Richelle Hofer

Finding Strength in Struggles

Does anyone ever feel adequately equipped to be a parent? I never have. And if you do, your kids will likely humble you at some point.

You think parenting will get easier as your kids grow up, but I think it actually gets harder. Discipline gets harder. Communication gets harder. And challenges like potty training and playground squabbles turn into higher stakes challenges like broken hearts and business ventures.

I often find myself questioning my ability to guide my children through life’s challenges. If you’ve followed me on Facebook for very long, you know that parenting Zach has been a rollercoaster ride of emotions, filled with moments of joy, shock, and everything in between. At times, it feels like my words fall on deaf ears, and I wonder if I’m doing it right. Am I a good parent? Am I giving him what he needs to succeed? But last week, a random chat in the kitchen reframed everything for me.

Sometimes we go days without connecting, so when your 18 year old wants to talk (even when you’re cleaning the kitchen), you listen. Zach was talking about a friend whose parents cope with stress in unhealthy ways, and then he turned the conversation toward me. He said, “That’s one thing I feel like you’ve taught us… well, you didn’t really teach it to us, but we’ve watched you deal with a lot, Mom, and you really did it right.”

He probably didn’t know it, but his words hit me on raw nerves. Fully aware of my imperfections and shortcomings, I said, “I certainly haven’t done it perfectly,”

“But you got counseling, wrote in your journals, and prayed and stuff, and that’s the right way to deal with hard things.” he said.

He headed down to his room and I just stood there.

The last few years my boys have watched me struggle through some really hard things. Sometimes it took all of my energy just to survive. I often felt like I was standing on the edge. Sometimes I felt like I’d actually careened off the edge and the climb back up seemed insurmountable. I felt guilty that I had to spend so much time on my survival… felt like I might not be giving my family what they needed… felt like I was failing them.

My boys watched me dig deep for the strength to start over. They watched me inch back up the mountain.

Zach’s acknowledgment of this process was a revelation. It made me realize that, despite my fears and doubts, I was showing him the way back up. In the chaos of my struggles, he watched me seek help, process emotions, and lean on faith.

As parents, we often feel like it’s our responsibility to tell our children about the keys to success. Yet, the reality is that they are constantly observing us, absorbing our responses to the inevitable struggles that we have to walk through. Our most profound contributions to their lives may not come from direct instruction but from watching us climb back up the mountain.

If my struggles paved a path for my boys to find strength and resilience, then it was all worth it. Each tear shed, each moment of doubt, all the blood, sweat and tears… worth it.

In a world that often glorifies the pursuit of perfection, embrace the beauty of our imperfect journeys. We’ll never get it exactly right. We are not here to shield our children from pain but to equip them with the tools to face it head-on. Let your kids watch you struggle. Let them watch you climb back up.

Every hard moment you navigate can serve as a lesson in resilience, every tear shed can be a testament to courage, and every prayer offered can become a source of hope.

We are all learning and growing together—one imperfect lesson at a time.