By Melissa Burnett 
You didn’t win today, and I saw the hurt on your face. I saw your disappointment after the final play of the game. I saw you hold back tears and then eventually release them, trying not to let others see but eventually succumbing to your feelings.
You didn’t win today, and it was quiet in the car on the ride home. You didn’t want to talk about it. You just wanted to look out the window and take some time.
You didn’t want a lecture on how things will be better tomorrow. You didn’t want a reminder that you are worth more than these games. You didn’t want to be told that everyone loses, and it will be okay. Instead, you just wanted to feel safe and loved.
So we made some popcorn, and we snuggled on the couch. And we watched a movie, and then you put on your favorite pajamas. We read books, and we laughed and right before you fell asleep, I whispered I love you.
Maybe you will want to talk about it and maybe you won’t. I can’t make the pain go away in life. I can walk beside you, but you will need to navigate through the storm.
But I can give you the space to feel safe after a loss or a bad day or when things fall apart. I will be here to talk or snuggle or watch a movie. Or just drive in silence.
You didn’t win today. But through the losses and the bad days and the times you fall down, I hope you know that right before you fall asleep—no matter what happened today—you are safe; you are loved; God loves you. And you are worth much more than any wins or losses.
by Nicole Greenplate 
by Kyle Means 
by Jennifer Thompson 
