A Deeper Kind of Hard

This week was the end of my 1L year (sort of; there’s still Joint Journal Competition). I spent the first few days studying (or trying to convince myself to study). On Thursday morning I headed to school for my Constitutional Law final. After four hours, fifteen minutes, fifteen pages, and waiting in a long line to turn in a printed copy, it was all over. I walked slowly out to my car and headed home.

No, my fifteen page exam was not a long one. It was probably on the short side.

I didn’t feel intensely relieved like I did after exams last semester. I think my emotions had been wrung dry. I simply had no more energy to give. It was a hard year, and a hard semester.

Looking back, it’s strange to me that it was so hard. On the surface, the last few months appear so simple. I went to classes for a few hours each day. I did a lot of reading and thinking. I wrote a couple of papers and did some role plays. Occasionally I commented in class. In between all of that I was well taken care of: plenty of food, shelter, clothing, and spiritual and family resources, even leisure time.

But there is a deeper side to the last year, and especially the last few months. That is where it was hard.

Fall semester, for me, was about survival. Shortly after school began, I realized law school would be a different kind of hard. I expected to work hard, to spend many hours studying and doing homework. What I didn’t expect was how hard it would be to do the work. School had always come easily to me, but law school was different. It didn’t come naturally and intuitively. There were parts I didn’t enjoy (for example, all of criminal law). I wondered if I was really capable of succeeding.

But, as Mom has always advised me to do, I hung in there and finished the semester.

Spring semester I was less worried about survival, but I was confronted with weakness. I found myself weaker than I thought in almost every way.

Where I had prided myself on confidence and ability, I felt insecure and unqualified. Where I considered myself resilient, I felt protracted resistance. Physically, mentally, emotionally, socially; each area felt frail and fragile. Sometimes it was all I could do to get through the next assignment or the next week. Often I felt I was reaching a bare minimum of accomplishment, not the excellence of my past ideals. Many things touched me more deeply than I expected, almost to my very core.

I was a person who used to run ten miles a day without a second thought struggling to get through a mile and wondering how all that lead ended up in my shoes.

It was a deeper kind of hard.

Finally, a couple of weeks ago, I felt like I had turned a corner. I wasn’t at the end yet, but I could see it. I knew I was going to make it. On Thursday as I drove home, I was just grateful to be done.

Looking back, two things got me though the semester. First, was reliance on Jesus Christ. If there was one area of my life that didn’t feel weaker than I expected, it was in spirituality. I am by no means a spiritual giant, but I knew the Lord brought me here and He was aware of me, my weaknesses, and what He wanted me to do. While all my strength felt under siege, that knowledge was a rock to hang on to and a source of hope.

“And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.” Ether 12:27.

My other strength has been my parents. I feel so blessed to have parents who support and encourage and cheer for me in everything I do. Parents who believe in me when I have a hard time believing in myself. Parents who are righteous and committed to God, each other, and their family. The other day I was thinking about the simple refuge my home has always been. As I paused I had a little glimpse of the impact my parents have had on my life. I was amazed and grateful.

So I made it to the end of the semester. And I feel reasonably confident I’ll make it through the next two years. I know my weaknesses aren’t gone, but eventually they will become strong.

In the meantime, I’m getting back to work. Supposedly, my 1L year is over; but that ignores the monster that is Joint Journal Competition. JJC is a writing competition for those who want to join one of the law school’s published journals. Those who chose to participate are given one week to distill a 600 page packet into a 10 page “comment.” So even though I’m technically a “rising 2L,” working on JJC makes me feel like I’m still a sort of quasi-1L.

I’m also making plans for the summer, getting back into running and biking, doing a little exploring, taking some classes, and making myself useful. As far as next year goes, I’m trying to approach it as Joseph Smith described in D&C 127:2: “[N]evertheless, deep water is what I am wont to swim in.”