This past summer, I vacationed with my mom’s side of the family. I enjoyed drinking my dad’s brewed coffee, giggling with my sisters, and having late-night conversations with loved ones, often on the porch.
One night, in the midst of a deep conversation with my mom, she said: “Anna, maybe you don’t have to try so hard.” At first, I was offended.
But the more I thought about the context of the situation, the more I realized she was right. Maybe we don’t have to try so hard.
I don’t know about you, but I feel my life has been built on trying harder.
Many of us believe that if we try harder, we’ll get more. If we try harder in our jobs, maybe we’ll get a promotion and more positive feedback. Maybe our hard work will be exalted for our coworkers to see.
If we try harder in our relationships, maybe our flaws won’t be so prevalent, and maybe we’ll have an Instagram-worthy love story. Maybe we’ll be more certain of our choices.
If we try harder in our friendships, maybe they’ll last longer, and maybe conflict won’t occur. Maybe it’ll be easier to sweep things under the rug.
If we try harder with our children or our parents, maybe they’ll love us more and maybe we can talk without disagreeing. Maybe they’ll realize all the work we did for them. Maybe they’ll realize we aren’t at fault.
If we try harder in school, maybe our grades will take us farther, and maybe the academic validation will fill more holes in our hearts. Maybe the more we know, the farther we’ll go.
If we try harder with our finances, maybe the money will create the life we’ve always wanted, and maybe we can finally prove ourselves to others. Maybe we’ll be happier when the bills don’t pile up so high.
We try.
We try harder at the gym to lose more weight.
We try harder to find our purpose.
We try harder to fight for what we think is right.
We try harder to convince others that our political candidate is better than theirs.
We try harder to keep in touch, to dress better, to understand, to be on time, and to travel farther.
So, we try, try, and then we try a little harder.
Why are the things we care about most so…dang…hard?
Is it possible that our hearts believe that the harder we try, the more we’ll get and the better we’ll feel?
Probably.
We might be missing something, though. Where hard(er) work is glorified, is it possible that God is calling us to something else? Is it possible that our tendency to over-strive distracts us from what might be right in front of us?
What if, amid all the trying, God is giving us the strength to let go? What if the act of resting in God’s peace gives us the courage to move on? What if the things we’re scared to lose make way for all the beautiful things we’ll gain?
We were never meant to try this hard.
Maybe Colbie Callait’s 2014 “Try” recording was right.
Sometimes people leave, sometimes every attempt fails, sometimes things are short-lived, sometimes we make mistakes more than once, and sometimes we’re wrong. Sometimes, things just don’t work out despite all the long days, prayers, tears, and trying.
Sometimes, there’s no making sense of it. The hard stuff wasn’t meant to be sugar-coated.
I have found that it’s in the labor and struggles (and that dang trying) that we often meet a side of God and ourselves that we’ve never met before. And often, it’s in the “this makes no sense” areas of burned bridges and raised fists that we discover this important truth: despite our circumstances, there is still a God who draws near and is still loving and kind.
In our declarations to try harder, is it possible that God is asking, “My child, what would happen if you just let go?”
As I look outside at the autumn foliage, I have to wonder how tightly the trees hold onto their dying leaves before they finally get the strength to let go. We face a similar question. In the changes of autumn and out of fear of winter, we become people so deeply rooted in the dang trying that we forget about the promise of spring.