
The Changing Meaning of Hard Work
Every generation carries its own definition of hard work. For my mother, hard work meant walking to school, tapping rubber, carrying firewood, and making sure the family survived. For her, survival and sacrifice were inseparable. When she told me these stories, I often felt a quiet guilt rising inside me. How could I, living in such comfort, ever match her grit?
But the truth is, each generation redefines hard work. For the war era, it was about survival. For Gen X, it was about building stability. For Gen Y, the conversation shifted to balance. And for the generations that follow, “hard work” might even sound like a foreign word. Why strain when technology makes everything easier? Why labor when machines can do the lifting?
Yet, there is a danger here. If we reduce life to only convenience, we lose the very thing that gives meaning to joy. True joy has always been tied to effort. Without the sweat, there is no sweetness.
A Lesson at the Barbecue
This truth became vivid one morning during our summer break. My son Aden woke up with a spark in his eyes. “Dad, I have a great feeling about today. It is going to be the best day ever.”
I was stunned. Usually, Aden is the kind of child who declares defeat before trying. “I will fail,” he says, even before the attempt. So to hear him declare victory at the start of the day was extraordinary.
I asked him why. His answer was simple: “Because today we are going to have a barbecue.”
The story goes back a few days. He had told me, out of the blue, “Dad, how nice if we could have a barbecue again.” I could hear the longing in his voice. As a father, I wanted to honor that wish. I quickly arranged it, and the day had finally come.
That morning, something shifted in him. He woke up early. He prepared his own things. He even did his mathematics without me needing to nag. For once, I saw initiative come from within. And it struck me: joy was not born from the barbecue itself. It was born from anticipation, effort, and the champion mindset he carried into the day.
I told him, “In life, when you declare yourself a champion, you have already won half the battle.”
Why Effort Leads to Joy
As we prepared for that barbecue, I reminded my children that the best things in life are always tied to effort. Dreams without effort are daydreams. Real dreams demand pursuit.
I shared how I pursued their mother, my dream girl. A decade into marriage, I am still learning to love her in the way she feels most loved. It is hard work, but it is beautiful work. Parenting too is hard work. It stretches me beyond my comfort, yet it brings the deepest reward.
This is why I often tell them: enjoyment without effort is shallow, but joy with effort is lasting. The difference is grit.
Biology itself confirms this. Our brains are wired for joy through effort:
- Dopamine rewards progress toward a goal, yet today it is hijacked by endless notifications and swipes.
- Oxytocin is released in real bonding—parenting, friendship, intimacy—yet now people seek it through AI companionship and digital substitutes. In fact, a 2025 Harvard Business Review study reported that the number one use case for generative AI is therapy and companionship. Think about that. Out of all possible uses, we are outsourcing our deepest human need to machines.
- Serotonin comes from recognition earned through contribution, but today it is hijacked by likes and followers.
- Endorphins are released through exertion and perseverance, but today we replace them with artificial stimulants or quick entertainment.
The contrast is sobering. What biology designed for sustainable joy, culture has hijacked for instant pleasure. Yet shortcuts never satisfy.
Real joy is not found in avoiding effort. It is found in embracing it.
Choosing Effort in Everyday Life
I often remind my children of the Christmas songs they once practiced. At first, the notes were clumsy and the memorization unfamiliar. But with time, practice, and daily effort, they were able to play those songs for friends during Christmas. In that moment, their dream had come true. Not because it dropped from the sky, but because they persisted.
The same is true for our scripture memory. Every morning, we set aside five minutes. At first, each new passage feels impossible. But day after day, unfamiliar becomes familiar. Over two years, they have memorized 24 passages in both English and Chinese. That is 48 scriptures hidden in their hearts. Not because they are naturally gifted, but because they embraced the rhythm of effort.
I often tell them life can be viewed in ten areas: purpose, health, love, family, wisdom, finances, friendships, career, rest, and contribution. Every single area requires effort. Health demands discipline. Love requires sacrifice. Friendships need maintenance. Even play requires preparation. Camping is enjoyable, but someone must pack the tents, set them up, and cook the food.
So the choice is simple: we either embrace effort as a lifestyle, or we drift into entitlement. The former builds joy. The latter erodes it.
The Reverse That Redefines It All
The world tells us that comfort is the goal. Advertisements sell us ease. Technology promises shortcuts. Yet the more we outsource effort, the less joy we find.
The paradox is this: the best things in life will always be hard. Parenting is hard, but it is also where unconditional love is felt most deeply. Marriage is hard, but it is also where covenant becomes real. Faith is hard, but it is also where purpose is revealed.
Joy is never found in the absence of effort. It is found in the presence of it.
So let us not run from what is hard. Let us embrace it. Because when effort becomes our lifestyle, joy is no longer fleeting. It becomes the legacy we live, and the inheritance we pass on.