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.
