Let’s face it. Life is hard and we all have bad days. Days where nothing seems to go the way we planned or the way we want. Days where we feel more emotional, even weepy or maybe angry, than other days. Days where we’d like to treat ourselves to the day in bed or on the couch, a movie marathon playing on the television or a good book in our hands, free to doze off if we so choose and tackle life tomorrow. I have a few songs that I store up in my queue for days like that—some that allow me to wallow a bit, some that invite me to scream-sing a bit and release some pent-up emotions, and some that speak truth to my soul and comfort my heart. One of those songs, Faith to Be Strong, includes the lyrics:
Give us faith to be strong
Give us strength to be faithful
This life is not long, but it’s hard…
There are indeed days wherein that line, this life is not long, but it’s hard, hits hard. Because I am familiar with these kinds of days, I am able to see my girls pretty clearly when they, too, experience days where the darkness feels a little heavier and the emotional spirals shake their confidence.
For me, these are the days for which unconditional love is made. These are the days we all need an extra heaping, extra strong, dose of no-matter-what kind of love. Love for the bad days. I am grateful for the relationship I share with each of my girls that allows me to create a safe space for them. A relationship in which they are comfortable enough to step inside that safe space and release whatever steam is building within them or whatever tears they need to shed.
I am still not great at simply listening, but I’d like to believe I am getting a little better. I catch myself more quickly responding before their words are even finished. I catch myself wanting to override their pain with my encouragement. But, mostly, I feel myself leaning in, leaning toward them and holding them and their words gently, feeling their pain deeply because I recognize it. It’s familiar to me and I want to comfort quickly because of that. I hear the words from that song, Faith to Be Strong, and I want to assure them everything will be alright even though I know they need to experience their emotions and process their thoughts.
As I work to remain on standby rather than in fixing mode, I breathe, I watch their faces, their eyes, I try and quiet my mind, to settle the thoughts clamoring to be heard, telling them that so many of their thoughts are not true, willing them to hear the truth about the masterpieces they are. They are not less than. They are not who that anxiety tells them they are. They are not better or worse than the people they’re comparing themselves to in their minds. They simply are who they are, and that is something truly amazing. Truly, they are remarkable, even when they don’t or can’t feel it. Even when they don’t or can’t believe it.
Love is for those kinds of days even more than the others.
It’s the no-matter-what love for their doubts. It’s the no-matter-what love for their tears. It’s the no-matter-what love for their fear. It’s the no-matter-what love that speaks the truth their thoughts can’t recall in those moments. It’s the love that’s steeped in the wonder of watching them as they grow and change, seeing the ways they are stronger, more resilient, more capable. It’s the love that’s steeped in having the gift of seeing just how far along this journey they have come and recognizing the strengths shrouded in their bad day and emotional storms.
I love that I get to be the one who reminds them of what’s real and what’s true. I love that they know I want to listen (even when I don’t always do that well). I love that I get a front row seat to see the ways they continue to grow into the two incredible young women they are created and designed to be. I see hints of that sometimes. I see obvious markers of that other times. Even so, we all get to have hard days, and, when they do, I get to be their love for the bad days.