When the hurt is a 10

The other day, my daughters were fighting over something that, from the outside, seemed pretty ridiculous. Nora was upset because Susie had pushed her on the trampoline. The push was minor, but the tears were not. 

Nora was crying hysterically but seemed physically unharmed. I asked her “On a scale of 1–10, how much did the push hurt you?”

She wiped her eyes and nose and said, “One.”  Then I asked, “On a scale of 1–10, how much did it hurt your feelings?”

Without hesitation,  she very dramatically raised all fingers up and said “Ten!"

It struck me how often that’s true for all of us. Most of the time, what hurts isn’t the shove, the sharp word, the inconvenience. It’s the feeling behind it. Feeling unseen, left out, dismissed, unloved.

As a mom, it reminded me to slow down and listen beyond the surface. A scraped knee might heal quickly, but a wounded heart takes gentleness and care. 

And if I’m honest, I’m not so different from Nora. The “small things” in life often weigh heavy on me too, not because of the size of the moment, but because of what it means to my heart.

Maybe that’s where grace meets us. In the tender places where the hurt feels like a 10, even if it looks like a 1.