“Hard seasons end. Strong people stay.”
A line for the middle of the season — why the word seasons does the heavy lifting.
The first half of this line does something quiet and powerful: it calls hard times “seasons.” A season is, by definition, temporary. Snow never pretended to last all year. Naming the struggle a season puts an expiration date on despair.
The second half — “strong people stay” — clears up a myth about strength. Strength here is not heroic. Nobody leaps over the season. Strong is simply: still here, still trying, still kind. The stay is the superpower.
“Hard seasons end. Strong people stay.”
So hold the two halves together. The season will change; that is the nature of seasons. Your job is only to still be standing when the light shifts back — a little worn, a little wiser, unbroken.
If you are in the middle of it now: you do not have to enjoy this chapter. You only have to outlast it. People like you have outlasted a million hard seasons before. You stay. That is enough.