You Are Enough

“I don’t want to change you, anymore.”

My toddler said this to me, after she crapped her pants for the fifth time today, and she didn’t want another diaper change. (We’re working on pronouns.) But it might as well have come from the heavens, because it’s profound.

OK, I get that sin is an issue and I am despicable and Jesus is my only hope. God the Father loves me just as I am, but too much to let me stay that way.

However, I think about sin with the same ease as I do cancer. I either avoid it at all costs, or it becomes the center of my dark thoughts. I’m struggling with grasping the concept, and I hope someday I’ll arrive at the place where my theology and belief in a good God shelter me when I get the Tuesday afternoon call that the tumor is cancerous. The shit hits the fan, but I’m saved. Death is coming, but I’m unafraid.

I’m not there yet. It’s messy and anxiety-inducing. For each step I take forward in understanding the fall of humankind, my other foot takes a step toward grace that is so sweet and life-giving. I wouldn’t mind camping out at grace for awhile.

Let’s get back to my message from heaven, a la my tummy bug toddler. Things start to feel a bit more roomy when I think that I don’t have to change anymore. I can stretch out my arms and breathe a little. What if it were to say to myself, “I don’t want to change you, anymore?”

1. Your body is OK.

Better than OK. Stretch marks? More like battle scars. Gray hairs? Wisdom strands. Punctuation points on your face, like brackets (wrinkles) or periods (acne scars)? Girlfriend, please; tell the world your story. Diastasis recti? OK, maybe work on that to avoid future complications.

But what if we didn’t have to grind away for change, to reverse the clock, to firm and flatten? What if *gasp* we are beautiful as we are, because we have loved and been loved and our time has been well spent? Just sit with that thought, like a mud treatment. You’ll be glad you did.

2. Your parenting is OK.

Sure, you suck at playing with your kids because you always want to play “sleepy time” or “clean up time,” and every child knows that’s a farce. But you are amazing at sneaking veggies into unassuming foods and you tell killer bedtime stories and you truly want your daughters to believe that they are created special and beautiful. There’s value in that. You are a good parent.

Don’t focus on your weaknesses and take away from the strength of your gifts. There is much to celebrate.

3. Your place in the world is OK.

Whether the extent of your interactions are in the checkout line or you manage a team of thousands across continents, you are right where you need to be. A smile, truly seeing the person in front of you, and acting generously is your best step at loving whomever is around you. You are needed.

After a lifetime, or too much life, spent trying to be smart enough, pretty enough, good enough, holy enough … I don’t want to change you, anymore. You are enough.

OK, so literally, my little girl just pooped like crazy again, and again she said, “I don’t want to change you, anymore,” but I know that there’s a diaper full of sludge waiting for me. We still have to deal with the yuck. I looked her square in the eye and alluded to her fecal output. But this time, she turned away and said:

“I want Daddy to change you.”

I’m not sure what to do with that.