You Must Do Hard Things

Growth often requires leaving what feels safe before we feel ready for what comes next.

The Little Dog Who Became Family

A few years ago, our family lost a beloved little dog named Bear.

He was a Maltese and looked like a tiny white stuffed animal.

My daughters adored him.

They had grown up with him, taken him on walks, played with him, and loved having him nearby.

Bear also taught me a few things about myself.

There were days when my daughters were not around and I had to walk him alone through the neighborhood.

A grown man driving a tough-looking truck while walking a tiny white fluffy dog did not exactly fit the macho image I may have once imagined for myself.

But Bear helped me become more comfortable simply being who I was.

Toward the end of his life, he began to slow down.

One night, I could tell he was struggling.

When I checked the next morning, he had left his usual sleeping place and gone into my daughters’ room.

He passed away on the floor beside them.

He loved those girls until the very end.

Anyone who has lost a pet understands that kind of grief.

They become part of the family, and when they leave, the house feels different.

Looking for Something New

After enough time had passed, my daughters began asking whether we could get another pet.

I was not ready for another dog.

I started considering something smaller and easier to care for.

Frogs sounded complicated.

Birds seemed like a lot of work.

Turtles did not feel quite right.

Then my sister suggested hermit crabs.

They were small.

They seemed manageable.

And my daughters could even choose new shells for them.

So for their birthdays, I brought home two little hermit crabs.

At the time, I did not realize how much those tiny creatures could teach me about growth.

The Moment Between Shells

Hermit crabs live inside empty seashells.

The shell provides safety and protection.

But as a crab grows, its old shell eventually becomes too small.

It must leave that shell and find another.

During that transition, the crab is exposed.

It is no longer protected by the familiar place it has outgrown, and it has not yet reached the safety of something new.

It is vulnerable.

Whenever our crabs felt threatened, they disappeared deep inside their shells.

They did not want to come out.

Neither do we.

We often retreat when we feel uncertain, exposed, uncomfortable, or afraid.

But there are moments when remaining inside the old shell is no longer safe.

It may feel comfortable, but it has become too small for who we are becoming.

Vulnerability Is Necessary for Growth

We usually want growth without vulnerability.

We want progress without uncertainty.

We want confidence before taking the first step.

We want to know the new shell will fit before leaving the old one.

But growth rarely works that way.

There is almost always a space between what was and what will be.

A season when we feel exposed.

A moment when the old life no longer fits but the new life does not yet feel like home.

That space can be frightening.

But it is also where transformation happens.

The vulnerability is not evidence that something has gone wrong.

It may be proof that you are growing.

“I Can” Is Not Always Enough

We often hear the encouraging phrase:

“I can do hard things.”

That is a powerful truth.

But a woman named Mary Stallings shared an insight that takes it one step further.

As she reflected on the phrase, she felt the Lord impress upon her:

“No—you must do hard things.”

Hard things are not occasional interruptions to an otherwise easy life.

They are part of how we become the people God needs us to be.

That does not mean God delights in our pain.

It means He understands that strength, faith, patience, courage, and compassion cannot always be developed through comfort.

We can do hard things.

But sometimes we also must do them.

Expect the Hard

We are often shocked when life becomes difficult.

We assume something must be wrong because a choice feels uncomfortable.

We wonder whether we made a mistake because the path demands more than we expected.

But if difficulty is part of growth, then hard moments should not always surprise us.

Starting school can be hard.

Moving can be hard.

Beginning a new job can be hard.

Marriage can be hard.

Parenthood can be hard.

Healing can be hard.

Apologizing can be hard.

Leaving an unhealthy pattern can be hard.

Following God when the outcome is uncertain can be hard.

Expecting difficulty does not make us pessimistic.

It prepares us to interpret the struggle correctly.

Remember Your First Shells

Think back on some of the first moments when you felt truly vulnerable.

Your first day at a new school.

Your first dance.

Your first date.

Moving away from home.

Beginning college.

Starting a career.

Standing in front of a group.

Entering a new relationship.

Becoming a parent.

At the time, those experiences may have felt enormous.

You may have wanted to retreat.

You may have doubted whether you were ready.

But look at what happened because you came out of your shell.

You learned.

You adapted.

You developed confidence.

The experience that once felt overwhelming eventually became something you could handle.

What was once a new shell became familiar.

“I Didn’t Want to Go”

My daughters once attended a girls camp with several young women from their church group.

They were hesitant.

They loved being home.

Home felt familiar and safe.

They did not know everyone attending, so camp felt uncertain and uncomfortable.

But they went.

On the final night, the girls gathered around a campfire and shared what the experience had meant to them.

My daughters noticed a pattern.

Girl after girl began by saying something similar to:

“I didn’t really want to come.”

But nearly every one ended with:

“I’m so glad I did.”

That is often how growth feels.

We resist it before we experience it.

We fear it before we understand it.

And afterward, we are grateful we did not remain hidden inside what felt safe.

Your Old Shell May Be Too Small

Some of the things we call safety may actually be limitation.

A familiar routine can become a shell.

A fear can become a shell.

A belief about ourselves can become a shell.

We say:

  • I am not good at meeting people.

  • I could never do that.

  • I am too shy.

  • I am not ready.

  • I have always been this way.

  • This is just who I am.

But sometimes those statements are not descriptions.

They are walls.

They keep us inside an identity we have outgrown.

The shell protected us once.

But now it may be preventing us from becoming more.

Confidence Comes After the Step

We often wait until we feel confident before acting.

But confidence usually follows action.

The first conversation feels awkward.

The first attempt feels clumsy.

The first step feels uncertain.

The first prayer may feel weak.

The first day may feel uncomfortable.

Then we do it again.

Slowly, what was unfamiliar becomes manageable.

The shell that once felt strange begins to fit.

We do not become ready and then act.

Very often, we act—and through acting, we become ready.

God Is With You Between Shells

The most frightening part of change is often the feeling that we are alone.

We have left what was familiar.

We cannot yet see where we belong.

But God does not abandon us in the vulnerable spaces.

He is present in the transition.

He knows what we have outgrown.

He knows what lies ahead.

He knows the fears we carry between the old shell and the new one.

President Russell M. Nelson taught:

“The Lord has more in mind for you than you have for yourself. You have been reserved and preserved for this time and place. You can do hard things.”

God sees capacities in us that we cannot yet see.

The difficult experience may be helping those capacities emerge.

Hard Does Not Mean Wrong

We often confuse difficulty with direction.

When something is hard, we assume we must be on the wrong path.

But some of the most important things in life are difficult precisely because they matter.

Forgiveness is hard.

Commitment is hard.

Discipline is hard.

Growth is hard.

Honesty is hard.

Being vulnerable is hard.

Choosing faith over fear is hard.

The presence of difficulty does not always mean turn back.

Sometimes it means keep going.

Vulnerability Is Not Weakness

Vulnerability is often treated like weakness.

But vulnerability requires courage.

It takes strength to admit:

  • I do not know.

  • I need help.

  • I care about this.

  • I might fail.

  • I am afraid.

  • I want to try anyway.

Hiding may protect us from embarrassment.

But it can also protect us from connection, growth, opportunity, and joy.

Coming out of the shell means accepting the possibility of discomfort.

It also creates the possibility of becoming more.

Anchoring Quote

“The Lord has more in mind for you than you have for yourself. You have been reserved and preserved for this time and place. You can do hard things.” — Russell M. Nelson

Practical Reflection

Consider these questions:

  • What shell currently feels safe but too small?

  • What difficult thing have I been avoiding?

  • Am I waiting to feel confident before taking action?

  • What past experience proves that I can survive vulnerability?

  • Is something hard because it is wrong—or because it requires growth?

  • What might God be helping me become through this experience?

You do not have to know exactly what the new shell will look like.

You only need enough courage to take the next step toward it.

Today’s Daily Challenge

Choose one small way to come out of your shell today.

You might:

  • Start a conversation.

  • Ask for help.

  • Attend something you have been avoiding.

  • Apply for an opportunity.

  • Share an honest feeling.

  • Begin a task you have delayed.

  • Try something you may not immediately be good at.

  • Take one step toward a needed change.

Do not wait until vulnerability disappears.

Move forward with it.

Closing

Hermit crabs cannot grow while remaining forever inside the same shell.

Neither can we.

At some point, the place that once protected us becomes too small.

We must step into the open.

We must experience uncertainty.

We must trust that another place of growth is waiting.

The space between shells may feel dangerous.

It may feel uncomfortable.

It may make you want to retreat.

But it is also evidence that you have grown beyond where you were.

You can do hard things.

But more than that, sometimes you must do hard things.

Not because God wants life to be painful, but because He sees more in you than you currently see in yourself.

Come out of the shell.

Take the next step.

Accept the vulnerability.

The new space may feel unfamiliar at first.

But it may hold more confidence, opportunity, faith, and room to grow than the old one ever could.

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