Matthew Hennessey, in today’s issue of the Wall Street Journal’s “Free Expression,” claims that we are at the start of what he is calling “Struggle Summer.” Gas prices are high, as are food costs. The situation with Iran is murky and unresolved (and may not be for who knows how long). Domestic politics is full of squabbling (tell me something I don’t know). Hennessey has a doomsday platitude for every situation, and ends his piece with a sarcastic “Happy semiquincentennial summer. Enjoy your pasta salad.”
To be fair, he isn’t wrong that Americans are struggling with high prices of gas, food, and electricity, as well as concerned about the war with Iran and many other issues. But is this summer—the summer of 2026—going to be uniquely difficult? If I am fortunate enough to receive the blessing of 80 summers over the course of my life, I doubt that I will look back on this particular one and single it out among the rest as the Summer containing the most Struggle.
It could be the summer of 2018—the summer I had my fifth baby—that ends up being my hardest one. (Although I dozed through and don’t actually remember much of it, so perhaps not). It could be the summer my parents divorced when I was 30 and in the thick of raising four small children. It could be some future summer when I experience something that I haven’t yet imagined.
What I do know is that there has never been, and never will be, a summer or a winter or a year or a life without struggle. This is not news, or even newsworthy. Welcome to one of the precise definitions of what it means to be human! Struggle should never surprise us or shock us, as though we feel we are somehow owed a struggle-free life.
To be human is to struggle.
Tell me the story of Odysseus without struggle. Tell me the story of Jane Eyre without struggle. Tell me the story of Hamlet without struggle. Tell me the story of Cinderella without struggle. Tell me the story of Frodo and Sam without struggle. Tell me the story of your life. . .without struggle.
Without struggle, there is no story to tell.
To complain about or to wish away the struggles and difficulties of our lives is a small-souled practice. It is far more noble to acknowledge the hardships we face, and then, after giving thanks to God for them, go out bravely and overcome them, or endure them. Not all struggles can be overcome; some must be endured.
To wish away struggle is not only to deny what is essentially human, but to reject the means by which our own personal transformation often occurs. And how can we bear one another’s burdens if no one has any burdens left to bear?
And so, Mr. Hennessey, I cheerfully refuse to submit to your fearmongering predictions for a summer of struggle. I am quite aware of all the difficulties in my life, and I hope that despite any adversity I face, I can choose to follow in the footsteps of my grandmother and laugh with a merry heart, without fear of the future.
Here’s to a Merry Heart Summer!
-Shannon
AI Disclaimer: No part of this essay was written using AI. All of the organization, ideas, writing and editing are a product of my fallible and finite mind. I have never used AI to write anything, and I never will.
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