial times as a newlywed, and long nights with newborns. It worked for grad school. Before our drive to Alaska, I told my kids to prepare for the most incredible adventure OR the most miserable trip of their lives. I warned them not to ask how much longer we had to drive, because the answer would probably disappoint them. Thankfully, my beloved offspring chose the incredible adventure route. Over the course of eight days and nearly five thousand miles, nobody asked when we’d arrive. Not once did someone say they were bored. One of my kids recently told me it was one of the most fun experiences they’d ever had.

And now, here I am in Alaska, bundled up for winter in spring and loving it. As I do my slippery dance across the parking lot into work each morning, I whisper to myself, You’re doing it. This isn’t so bad. It will get worse. Smell that air? Notice how many layers you have on? You’re fine. It will get harder and colder and you’ll still be fine. You’re alive and you’re well. Enjoy this moment. Remember this when it gets harder.

Through therapy, I’m learning that this is a survival technique. Though I’ve never experienced what Aundi Kolber calls “Big T trauma,” I’ve had my fair share of formative experiences. Somewhere deep inside, I’ve always had the sheer will to survive, and maybe a little hope for some flourishing along the way. There are seasons to survive, and there are seasons to thrive. I’ve done them both, and I’ll do them forever; sometimes, simultaneously.

I want to stay hardy. God called me to lift heavy things. Expecting life to get harder has never cost me my hope or peace. I plan to stay prepared in that way. But after 2020, I want to be equally as prepared for things to get better. More enjoyable. Easier, even. Because who is to say that they won’t?