The Struggle is Real

This phrase is used flippantly and used often. Either in spite of this or because of it, one of my favorite discussions I have with my students is about struggle. 

We wrapped up reading Ernest Hemingway’s Old Man and the Sea – if you’ve not read it, it’s about an old dude and, well, the sea, specifically his struggle to catch a fish after a dry spell, struggling when he hooks the biggest fish of his life, then struggling to keep the sharks at bay. Spoiler alert: he doesn’t manage to succeed at that last task and his prize is eaten in front of his helpless eyes.

Now some would argue that poor Santiago’s struggle was in vain; however, Hemingway’s underlying theme is not about the outcome, but rather the struggle and how one carries oneself in the midst of struggle. Regardless of the outcome, one can still be seen as heroic.

When looking at this allegorical little novella, we get a little philosophical in my class, and here’s why: we all struggle.

There are times when drowning in disappointment, discouragement, insecurities, or mistakes feels inevitable, and when the best we can do is keep our heads above water, we can feel like we’re failing. This is precisely why I make space for this conversation.

One of the main ideas I hope will stick with my students is that struggling is not failing. If we are struggling, it means we haven’t given up. If we’re struggling, we’re not drowning. If we’re still struggling, there is hope.

Sometimes we get discouraged by the struggle, especially if it’s something that we’ve been struggling with for a while. We may get frustrated with our circumstances or ourselves because we can’t believe we still have this same issue. Or perhaps we get blindsided by a struggle we thought we had overcome and the frustration is having to deal with this thing yet again.

This past week I was dealing with disappointment and that disappointment opened up the flood gates to past struggles. It’s no fun; it’s discouraging. I’d been there, done that. I was over those past insecurities and doubts, wasn’t I? Apparently not.

The good news? I didn’t hide from the struggle – I fully embraced it in all its ugliness. I literally cried out to God my hurt and frustration. I was honest with myself and vulnerable with those who encouraged me but also allowed me to feel my emotions. This is the thing Hemingway missed: we do not have to struggle alone. We have a God who cares, who listens. We have community. Despite how it may feel, we are not alone – we just have to reach up and reach out.

I honestly don’t know what lesson I’m meant to be learning in this latest go around, but I do know this, that’s okay. I can still trust in God and His plans while wrestling with the why and the frustration. I mean, Jacob quite literally wrestled with God and received a new name, a new identity (albeit with a limp).

I also know this: this too shall pass. I know this because I am still here, I am still struggling, and I am stronger for it.