You Could... (You Just Choose Not To)

Admittedly, I'm not one for celebrating war. My journey of following Jesus into nonviolence has meant that I often distance myself from much of what my culture celebrates. Nonetheless, I'm reading a book by General Stanley McChrystal that reminded me of my own journey.

In talking about doing hard things, he offers this perspective:

Great athletes, and most very successful people in every endeavor, understand that few things in life are attained without effort commensurate with their value. Observers would watch Rangers carry heavy loads or lie in ambush positions for hours without stirring and say admiringly, ‘I could never do that.’ Of course, they could. They have just chosen not to. 

When we started our journey fostering kids, the most common response was a version of the same sentiment: “Oh wow, I could never do that.” And depending on my mood, I’d either smile politely or respond with what I was actually thinking:

Of course you could...
you just choose not to.

Now, I’m not saying everyone should become a foster parent. That would be a disaster (there are background checks for a reason). But what I am saying is this: we routinely underestimate what we’re capable of. Not because our bodies can’t handle it, but because our minds decide we don’t want to try. So we preemptively label something as "impossible" when what we really mean is "uncomfortable."

The sad part is that we do this with things that matter.

Things like forgiveness.
Like listening to someone who thinks differently.
Like changing our mind on something we used to hold dear.
Like showing up for someone else when it’s inconvenient.

But if you really want to know what someone values, look at what they’ve been willing to suffer for.

Foster parenting has not been easy. It's stretched our emotions, our routines, and our understanding of what love looks like when it’s messy and not guaranteed to be returned. It has required effort commensurate with its value. But that’s the point. The cost is high because the stakes are higher.

If you're curious, we adopted the only two kids we ever fostered. And it hasn't gotten any easier.

Just the opposite. In the decade or so that's followed, raising these kids has become much more challenging. It has pushed Michelle and me in ways that nothing else has. It has pushed me to the point (sometimes daily) where I want to say, "I could never do this."

Except I am doing it.

McChrystal's quote reminds me that there’s no magic separating “those people who can do hard things” from the rest of us. They’ve just chosen to do it anyway. If we're willing to look, we see people all around us offering us this path forward.

• Starting therapy
• Apologizing first
• Starting over
• Leaving what’s safe
• Staying when it would be easier to go
• Speaking truth to power when silence feels safer

We could do these things. We just usually don’t. Because they cost something. They ask more of us than comfort prefers to give. They force us to carry emotional loads or sit in the discomfort of ambiguity for hours without stirring. And we’d rather say “I could never do that” than admit we’ve simply chosen not to.

But what if we flipped the script?

What if we acknowledged that bravery isn’t some rare virtue found only in Rangers, saints, foster parents, or YouTubers? What if it's a muscle? One that grows each time we start leaning into the discomfort of what could be?

Because the truth is, most of the time, we can.

We just haven’t yet decided to.

Photo by Daniel Fatnes on Unsplash