I was searching for a happy #tbt picture, but instead you're getting this because I feel led to share and hear your thoughts. May 20, 2012. This was the day my grandpa died. I was sitting in the corner of my closet crying into my knees so my little ones wouldn't hear me and worry. I heard a tap tap on the door, followed by this face peeking around the corner. Armed with noise-canceling headphones positioned just perfectly to accentuate the cheek chunk, my non-verbal babe's blue eyes stared in wonder. She was so concerned. I giggled, wiped my tears and put on a smile. This is how I lived life - until just a few days ago, I would hide my tears from my girls because I worried it would show them sadness, which equaled doubt, which equaled absence of faith. In my head, always happy = rock solid faith. This week, my pastor opened my eyes. I've been so wrong. By seemingly protecting them, I'm actually hurting them. I'm not teaching my girls how to process true feelings. He's helping me to realize that it's ok to be sad - in fact it's healthy for our children to see us sad - as long as we overcome that sadness with hope. THAT is faith. I'm working on this now, hoping to have caught it early enough in my girls' lives, to provide a healthy balance of transparency in feelings. I would love any input, experiences and lessons learned about processing grief with children watching if you feel led to share. We're all in this together, mamas  Allow yourself to feel (Romans 8:23) Have compassion for yourself (Matthew 9:36) Experience hope and joy (Romans 5:1-5) XOXO, Hilary