Would Life Be Easier Without the Hard Things?

Part 2: When the answer is both Yes AND No

Happy Friday Friends,

I hope your week has held more mercies than messes, but if not, grab that cup of coffee (or glass of wine if it’s evening) and settle in for our weekly chat.

Last week, we talked about the heartbreaking question Jones asked me: “Would our lives have been easier if he hadn’t had his heart transplant?” We walked through what we CAN and CAN’T do as parents when our children carry hard things. I was so encouraged to see so many of you connecting to the idea that being their guide through it is a privilege and a gift from God.

This week, we’re digging into the other struggle his question brought to the surface for me: Would life be easier without the hard things?

Would life have been easier without being plunged into a difficult diagnosis my first year of motherhood? Would life have been easier if I didn’t have to hold my son down for blood draws while he screamed and cried? Would life have been easier without the medications, the appointments, the insurance annoyances, the lifelong uncertainty?

The short answer: yes. Absolutely yes… but that’s not the whole truth.

I hate that he has had to suffer. I hate that we each carry our own scars because of it. I hate that I take anxiety medication to help me handle it all. I would never have chosen this for us.

And yet…

I have seen God use every single bit of it. I have seen His provision, His comfort, His healing power. I have seen His church be His hands and feet. I have seen that it is okay to be weak because He is strong. I have seen that I never had complete control anyway… and that is a freeing concept.

I have seen good come from it, and my faith has been forever changed. And there are things I wouldn’t trade.

So how do we hold both truths: that life would be easier without the hard things, AND that the hard things have made life so much richer?

That’s what we’re sitting in today.

📌 March Mom Mood Board: Growth in the Waiting — This month’s carousel is all about savoring the slow unfolding of spring (and life). Lent, spring sports, growth that happens in the in-between. If you need permission to embrace the waiting, start here.

🛒 Easter Basket Ideas for Elementary Boys — Because filling Easter baskets gets HARDER as they get older! I rounded up my favorite finds for elementary-aged boys (the ones that aren’t just more candy). My personal favorites are these scripture cards for older boys and younger boys! Check it out if you’re still scrambling!

✝️Last Week’s Faithful Friday - If you missed last week, where our discussion started after Jones asked me this very difficult question. Catch up here to read about the blessing of walking through the hard stuff with them!

“Scars” by I AM THEY

Darkest waters and deepest pain

I wouldn’t trade it for anything

‘Cause my brokenness brought me to you

And these wounds are a story you’ll use

So I’m thankful for these scars

‘Cause without them, I wouldn’t know your heart

And I know they’ll always tell of who you are

So forever I am thankful for the scars

This one feels super personal. This song was released right in the middle of the most difficult season of my life. Jones had been diagnosed with a bicuspid aortic valve, which had left his heart muscle enlarged and led him into heart failure. We knew where the road was headed... we knew that scars, both physical and emotional, were in our future.

I remember where I was when I first heard this song. I remember pulling over my car and crying, filled with so many competing emotions. “Darkest waters and deepest fears” were pulling me in a direction I didn’t want to go. But God, as He often does, was pulling me back towards Him.

I listened to this song over and over as we continued on our journey that year, and I still listen to it now when I need to be reminded that scars tell the story of who we are and what God has done.

Jones has a pale white scar that travels down the center of his chest, as well as three circular scars on his belly from his surgery. Towards the end of the song, I find a prayer in the lyrics for my son and for myself: “And with my life, I’ll tell of who you are; so forever, I am thankful for the scars.”

I hope Jones will remember what God has done in his life. And when he can’t see it, I’ll be there to remind him. Our wounds can be painful... but God will always use them for His glory.

“Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”

Romans 5:3-5

I am not sure I truly understood this verse until what we went through with Jones. I think it is probably that way for many of us. We know scripture, we memorize it, we talk about it... But sometimes we have to go through things to really feel it.

Paul tells us something pretty crazy here. He tells us we should “rejoice in our sufferings.” Let’s not forget this was the same guy who told us in Philippians 4:6-7 that we should “be anxious for nothing.” So let’s get this straight: we are supposed to be happy when we face really painful things, AND we shouldn’t worry about anything?

On the surface, that feels like pretty backward thinking!

But as we continue on in this verse, as well as in Philippians, we see that there is a method to Paul’s madness.

Our sufferings in this world produce something incredibly special when we let them. Let’s break it down together:

Suffering produces endurance ~ Endurance, simply put, is our ability to make it through something difficult. It isn’t something we are all born with; it is something you build. And you can’t build it without facing hard things.

But endurance wasn’t the end goal here...

Endurance produces character ~ Character here isn’t “becoming a better person.” It’s being changed by something you didn’t choose. Jones’s diagnosis changed him. It changed me. We faced something unimaginably hard (suffering). We dug into our faith in God, we allowed ourselves to be weak so He could be strong (endurance), and we watched our hearts change (character).

But character wasn’t the end goal here...

Character produces hope ~ And here is where it gets really good. This hope Paul is talking about isn’t wishing things turn out okay. It’s the difference between hoping FOR a good outcome and hoping IN a God who has already proven Himself faithful in your worst moments. And by the time you reach hope in this verse, you’ve already accumulated evidence: you suffered, you stayed, you watched your character change, and you watched God show up in the middle of it. This hope isn’t blind. It’s built on something you actually lived through.

Over and over again, people would ask me how I did it. Over and over again, I was told how amazed they were by my strength. But the truth is, God poured His love into me day after day as I suffered, as I endured, as my character was being shaped… and because of that, I found a hope that would never disappoint me. Because when people fail, when medical research fails, when my own strength fails... His love is still there.

And this, my friends, is how we hold onto both truths: this life would be easier without suffering, AND the suffering produces such rich treasures in this life if we let it.

But here is where theology meets real life...

Carrying pain, grief, and hardship with faith is not a step you only take once, and some days the “and yet” feels impossible to get to. Fear doesn’t just disappear because you have seen God show up in miraculous ways.

If you have ever read David’s Psalms, you see clear examples of him holding both fear and desperation as well as praise and thanksgiving:

• Psalm 13 (ESV) ~ “How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?” turns into “I will sing the Lord’s praise” by the end.

• Psalm 22 (ESV) ~ Opens in total abandonment, ends in worship.

• Psalm 42 (ESV) ~ “Why are you downcast, O my soul?” followed immediately by “Put your hope in God.”

The Psalms are basically a masterclass in holding both truths. David, messily and honestly, practiced his faith. He brought it all, anger, grief, hope, and praise, before God because he knew He could handle it. And we can too.

I can be grateful for a scar that I wish my child had never received. I can be angry that our family has had to endure such pain while also praising God for showing up. I can celebrate milestones while also dreading the next appointment. I don’t have to resolve the tension before coming to God... He can and will help me hold it all.

He is producing a hope in me that will never be taken away. That is the treasure the suffering produces.

When Jones brought this question to me, we were in the Publix parking lot waiting for a train to pass so we could walk home. This struck me because it felt like God had set the scene. He knew I might need a minute to gather my thoughts on this one.

Jones is a very inquisitive child, so big questions aren’t new territory for us. But this was the first time he asked something that holds too much for a quick answer.

I turned to face him, held both of his shoulders, and told him that if I was being honest -- yes, our lives would be easier and less complicated if he hadn’t had a heart transplant. But easier does not mean better.

I dug into the beautiful things we have seen and the invisible gifts we have received because of it. I talked about the extra snuggles, the nights I got to sleep curled up next to him in a hospital bed, the milestones we celebrated in such big ways. I talked about the way we got to watch people show up for our family. I told him about the God winks that deepened my faith… and that I knew would deepen his one day, too.

And lastly, I told him that I believed God was going to use his story in a big way. We talked about the word testimony; that sharing our stories of how God shows up can bring other people to faith. That one day, he might lead someone else to Jesus when he shares the miracles God has done in his life.

This was not an easy conversation. But it got me thinking about how I want to handle the ones that are coming, because there will be more. Here is what I have decided:

• I will never shelter Jones from the hard truths of his life. When he is ready, I will answer him honestly, with patience and faith.

• It’s okay that I don’t have all the answers, and I can be open with him about that. It will serve as a reminder that God is the only one who does.

• I will remind him that being thankful is a practice, not a feeling. He may not wake up every morning feeling grateful for his medical history, and that is okay. He can take those feelings to God and let God work in them.

• I will keep the evidence in front of him: reminding him of what God has done when he can’t see it himself.

• I will encourage him to draw near to God in every struggle, reminding him that suffering produces endurance, endurance produces character, and character produces a hope that cannot be taken away.

As you move through the hard questions your children will inevitably ask, is there a way you can approach them with the truth that yes, it might be easier... but easier isn’t always better?

Lord,

We don't always know how to hold the hard things and the good things at the same time.

Help us bring it all to You anyway, honestly, messily, and without having it figured out first.

Pour Your love into us today and produce in us a hope that circumstances cannot touch.

Amen.

Until next week, Blair

Because Motherhood is hard. But you? You’re held.

“Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.”

{Mathew 5:7}