You Can Do Hard Things

In September of 2019, I was booked to speak at a nurses conference in Hawaii and we decided to make it a family trip. The gig was in Honolulu, but we spent the first week on the windward side of Oahu, in the shadow of the ridge overlooking Lanikai and Enchanted Lakes, suburbs of Kailua. 

On that ridge snakes the Lanikai Pillbox trail, boasting one of the best views in Hawaii. There are pillboxes throughout the Hawaiian islands, typically built to be military observation stations. Although this particular one was built after the attack on Pearl Harbor in World War II, it is from this vantage point that you would’ve seen the Japanese bombers approaching. Island residents reported seeing the aircraft appearing on the horizon and invading the island like a swarm of locusts.

Tutu Man, the larger-than-life ukulele player who owned the rental property where we were staying, suggested we make the hike as a family. I’d heard it was fairly challenging, but he was confident we could all handle it. He was a big, bold, brash dude, and prone to hyperbole, so I was somewhat skeptical.

I decided to conduct a scouting mission and take the journey alone. I scurried up the trail, analyzing the terrain through the eyes of a dad with a ten, seven, and five-year-old. I concluded it would be hard, but doable. The view was spectacular, and I wanted them to experience it firsthand.

The next morning at breakfast, prior to our family trek, I delivered a pep talk. I told my children that there were three things they needed to know:

“It will be hard.”
“You will skin your knee.”
“You can do this.”

“It will be hard.”

Optimism is essential to the success of any important undertaking, but it’s vital to be honest with ourselves with a realistic appraisal of our situation. What are our weaknesses? Where are the blind spots? What are the potential roadblocks we’ll encounter? This frank assessment allows us to improve our chances by planning accordingly.

Our culture conditions us to expect easy. We look for quick fixes and instant gratification. We enjoy cruise control, fast food, and on-demand entertainment. Because of this, it’s helpful to know that something will be hard before you begin. You may not fully grasp how hard it will actually be, but at least you won’t be surprised when you encounter adversity and be tempted to quit before you’ve barely begun. 

My kids needed to know this wasn’t a walk on the beach. 

Now, I am no mountain climber, marathon runner, or survivalist. But I have done hard things. One of them was sticking to a twenty-year dream that had no guarantee of success and often showed little to no progress.

I knew creating a business from scratch that allowed me to make a living doing what I loved – when doing what I loved was art and not something like, say, accounting – was a tall order. To be honest, it was about ten times harder and took about ten years longer than I expected. But a thorough understanding that nothing worthwhile comes easy kept me from being blindsided when things got hard. Instead, I was prepared to dig deeper, learn more, and try new things.

“You will skin your knee.”

Yes, there will be blood. My kids are not fans. A dot of blood from a picked scab from a mosquito bite usually incites panic and requires a band-aid, stat. 

I figured it would be wise to give them a heads up about the potential bodily harm.

When it comes to your hard thing, you may not shed physical blood, but there is a painful price to be paid for anything of real value. You may lose friends. You may end up in debt. Your pride might take a pounding. You may have to live in a crappy apartment with no cable and no air conditioning for six years longer than you expected while friends and family members are having kids, building nice homes, and going on nice vacations. (Hypothetically.) 

The point is, doing a hard thing hurts. It’s likely you’ll question your ability, your faith, and your sanity. But the most important thing to know is this:

“You can do this.”

I knew my kids were up to the task, as long as they didn’t quit when the going got tough (or at the first sign of blood). I knew they would be stretched, but I also knew the reward would be worth it. Not just the view at the top, but the feeling they’d experience back at the bottom: the exhilarating sense of fulfillment that comes after doing something hard. 

When my own dream was still in doubt and my faith in myself wavered, I clung to the belief that I could do all things through God’s strength. I can testify that there is no better feeling than to have been challenged to see what you’re made of, and come away impressed by what you discovered.

And I wanted that for my kids, even if it was just a small taste. 

I am happy to report that we made it to the top, and back down again, relatively unscathed. It was hard. We did collect a few scrapes. There were tears. But we did it, and the view was tremendous.

You, too, can do hard things.

Maybe someone in your life has told you you’re not good enough. Smart enough. Strong enough. 

They are wrong.

Thomas Edison was closer to the truth when he said, “If we did all the things we are capable of, we would literally astound ourselves.”

You can do hard things. You can climb that mountain. Overcome that loss. Make it through that divorce. Achieve that childhood dream. You have a supernatural strength at your disposal, making you capable of more than you can imagine.

Don’t fall into the trap of easy. Easy is overrated.

It will be hard, and you will skin your knee, but you can do this.

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