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By Sean Dietrich
Guest Columnist

You’re going to be OK. That’s not an opinion. It’s not a guess. This isn’t some trite little catchphrase from some crappy motivational book that reads like it was written by a greasy televangelist.

You’re going to be OK. It’s the plain truth. You really are going to make it through this junk you’re going through.

So relax. You don’t have to do anything to make everything OK. You don’t have to close your eyes extra tight, grit your teeth, use magic words, or clap for Tinkerbell.

Yes, things are bad. But you have a little, infinitesimal voice speaking to you right now. And this voice is reading these very words alongside you and saying to you, “This guy’s got a point.”

This is not your voice. It’s a voice that comes from somewhere else. The problem is, you can’t always hear this faint voice talking. Namely, because you’re too busy freaking out.

“You’ll be OK,” the gentle voice will say again. “It’s all going to be OK. You’ll see.”

But you are afraid to trust this voice.

Also, the voice says other things like: “You’re not fat. You’re not stupid. You’re a smart person. You’re good enough. You’re very fortunate. You’re a miracle. Everyone really likes you, with the possible exception of your mother-in-law.”

So I know you’re sitting there, wondering why you’re still reading this drivel, when I obviously know nothing about you.

But you’re also thinking about how you’ve had a hard last few weeks. Last few months. Last few years. Last few decades.

You’re thinking about how often you pray for relief but it never comes. You’re thinking about how you have tried to put one foot in front of the other, but now it’s getting harder to move your legs. You want to give up.

Meantime, the little voice is practically screaming. The voice says: “Don’t quit! You’re almost there!”

Someday—I know you can’t envision this—your problems will all be over. Every last one. The sun will shine. Birds will sing. The sky will be perpetually blue.

Your body will no longer hurt. Your heart will feel light. Your mind will find peace.

On that day, you will reflect upon this godawful time, I believe, with bittersweet fondness. Because this hell-on-earth period will be what shapes you. And you’ll be thinking to yourself: “Wow, everything really DID turn out OK.”

I don’t know how your life will play out. I don’t know how it will end. But I know that I, too, have had some bad seasons. I have seen some terrible stuff in my life. I’m not all that different from you.

I remember certain people used to tell me precisely what I’m telling you. “Everything will be OK,” they’d all say.

And it would take everything I had not to respond by making a flatulating sound with my mouth.

How could they know ANYTHING would be OK? What gave them the right to tell me this? They didn’t know me. They were just peddling cheap, uplifting clichés from New York Times bestselling self-help books whose only practical purposes were leveling wobbly tables.

Even so. These people turned out to be right. Everything DID work out. It always does. It always will.

Just listen to the voice, which is softly reminding you that, if you can just hold on, this paragraph is almost over.

If you can just get through today, if you can just keep going, all heaven is about to break loose.

Sean Dietrich is a columnist, novelist, and stand-up storyteller known for his commentary on life in the American South. His work has appeared in Newsweek, Southern Living, Reader’s Digest, Garden and Gun, The Selma Times-Journal, The Tallahassee Democrat, the Birmingham News, The Mobile Press-Register.