You are good

Somewhere along the path from creation to today, probably around the time of an apple falling from a  tree, we the human race started to believe that we are inherently bad. That our bodies are bad. That our minds our bad. That our instincts and gut reactions are . . .bad. We came to a conclusion that to be more, we must always become less. And this plays itself out over and over again in our lives, think diet culture, miss-quoted scripture, the education system, or the correction system for that matter, the cyclical thoughts of your own mind. Do more - Be less. 

But here is the thing. We are good. I don't know what your belief system is, whether you believe in divine purpose or not. Whether you believe that God spoke and life happened or wether you believe that it happened like a spark of life formed out of an explosive unearthing. I do believe He spoke, and this is important I share because this next part I believe even more. I believe He said it was good. He said we are good. He said I am good. He said you are good. And nothing that happened after that, no misconstrued views of His nature or our own negates that first truth. We are good. You are good. Your body is good. Your mind is good. Your very nature is good. The divine spark formed out of creation, that spark, that was you, good. 

And somewhere along the way we lost that. Not our goodness but the knowledge of its truth. 

As simply as grabbing at the heels of knowledge we came to conclusions of far less. Forged within us were lies and doubts and conclusions of less than. 

Let's talk about the human body. It is fascinating what we are capable of. We grow. We evolve. We expand and shrink again, quite literally. We bend and do not break. We break and heal again. We break and do not heal and yet still we persevere. We are complex in all our forms. We are parts and wholes - we are body, spirit, mind and soul. When we are capable of such goodness, what are we to do when we are told a different story? What about those of us with auto-immune diseases who are told that our bodies literally attack ourselves. What about those of us destined to diabetes or heart disease or generational belongings of less than. What about those of us who have lost babies, or know too intimately chemical and hormonal imbalances. What about those of use who have been found broken in body or mind or spirit somewhere along the way. Are we good? Are those parts of us that hurt or attack or are simply less than good? 

When I was pregnant, I remember thinking how fascinating it was that my body was created to form and nurture another. That I could grow another human and be her greatest source of life, of love, of belonging. But how did I reconcile with this when I was told I might have gestational diabetes? That with every blood sugar spike I increased my own daughters chances of fighting the same uphill battle? Or how about when I had gestational hypertension and as I hovered over pre-eclampsia and failed to bring her into the world exactly the way I planned to? The way I thought was in my very good nature to. Whether by odd shaped uterus (actual term) or bad blood pressure, my body didn't tell me I was a nurturer. Didn't tell me I was good. Didn't tell me I was the mother I was supposed to be. The words failed induction still ring in my ears from Eleonore's entrance into the world. Her very entrance a result of my failure? How is that good? 

But she is... she is good. And even when my body did the very opposite of what I believed it capable of - I too was good. My body was and is good, my flesh not the enemy we have become convicted of. 

I thought in motherhood a part of me long hidden would be unearthed. That an instinct would rise up in me and it would be beautiful and have an ease of nature, if not easy in its practice. But the reality was darker than I could have ever imagined. My deepest fears became unearthed instead, my insecurities held under a microscope of reality, and my instincts tested by doubts and hormones. In the aftermath of birth (a season not talked about nearly enough) I found a grit not birthed out of nature but out of coming to the end of myself. 

The moment I found my stride as a mother (and don't worry I have lost it plenty of times since then so to all you struggling mamas and guardians and carers of other humans who falter and fumble and struggle, I see you) wasn't pretty or perfect. It was messy and complicated. But beautiful nonetheless. In the throes of sleep deprivation and the newness of having no idea what I was doing (still an evolving state, its just not new anymore) with a screaming newborn who I wanted nothing more than to set down and at best watch sleep in peace and at worst simply walk away from. With as many tears pouring down my face is milk pouring down my skin in response to her screams, I paced my home begging her to respond to my love and care with silence and peace. I had this moment where I realized she didn't care that I felt incapable, she didn't care about my own fears or insecurities, she didn't care whether I believed I was good or not. And I found a resolve to not set aside myself but my baggage instead. She wasn't the weight I bore around the room, it was. And so I set it down and held her closer instead. And in the depth of that darkness where my lies fell to the ground, I sang over her these words . . . 

When the rain is blowing in your face
And the whole world is on your case
I could offer you a warm embrace
To make you feel my love

When the evening shadows and the stars appear
And there is no one there to dry your tears
I could hold you for a million years
To make you feel my love

I know you haven't made your mind up yet
But I will never do you wrong
I've known it from the moment that we met
No doubt in my mind where you belong

I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue
I'd go crawling down the avenue
No, there's nothing that I wouldn't do
To make you feel my love

The storms are raging on the rolling sea
And on the highway of regret
The winds of change are blowing wild and free
You ain't seen nothing like me yet

I could make you happy, make your dreams come true
Nothing that I wouldn't do
Go to the ends of the Earth for you
To make you feel my love
To make you feel my love

And it wasn't her silence I was seeking anymore. Just the hope that she would always know the truth I had just learned. That just as she was, I was created good. And no lies no matter how old, no matter how believed by myself or generations past can diminish the truth of our inception. Good. I will spend my whole life telling my daughter that she is good and that she is loved. And whether I have to set aside myself or lay down my lies to convince her to do the same - I will lean into this good truth. 

So no matter what lies you have been told. By your body, mind or culture. Here is a truth I hope you hear resoundingly. You are good. Let go of everything else, it will cost you nothing that was ever meant to be yours anyway.