I’m sorry for the times you weren’t fully loved and accepted for the utter beauty that is your life. I’m sorry for the times that the “love” extended to you had an “if” attached to it. The times that a plan for fixing you was cloaked in an artificial love like saccharine.
I’m sorry that the theology contained inside of concrete walls hurt you and that the message of love in that theology wasn’t expansive enough to send a wrecking ball to destroy those walls.
I’m sorry that love didn’t shine far more brightly than judgement. I’m sorry that layers of tradition and expectation didn’t crack away and make room for you.
I am standing here now in my skin and bones, my fleshly home, uncovered in the open air. No walls, no layers, and I hope that all you see is the light of pure love and acceptance.
And I accept the pure beauty of you; the fearfully and wonderfully made, image bearer that you are. I see you in your humanity and your divinity, and it is good. And the the cry of my heart, from the center of my core, with every inhale and exhale is, “You are loved, you are whole, be healed, be free.”
And if you cannot hear it, cannot feel it, cannot absorb it yet, I will sit holding space for you until you do.
And my heart beat will continue to say, You are loved.
Because you are worth it.