This is my (wonderfully strong-willed, independent, tenacious) daughter in the middle of a long, ugly, full-blown meltdown.

And that’s her dad. Laying on the floor beside her in the middle of it. With a quiet voice and gentle hands.

That really bothers some of you, I know.

See some of you – some of us – have no idea what that’s like. Whether from a mom or dad. All you know as a response to negative emotions is anger. Shame and ridicule in response to tears. Brushed aside or isolated for unwanted behaviors. A hand across the face if you dared raise your voice. Sharp words cutting through the air at your failures and mistakes.

Some of us don’t really want to think about what would have happened if we, like my daughter, cried and screamed and yelled and even tried to take a swing at someone.

Some of us were quick and learned to walk the desired walk to avoid those things.

Now we carry around anxieties of disappointing our boss or messing up a conversation or inconveniencing someone at the grocery store or not getting everything on our list done. We don’t know how to say “no” because that was a forbidden word.

Or we carry unexplainable anger towards others, or we flinch anytime we hear someone yell, or we end nearly every day feeling like we just didn’t measure up, or we want to talk to our partner but can never seem to find the words. Our emotions are still confusing and overwhelming, so we bury them or take them out on others.

And we wonder why.

You have no idea what it’s like to kick and scream and cry and to have someone lovingly sit with you and hold you and talk you through all the scary emotions. Or even just be there while you work through them yourself.

You have no idea what it’s like to screw up, maybe even screw up in a big way, and have someone still accept you. To hear them say “Let’s try again” or “Let me help you fix that” or “I’m still here.”

You have no idea what unconditional love is really like.

Let me tell you that God is the Father that comes close and holds you. Who sits on the floor with you in the middle of your worst moments. Without pointing at the mess you made and telling you to go clean up before you come back, He walks with you to make the amends. He guides with a still, small voice and a gentle, nail-scarred hand.

Let me talk to 4-year-old you: You are loved and you are safe and your emotions are valid. At your very worst, you are worthy of love. Your behavior does not determine how loved or valued you are. Mistakes are okay and you are not alone.

And I know, I know some of you are stuck up there at the part where my daughter threw a tantrum and didn’t get punished. You’re worried that she’s coddled and spoiled.

She’s not.

She wanted the iPad when we said no. (But if you look deeper, was hungry and exhausted from a full day at school and has an amygdala that’s nowhere near fully developed). She still didn’t get the iPad; our answer stayed the same. She got support and safety and dinner and skills to deal with those emotions next time.

If you’ve never experienced that kind of safety and acceptance from someone, start looking for those people. We’re here.

But more importantly, your Father is there. Your loving, floor-sitting Father.

 

*Disclaimer – We are definitely not always kind and calm in parenting. It’s hard work and takes a lot of re-training ourselves. We lose our cool just like everyone else, but it’s important for our kids to see us own up to our mistakes and ask for forgiveness. Those moments can carry a lot of weight too.