I can do hard things.
I can shake the hand of the man who did improvements to my home that I think are ugly, but that I know are necessary. I can share a smile with a different man who did home improvements that prove to need fixing. I can look into the face of the twenty-year-old kid who passively told me that he didn’t want to be my friend after I invested time and emotion in a relationship with him.
I can do hard things. I can intentionally take myself off birth control and watch month after month of blood come and go. I can post my house on the market without knowing where we will move and what kinds of sacrifices I will have to make in choosing our next home. I can apologize to another adult when I knew she was just having a hard time.
I can do hard things. I can prepare and deliver spiritual lessons to a class of all men who know it already. I can work at Mom Tasks all day, even when I wonder at the end of it what exactly I did. I can scrape a little paint off a door each day, and toilet train each day, and clean something each day, and acknowledge the unfulfilled feeling inside each day.
These are all hard, but my spirit is slowly expanding because of them. My will is growing stronger, and my fortitude is hardening. Right now, I grab for a few easy things because they help me deal with hard things. Easy things like reading books and Facebook. Easy things like sleep.
Even when sleep is soured because my body wakes too far just to turn over. And when I wake to realize my dreams are more exciting than the day ahead and the day previous. Right now, I’m willing to sacrifice stimulating days to create a stable atmosphere for two kids.
Even when it’s hard.