I celebrate the work many will never see

Labor Day, in its simplest understanding, is a day to honor American workers. The collective group who are contributing or have contributed to our nation's strength and prosperity.

Labor Day celebrates the work we can see.

Overlooked in that celebration, however, is the work many are doing that very few ever see. The work of healing. The work that many do before they ever get to their day jobs; the work that is always going on in the background once they get there.

When I work with groups on this idea of healing, I am always awed by the stories people have overcome to get to a place of wanting to learn how to better help heal others. It has often been quiet work. Behind the scenes. Work very few others know the depths of.

It has helped me come to know that so often the work we see and celebrate pales in comparison to the unseen work so many are doing. This Labor Day I want to tell you that I see it.

I see the days it's hard to get out of bed and yet you do.

I see the days when you smile to make others feel better while they mistakenly assume that smile comes easy to you.

I see you working through emotions that sneak up on you from places you can't see or remember. Emotions that leave you feeling like you must be broken. And yet you march on, broken.

I see you telling the voice inside you calling you worthless that it has no idea just how full of worth you are. That's not easy, because the voice inside you doesn't just go away after one conversation. It continually challenges your belief in that worth.

I see you fighting to please everyone because that's the fight that has always made you feel safest and most accepted. I see you coming to understand you'll never feel safe and accepted until you first please yourself.

I see you coming to own your broken heart instead of hiding it. I see you doing the same with your loneliness.

I see a world that is so good at honoring the work and successes and achievements that play out in broad daylight, while failing to see and lift up the work of healing so many are doing in the dark. The work that doesn't get handed trophies but is instead labeled as baggage.

I just want you to know this Labor Day that I know your baggage. I have carried it; I continue to. I know how heavy it is, and in my world, you are more deserving of a trophy than most anyone I know.

In my world, this Labor Day is for you.

I see you and I honor you.

And I encourage you, keep laboring, whether anyone sees it or not. Keep walking into rooms owning and sharing your stories, because those stories are changing lives.

Those stories are healing.

I know that firsthand. I know it because of all the labor you've done that has poured into mine.

Thank you.