I Hold Space

I was driving home from a gathering of powerful, wonderful women, feeling rejuvenated and knowing I was going to spend time with my wonderful family before my mother-in-law had to fly back home the next day. I was happy. My mind was contentedly wandering, and then I saw them. A woman, three young children, a picnic blanket in the shade… of the cemetery. My heart plunged a little. Was that Daddy’s grave? Another plunge. Maybe not, maybe a grandparent? Uncle? Friend?… But does it even really matter who!? Clearly, they were feeling an empty place in their lives and were there to try and fill it, even a little. My heart started to pray for them. For that mama who might be raising her sweet babies without their daddy, or maybe she’s raising them without the influence and support of her own mother. I don’t know, but I hold a sacred space for that little family, whatever place their family dynamic is because of their loss. 

I hold sacred space as I think about all the other single moms out there, some thriving, some drowning, some somewhere in between. I hold space for their lonely nights of exhaustion, and space for sweet victory in their single-handed successes. I hold space for those who long to marry but just haven’t found someone who will be safe to take them to forever. I hold space for those who have lost loved ones to illness, suicide, or accident. I hold space for those who have had to make the agonizing and confusing choice to separate from toxic partners or children in order to end the cycle of abuse of varying kinds. I hold space for the brave who have separated, who then have to turn and hold up their children as they are forced to deal with the aftershocks. I hold sacred space for the refugees whose families are torn between two countries. I hold sacred space for the runaway child who thought that was their only option. I hold space for those who didn’t have the example they needed for how to “do it right” and just continue the only behaviors they know. I hold space for the military families who don’t know if it’s their last goodbye and live wondering. 

I hold sacred space for those who push through the therapy and soul-work of healing from any of these battle grounds. I hold space for those who see light after a long night of suffering, for those who hope for a brighter tomorrow. I hold space for second and third marriages, for trying again to do it right. I hold space for the hard-earned forgiveness, both sought and granted. I hold space for the desire to shed the bitterness, even when it holds on so tightly. I hold space for the long years of waiting, only to wait some more. I hold space for the range of emotions that accompany grief, that jump out of nowhere and grab you by the throat. I hold space for the deep breaths that allow the chokehold to lesson, and tears that release the pressure. I hold sacred space for the healing that only comes with time. I hold space for the glimmers that reflect tiny lights of progress and hope, for the “wins” that no one sees but you. 

I hold sacred space for the fact that the word “family” looks so very different to so many. An ever-changing kaleidoscope. And I hold space that through it all, there is belonging, acceptance, love, empathy… a sacred space. I hold a sacred space. For you. 

Lead Photo credit: William Farlow Leva via Unsplash