“It’s healthy to admit you’re not ok.
‘It’s ok not to be ok’ – it’s brave. But don’t let it win.
Be sad. Have your moment, your day, or week.
Then do something about it and be happy. For yourself.”
— Jessie J

One of the most loving gifts we can offer our dear ones is the space to grieve, to feel sorrow deeply without being rushed. Their sadness is not a flaw — it is a sacred part of their emotional and spiritual unfolding. Growth often whispers through the language of pain and loss.

Be there — not to fix, not to advise, but to simply be. Offer your presence, quiet and kind. Lend your ears, not to reply, but to truly listen if they wish to speak.

Believe this: when we give our support with patience instead of pressure, with warmth instead of worry, we create a sanctuary where healing begins. This is love in its most tender form.

And remember, the same gentleness you offer them — offer it to yourself too. You deserve it just as much as anyone else you hold dear.

Dear Loving God,
Source of all compassion and peace,

Today, I pray for the strength to hold space —
for those I love, and for myself.
When sadness visits, let me not rush to fix or judge,
but instead, offer the quiet gift of presence.

Teach me to honor sorrow as a sacred part of the journey,
to see pain not as weakness,
but as a sign of a heart still open, still feeling, still growing.

May I be a safe place for others to rest —
with patient hands, listening ears, and a tender spirit.
And when it is my turn to weep,
may I offer myself the same kindness I would give to a dear friend.

Help me trust that joy can return,
not by force, but through gentle steps,
through love given freely, without pressure or condition.

Let me be love.
Let me be stillness.
Let me be a light in the soft darkness of healing.

Amen.

With love and prayers,

Little-pencil