HOW TO DO HARD THINGS

“Life is hard and then you die.” Seriously? Who came up with that heart-warming phrase? After the week my family has just moved through, my perspective is more like, “Life is hard and beautiful and hard and beautiful and hard and beautiful all over again until there’s no more hard.”

There is not one of us who will escape heartache. Such is the nature of our existence on this planet. There are, however, many of us who will never fully experience the beauty. Maybe we got so beat up that we spent the rest of our days protecting ourselves. Maybe we got too scared and never dared to do anything beautiful ever again. Maybe we got too angry and paranoid and now we lash out at everything that is beautiful and everything that is hard. Maybe we never knew how precious and loved we were when the hard things came and so we took them as a sign that we were not worthy of a beautiful life.

Or maybe, like so many of us, nobody ever taught us how to do hard things.

This week my Mom taught me how to do hard things. She underwent a double mastectomy after ten years of dealing with this pesky cancer. As I watched her move through every part of this experience, I learned so much. I learned how to do hard things in a way that lets you take in beauty at the very same time. Here are my field notes.

1. DON’T WORRY ABOUT THE THINGS YOU DON’T KNOW. When my mom was waiting on the results of her initial biopsy, she did NOT sit around like a pre-traumatized victim, running through all of the possible scenarios in her mind. She did NOT indulge in imagining her own demise or planning her funeral. (Besides we already know she wants her ashes spread at the mall.) She carried on with her life and CHOSE not to overthink the unknowns. When I asked her if she was worried she just told me that she was not going to waste time worrying when she didn’t yet know what she was dealing with.Consequently, her wise, purposeful choice paved the way for the rest of us to be at peace in light of a pending prognosis.
2. FEEL THE FEELS WHEN YOU FEEL THEM. When my mom first announced that the cancer had returned, she was very matter of fact. Not a tremble in her voice, not a tear welling up. I thought perhaps this meant that she was in denial about the seriousness of it all. She’s a mover and a shaker and I wondered if she was just moving too fast to let the reality of this diagnosis sink in. Not so. What I discovered in the weeks that followed is that when she felt sad or afraid, she let herself feel it. When she felt like crying, she cried. She never stuffed her tears in an effort to keep someone from feeling uncomfortable. If she felt it, she let herself feel it…all the way through. Consequently, she moved through those emotions with rapid grace and wasn’t choking back unspent emotion during any part of this experience. There were tender moments with her siblings over the holidays, teary moments at the breast care center and sacred tears with her sweetheart after surgery. The moment came when she bravely chose to look at the incision. She let herself truly feel what that felt like. She moved gracefully from anxiety, grief and fear into peace and acceptance in mere moments.  Because my mom chose to fully enter into those moments when they presented themselves, when they passed, they were really over.                                                           
3. BELIEVE THAT THERE ARE SOME THINGS THAT ARE TOO HARD FOR YOU TO HANDLE.  My Mom takes issue with the old Christian adage “God won’t give you more than you can handle.” She will challenge you to find that in the Bible anywhere at all. First of all, she won’t like you suggesting that God gave her cancer. Second of all, she will ask what you even need God for if you can handle all of this yourself. My Mom leans hard on God’s love for her and believes that HE has what she needs for the hard times and that He will give it to her when she needs it. So, in the weeks prior to this major, life-changing surgery, she truly believed that because of God’s love for her, she had access to every bit of peace and joy that she would need to endure this hard thing. Therefore, she had it. Being at peace doesn’t mean you don’t feel the feels, but it does mean that you don’t have to be eclipsed by worry, eaten up with fear and lying awake at night agonizing over what might happen. There are some things you are going to need help with from people and from God, so humble yourself, ask for help and hold open your heart to receive it, for you are loved.                                                                                                                                                                              
4. DON’T WASTE TIME FEELING SORRY FOR YOURSELF.  This is the hardest one for me as I am prone to regular, poetic, introspective, self-pity sessions. I can make myself cry by thinking about ME and all of the things that have been hard for ME. Blech. My mom has two 12 inch + incisions across her chest and two grenade sized drains hanging out of her sides from tubes for a few more days. She has lost some parts of herself that are personal and identity-ish but you won’t hear her waxing on about what she has lost. She leads with gratitude. When we were leaving the hospital she was telling us about what excellent care she received, how kind the staff was and the way the Dr. kept his hand on her arm during a scary procedure. She swooned about the flowers people sent and has been so thankful for every visitor and every meal. She has already been checking on the people she cares about to find out how THEY are doing.  I can clearly see that it is only gratitude that can supplant self-pity. There is no other way.

This week, my mom taught me how to do hard things. Choose to close the door on worry. Fear not your own feelings. Lean hard on supernatural peace and joy that is yours because you are loved by God. Quit feeling sorry for yourself. If you can do these things, and you can, you will come through your hard thing aware of beauty all around you. Your precious ones will be dearer, your life a gift to you from God.

My dear friend Ruby sent me a message on the morning of surgery. She told me to remember to breathe. And that about sums up the way my Mom has taught me to do hard things. Breathe in the trouble, look it square in the face and breathe out peace. Breathe in beauty and breathe out gratitude. And that’s how to do hard things.

P.S. So when you have for real peace there is laughter to be had, even in hard waiting. Mom was late going into surgery by a couple of hours and this is how we passed the time. This isn’t denial, this is boredom. (If you would like to hire us for your pre-surgery entertainment hours, we will consider it.)