The other day I read a post from singer/songwriter JJ Heller that resonated with me. It was fairly short, but its point definitely hit home. Her first words spoke to the sense of fear and anxiety life too often stirs in us: “There are and always will be things and people in the world we cannot control. There will always be a threat of something being taken away from us. I hate it, but it’s true.” But it was what she said a few lines later that reminded me of my girls and the life we share.
She asked, “What small beautiful thing can I create today?” before closing out with the idea that while we cannot set all the wrongs right or fix the world, we can bring “slivers of hope, truth and peace into our homes and families.” I don’t know about you, but I love that imagery of slivers of hope and truth and peace. And for me, that extended to the idea of slivers of light, those slivers of light in the darkness that allow us to navigate around the things we cannot see clearly in the dark.
Consider those times when you experience a power outage, when there is that eerie silence that settles into the spaces around you and the deep darkness that fills every nook and cranny, outside as well as inside. Around you there is nothing but the blackness and it truly is disconcerting because it is so complete. In those moments, there is nothing more comforting than a light that cuts through the dark, whether from a candle, a flashlight, or even a phone screen.
Light, even slivers of light, makes all the difference when things are at their darkest. And that is one of the characteristics of my teenagers that I adore and appreciate—they are those slivers of light in my life. Whether it’s because they offer their help or because they offer a hug, they have an innate sense of wanting to help, to fix with their best albeit small effort, what they sense is wrong in the moment. Their compassion and empathy stretch into the places of hurt or worry and bring slivers of hope and love. In the darkness, they provide slivers of light.
I like to think that perhaps they have learned at least a small part of this willingness to help and support others from me. I like to think they understand the effects beauty and hope and light have in the world. Whether that is true or not does not truly matter. What matters is I have the opportunity to witness their efforts and their willingness, to watch their empathy and compassion in the form and shape of joy and art and words set beauty into motion in the world around us. When the world, when life, feels heavier than I want it to, I am buoyed by their very existence in my world; they are like the sun, the moon, the stars, that shine light in varying degrees in their wake.
I doubt they ask themselves the question JJ Heller posed in her short post: “What small beautiful thing can I create today?” But I know without a doubt they provide “slivers of hope, truth and peace” in our home and our family. And more often than not, their actions remind me every day to do likewise. They inspire me to create, to make things and to share them, and to release goodness and hope and joy into the lives of those who cross my path. Honestly, I can think of no better way to celebrate these two beautiful young women than to do these small acts of making every day. To be a sliver of light and hope each day, just like them.