On Hardship
Let me tell you something about hardship.
You are never prepared for it.
You can tell yourself that you are. You can tell yourself that you’ve thought through all the possibilities that could befall you and can handle whatever life hurls at you. But no matter how much you think you’re prepared, when that moment comes – and I can assure you that it will come – the world will grow dark and it will bring you to your knees.
![20140803_161402[1]](http://themeaningofme.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/20140803_1614021.jpg)
You can believe your own half-humorous claims that your position in life is secure because they’ll never find another fool to do your job for what they pay you. But the truth is they will. Not only will they find someone to do your job, but they will find someone to do it for even less than they’re paying you.
Three and a half years ago, my Husband lost his job. We had no suspicion, no warning. There was only a seemingly sudden decision that his services would no longer be required. We were devastated. He had spent eleven years of his time, energy, and talent on that position – sometimes to the detriment of other aspects of our lives. He worked hard and cared about his work. But suddenly, circumstances beyond our control left us standing, mouths agape, utterly shocked.
You can tell yourself that you have a solid plan in place. You can feel secure about your plan B or even plan C. And you can make decisions based on these plans because you believe things will unfold accordingly. But as is often true, as Robert Burns once wrote, that even the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.
A year and a half ago, I stepped away from a fourteen year career in education. I loved my work and reaped great rewards from it – until I didn’t. I had actually hoped to start making moves toward self-employment two years earlier, but those plans were immediately put on permanent hold when my Husband lost his job. We needed a full time salary. We needed benefits. During the next two years, though, my situation became toxic. I needed to move on to something new for my Self, my health, and my family. It was time. We had a solid plan in place and it appeared our plan would fall quickly into place. But it didn’t.
And so it happens that one day after the smoke clears and the shock wears off and that safety net disappears, you’re left standing, wondering how in the world you got to this now and what in the world to do next. You realize that hardship is no longer something that hits close to home, no longer happens to other people, and you can no longer say, “Ah, there but for the grace of God go I…” Because now it is home, it does happen to you, and the grace of God has absolutely nothing to do with any of it.
Losing a job of any kind is devastating. So is staying in one that is eating you alive or leaving one that has become toxic. Having your plan for a new life disintegrate seemingly overnight is disheartening. It doesn’t matter whether you work for yourself or someone else. Loss of livelihood renders us impotent. It is as significant as the death of a loved one and is just as great a loss. It spurs a powerful period of grief, of mourning for the life and identity lost. It creates hardship.
Hardship is relative, I suppose.
To say these last few years have been a challenge is an understatement. Money is tight and resources are exhausted. But at no time have we been without food, clothing, or shelter. We have been blessed with the aid and support of family. Our lives have changed, but not in such tangibly devastating measure as you will find on any news channel any day of the week. But it has produced sadness and self-doubt. It has caused anger. I’ve done my share of shaking my fist and screaming at God, “WHAT do you want from me??” And my faith has been tested like never before.
But in the end I find myself strangely grateful for all of it. My Grandfather was right – hardship does build character.
The truth is that three and a half years ago, neither one of us was truly happy where we were. But I don’t know that either one of us would have taken action to make a change; what we did at the time was all we knew. The events of the last few years have forced us to examine our Selves more closely, to rediscover what we love, what excites us, and what limitless potential is out there. We have learned that we are not defined solely by any one job in life. We find creative, fun, and inexpensive ways to spend time together as a family. We communicate better and argue less. We think more practically and carefully about the ways we spend our money. We more fully appreciate the things that we do have. We have learned humility and how to accept help gracefully. We dream about the future with more confidence and detail than ever before.
This phase of our lives is far from over. It has often felt like a very long and dark path through an unfamiliar forest, but I try to remember that while the trees might block the light, in doing so they provide coolness and shade, relief from the heat. We are still learning, growing, fighting, and discovering. There is so much more ahead for us than we can fathom from where we stand right now – but we know there is great potential. There is a path laid before us and there is sunlight beyond the cover of the trees. We have often felt that we would never see light again, but we are still here, doing the only thing we can do: continue to move forward one step at a time.
And so we march on…
![20140725_175103[1]](http://themeaningofme.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/20140725_1751031.jpg)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This has been a Finish the Sentence Friday post.
This week’s sentence is “The hardship I’m most thankful for…”
Hosts:
Kristi of Finding Ninee
Reta (this week’s sentence thinker-upper) of Calculated Chaos
and Vidya of Collecting Smiles
~~~~~
Also joining Elena at Living With Batman for the #BlogShareLearn weekend link up party. Check out the link-up and find some great new bloggers to read!
;
Love this? Share the love and tell someone!
14 Comments
Comments are closed.
Lisa, this is beautiful and so real and deep and full of all of the things. Hardship, hope, change, family, life, faith… I love the way you process and share all of this and have all of the hopes for you that life will continue to unfold as it’s supposed to – for you, and for all of us. Thank you, friend, for writing, for linking up, for your perspective.
Thank you, Kristi. I told you I had just the thing for this one! Really, though, your comment means a lot. XO
This was so very real, very good reading, much wisdom! It is said that “life is what happens while we are busy. Making other plans”, and I’ve found that to be true. What seems stable is often not and what appears unsettled will smooth out. In impossible situations, a way will be found. Most importantly, just as you note, when we find ourselves moving out of the difficulty and back into the light, we are amazed at how far we’ve come, what we’ve learned about ourselves and life, and how much stronger we feel. So often I’ve felt hopeless about life, and I look back later and smile at the wonderful events that were just around the curve and out of sight. I am delighted for the new possibilities opening up for you, I have every confidence that you are up to the challenge. You are also blessed to be such a good support to each other, working through this together.
True, Josie. Very true. I think it’s also true that sometimes we truly can’t see the forest for the trees, as the saying goes. And I do hope you are right that when we look back, we’ll see that wonderful things were indeed just around the bend. So far, that’s been kind of true – or at least we’ve found more of the path, if not the wonderful quite yet. But I suppose that’s all relative, too, isn’t it? I’m learning that answers are revealed to us when we’re truly ready for them. The great challenge is trusting, having faith, and being patient until that time comes.
And my Husband is absolutely my undying support through all of this – and I hope I for him.
Thanks for reading and for your thoughts. <3
First of all, thanks for inviting us into your life journey. I’ve seen the joy you’ve been feeling over the recent freelance work you’ve been taking on (and your clients are getting a GREAT writer, in case any of them are reading this!!!!!!), but hadn’t fully understood what lay behind your decision and the trials that had been going on in your life. It seem like you are on a good path, one that is healthy for both your husband and for you. I wish you well. *hugs*
Anna, your words are so sweet. Thank you. I believe we are on a good path. A slow one…but a good one! *hugs back*
Lisa, this is so beautiful, SO true, and so…completely perfect for you. I’m so in awe of your resilience and persistence, and SO SO glad to be on the sidelines, cheering you on, as things finally seem to be starting to come together again.
I really felt the line “you can no longer say, “Ah, there but for the grace of God go I…” Because now it is home, it does happen to you, and the grace of God has absolutely nothing to do with any of it.”
This is outstanding.
Once upon a time I thought you were the most lofty writer ever (definitely still true) and that I could never connect with someone the likes of you. I can’t tell you how absolutely much your comments mean. “That writer lady likes me…she really likes me!” 😀 Now you’re my friend and I love you and I love how you are always there cheering all of us on. Anyway, I do feel like things are finally and actually starting to come together in the way they were always meant to be.
I have no idea what’s going on with me and my words lately. Maybe I’m finally just letting go and letting them out. Maybe I got tired of saying “I could never write…” (fill in the rest). I could never write poetry. I could never write fiction. I could never write. Period. But I always have – I just chose not to put it out there, kept it stifled. I’m telling you something happened the day I had that conversation with the mammogram tech and said “I am a writer.” Opened the floodgates or something, which is good because I have an awful lot of little ships here in my fleet to set sail…
*grins* I promise, I am SO NOT lofty. Like, not in the slightest. But I’m so glad that you enjoy our friendship and appreciate my cheerleading. I think you’re doing brilliantly, and I’m so pleased to add my voice to those who are in your corner, cheering you on.
I think that your day with the mammogram tech was a wonderful, magical time of BECOMING, and YES, you damn well CAN write, and I love seeing you send all your ships, and watching them start to come back with dividends. That’s BRILLIANT, and I’m so proud of you for keeping going with it, even in the face of really sucky timing and urgency.
You’re an inspiration 🙂
What a bizarre place to have that transpire, right? Standing there shirtless having your boobies checked? Kind of hilarious. 😀
Sucky timing and urgency are certainly strong motivators, aren’t they?
And thanks. *HUGS*
“And so we march on.” Yes. My mantra as well. Off to share.
It’s all you can do, right?
Thanks, Kelly!
Oh Lisa! You have such a beautiful soul to see the positive in this seemingly end-of-the-road situation! You’re very brave! What you said about the trees blocking the sunlight but providing coolness and shade is so true – we just need the courage to see a different side. Hugs! I wish you happiness and health – with these two, everything else falls in place somehow. Sending you love.
Thank you, Vidya – what a beautiful comment you’ve left me! It is not always easy to see that there is good ahead when in the midst of the challenge. That has perhaps been the most difficult part of all of this. Some days it takes a very conscious effort to not get sucked into anger, self-pity, etc. Some days I win that battle; others not. But I always try. Thanks for all the wonderful wishes!