I had coffee with my younger self.

I told her that life is going to be so, so hard.

That there would be many times she would think of giving up.

I showed her the tattoo on my hip, now a bit faded and threaded with silver stretch marks.

“See it? It’s a wave. It’s because you never know what the next wave will bring. Just like life.

Notice the semicolon? It’s because one day, you try to quit, and the police officer who saves you tells you that the waves don’t just beat you down. They don’t just bring pain. They bring something new every day.

He was so sincere. He didn’t even know how much we love the beach. But he understood the mystery of the waves.”

We hope we get the job (or that the manuscript sells).

We hope this guy’s “The One.”

We hope for positive pregnancy tests and negative cancer tests.

And although these are all good things, what happens when we don’t get them?

Suffering either produces perseverance (leading to character-building and eventual hope) or it makes you feel like you’re on a long road to nowhere.

I had to start with the verse on this one because if you read what I’m about to say first, you might judge me. I don’t blame you. I judge me, too.