Rich Watson resides in Hope Mills, North Carolina, near Fort Bragg. He served in the United States Air Force for 20 years and has an education in Psychology, with other degrees in Education and social sciences. He has been happily married for almost 25 years and has four amazing children, a soon-to-be son-in-law, one daughter-in-law, and an awesome granddaughter. Since his retirement from the military, he currently works for a veteran service organization in their mental health department. He and his team provide resiliency-based retreats for individuals, couples, and families. He joined the Church in 1996 and has had the pleasure of serving in varying leadership roles, some of them multiple times. (One of the “benefits” of moving so often during his military career.) These include ward mission leader, elders quorum president, high priest group leader, Young Men presidency, branch president, bishopric, high council, and more. Rich has also shared his insights in a Leading Saints Podcast, “Ministering to Veterans in Your Ward.”
Enter Rich…
We’ve all heard the classic one-liners people throw around in hard times:
- “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”
- “Feel lcky—you don’t have it as bad as [insert worse-case scenario].”
- “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.”
- “You should be grateful… at least you have ____.”
- “It is what it is.”
- And of course, for my fellow veterans: “Embrace the suck.”
The intent behind these may be sincere, but let’s be honest, they often fall flat. When someone is deep in a hard season, those phrases can feel more like pressure than comfort.
The truth is, we all go through difficult times. It’s inevitable. And the goal isn’t to pretend we’re fine or to just “soldier through.” The real invitation is to move through adversity with faith instead of fear.
When we look at resilience through a gospel lens, the question becomes: How do we move from simply surviving to truly thriving? How do we hold onto hope when thriving feels out of reach and surviving is taking everything we’ve got?
I’ve found myself in each of these stages at different times, sometimes within the same week. As a leader, a veteran, a husband, a parent, and a member of the Church, I’ve had seasons where I was just getting by, and others where I felt spiritually strong and grounded. What I’ve learned is that growth doesn’t usually come in leaps—it comes in slow, steady movement through four stages: Surviving, Coping, Living, and Thriving.
Building gospel-centric resilience through these stages is like developing spiritual muscle memory. It doesn’t just happen. It’s built, deliberately and with intentionality, often through struggle.
So let’s walk through these four stages and explore how gospel principles can help us build strength in every season and consider ways we can share this wisdom to support members as we lead.
Surviving – The Daily Battle – Be Still
There are seasons in life when just getting through the day feels like a miracle. The focus isn’t on growth, goals, or even hope—it’s about surviving. Breathing, doing the bare minimum and praying it’s enough. Survival mode isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s a sign that you’re human and you’re still fighting, even when everything in you wants to give up.
When I’ve been in that space, the typical church answers didn’t seem to suffice. Scripture study didn’t feel inspiring, and prayer felt like silence. But one thought stayed with me: “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). Not “be strong.” Not “fix it.” Just—be still and know. Even in some of my darkest times, I knew I could do that.
In transparency, that is the type of permission we need to give ourselves and it is the type of permission that survival mode demands. The permission to stop and just be in your own emotions, with God, even if it feels messy. It’s okay if all you can do today is exist; that’s still something. And honestly, in more situations than we realize, that’s enough.
Here are a few things that can help in survival mode:
- Short, honest prayers like “Help me” or “Please don’t leave me”. They count, often more than we may think, and they matter.
- Letting someone else’s faith carry you when yours feels nonexistent. Listening to a trusted voice, a talk, or even a simple hymn can reconnect you to hope.
- Naming what you are feeling (the emotion) without trying to fix it. Sometimes just saying, “I am overwhelmed and this is a lot,” brings a little peace. Being able to sit in that feeling for a time.
If you’re surviving today—hold on. You’re not broken. You’re not failing. You’re still here. And that means there’s still light ahead. Even if you can’t see it yet.
Coping – Treading Water with Tools & Steadiness
Coping is a strange middle space, you are finally out of survival mode and are functioning, sort of. You’re showing up to church (sometimes), you’re going to work, you’re interacting with others, you’re getting through your day without falling apart. However, beneath that façade, you’re likely fatigued, riddled with doubt, and clinging to the quiet hope that maybe someday life won’t feel quite so heavy.
Coping is often where people build habits out of necessity. It’s where we find what gets us through, not always what heals us, but what stabilizes us. And that matters; coping is progress.
I entered this space in a deep and unexpected way over the last few years (and still working through today) as my three oldest children, each of whom who I love dearly, made the decision that the Church wasn’t for them. They’re incredible individuals: kind, grounded, value-driven, and thoughtful. But their decisions rocked my spiritual core in a way I never saw coming. As a father, it brought on a wave of questions:
Had I failed them?
Had I missed something?
What did this mean about my own faith?
I was still attending church, still serving, still showing up, but inside I was emotionally and spiritually treading water. I wasn’t thriving. I wasn’t even really living with clarity; I was coping. I was sorting through grief, identity, and hope all at once.
What has helped during this season of life wasn’t a breakthrough moment or some massive spiritual insight. It was small things, a simple verse, a statement in conference, a quiet prayer. Reminding myself daily that His love for me, and my children, was still present. Learning that faith can and often should hold space for sorrow, and furthermore that God wasn’t finished writing any of our stories yet, including mine.
Here are a few things that helped me in that space—and may help you too:
- Keep spiritual habits small and doable. Reading one verse, uttering one prayer, writing one sentence in a journal. Allow those moments to work in you and at this stage, let that be enough.
- Notice wins, not just survival. Write down one thing that helped you feel steady today. It could be as simple as getting out of bed, saying a prayer, or calling a friend. That matters.
- Let go of perfect. This is a “good enough” season. You’re not weak, you’re building capacity one quiet day at a time.
The Savior’s invitation in Matthew 11:28–30 isn’t to prove ourselves. It’s to come to Him:
“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest… For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
If you’re in a coping season, that doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re learning what steadiness feels like, and that’s part of your spiritual resilience.
Living – Finding Rhythm Beyond Routine
Living is the stage where things feel good; you’re not drowning anymore. You’re not barely getting through the week, and you typically have a rhythm; work, family, Church, maybe even a sense of peace. For most of us, this is the sweet spot we cried out for and craved during the harder seasons; this is the “normal life” stage.
But here’s the catch: Living isn’t the same as thriving. You can be doing everything right and still feel spiritually flat, not broken, not lost, just quiet inside. We likely have all been in this stage, some of us may be in it right now and not even realize it. This is the stage where we feel good, we just start to wonder, “Is there more?”
I, like many of you, have spent long stretches in this phase. Life was good, not perfect, but stable. I wasn’t in a crisis, I wasn’t lost, I wasn’t stuck, but I also wasn’t growing. I was comfortable. My spiritual habits were more routine than revelatory; I was living but not leaning forward.
Thanks to a talk about the war chapters from John Bytheway I gained a deep love for the examples we find in the moments of war found throughout the Book of Mormon. There is a powerful example found in Alma 60–61. Captain Moroni is in full-blown “do something” mode, and he writes a blistering letter to Pahoran, accusing him of not doing enough while war rages. But when Pahoran responds in Alma 61, it’s surprisingly calm. He’s not coasting along doing nothing. He’s been dealing with his own battles and quietly leading through hardship. His words show a man who’s not loud, but grounded:
“I do not joy in your afflictions, yea, it grieves my soul. … But behold, there are those who do joy in your afflictions… and they are trying to overthrow me also.”
He wasn’t complacent, he was steady. But even he needed that nudge to act and engage again in the bigger mission. That’s often what this living phase calls for: not more pressure, but a spiritual nudge. A reminder that living isn’t the destination; it’s a safe place.
Here are a few things I’ve found helpful in this stage:
- Reconnect to identity. You’re a child of God—not a job title, a Church calling, or a checklist.
- Stretch gently. Choose something to grow—a new scripture study pattern, a quiet service goal, a relationship to nurture.
- Pay attention to what sparks joy or curiosity. Those times are usually where the Spirit is already working.
Living is a blessing. It’s proof of what you’ve come through and how far you’ve come. But I’m convinced that our Heavenly Father didn’t design us just to survive or even just to live. He designed us to become something more, to thrive.
Thriving – Becoming the Giver
Thriving isn’t about having it all figured out, it’s not about being busy, being impressive, or being immune to struggle. Thriving is about living with purpose. It’s being so anchored in who you are in Christ that you can now love, give, and grow while staying whole.
The funny thing about thriving is that it often sneaks up on us. One day we realize we’re not just coping or living, we’re building, we’re looking outward again. We’re lifting others, including our family, not because we have to, but because we can.
The Doctrine and Covenants teaches that “Zion is the pure in heart” (D&C 97:21). Zion wasn’t just about a location; it was about people who had become something. Thriving saints have never been the ones without hardship. Rather they are those who, through hardship, became pure in heart and devoted to building God’s kingdom from the inside out.
Thriving isn’t about being perfect—it’s about being refined and rooted, grounded in Christ and secure enough to let His light shine through you for the good of those around you. For me, I have come to know when I am in a season of thriving when I stop asking, “How do I get through this?” and started asking, “What can I do today that matters?” or “Who might need what I’ve learned?” Here are a few indicators that you’re entering a thriving season:
- You’re anchored in who you are—and Whose you are.
- You’re spiritually generous. You give time, love, and energy without always needing recognition.
- You’re not afraid of setbacks. You know how to fall without losing faith.
Thriving is the reward for the work. But it’s not the end—it’s the new beginning. It’s the place where your resilience can become someone else’s hope.
Supporting Others Through the Stages
While this article is written from a personal perspective, these stages—Surviving, Coping, Living, Thriving—can be incredibly helpful tools for leaders, or anyone, who is walking with others through hard seasons.
It is important to first remember that not everyone needs fixing, but everyone needs to feel validated and understood.
Recognizing where someone might be spiritually or emotionally can shift the way we show up as leaders. Someone in survival mode doesn’t need a calling—they need compassion. Someone who’s coping might benefit from small spiritual nudges instead of pressure to “get back to 100%.” Those who are living may be ready for meaningful engagement but still need encouragement to go deeper. And those who are thriving? They’re often your best assets to lean in and help minister to others, they just might not know it yet.
Leaders, if they so desire, can use this framework in one-on-ones, interviews, and lessons.
The caution would be to not use them to label people, rather to listen better. Instead of asking, “Are you reading your scriptures?” they might ask, “What are you doing now that helps you feel grounded?” Instead of saying, “You should pray about this,” they might say, “If it’s okay, can I pray with you?”
Ultimately, this model gives leaders language for empathy and strategy for support. My hope is that it will remind us that everyone, no matter their current stage, has a place.
Resilience doesn’t always look like strength. Sometimes it looks like survival. Sometimes it’s just showing up when your heart isn’t in it. But in every stage, the gospel of Jesus Christ offers more than endurance—it offers transformation.
Wherever you are today—surviving, coping, living, or thriving—you’re not stuck and you’re not broken. You’re becoming the person He already sees in you.
