Beyond Good and Bad. (3 min 32 sec)

We hear it all the time: God is good. It rolls off the tongue like a mantra, repeated in moments of gratitude, triumph, or fleeting joy. But what happens when life takes a turn? When the job falls through, when the diagnosis comes in, when the relationship crumbles? Suddenly, the mantra shifts: Why would a good God let this happen? And just like that, the same God who was good yesterday is now seen as indifferent, cruel, or unjust.

This isn’t about questioning God. It’s about questioning us. The problem isn’t with God — it’s with the labels we attach to God in our desperate attempt to make sense of a world rooted in duality.

When we call God “good,” we don’t realize we’ve trapped Him in a box. Goodness doesn’t exist without its counterpart: badness. One cannot be defined without the other. And yet, we apply these human constructs to something infinite, something eternal, something beyond the very duality we live in.

God isn’t good, and God isn’t bad. God simply is. God is not about duality. Duality is the framework of the ego — a way of slicing the world into categories of right and wrong, light and dark, reward and punishment. But God is oneness. God doesn’t divide or choose sides. The moment we try to force God into the good/bad spectrum, we lose sight of what God actually represents.

Why do we cling so tightly to these mantras, repeating them as if saying them enough times will make them stick? God is good. Everything happens for a reason. These phrases are like scaffolding, holding up a structure we’re secretly terrified will collapse. If we believed them fully, we wouldn’t need to convince ourselves — or anyone else.

The reason we repeat these empty mantras is simple: we don’t actually believe them. If we did, we wouldn’t panic when the world throws us a curveball. We wouldn’t scramble to rationalize why something “bad” happened or try to explain God’s plan as if we’re God’s PR team. The need to label and defend God reveals the cracks in our own faith.

What if we let go of the need to call God good or bad? What if we stopped trying to define God by our limited, dualistic understanding? What if we allowed God to simply be?

Dropping the labels doesn’t mean rejecting God. It means opening yourself to a deeper understanding of the infinite. It means recognizing that the God you’ve been taught to believe in — the one who rewards and punishes, the one who alternates between benevolence and wrath — is not the fullness of what God is. God doesn’t need your labels. God doesn’t need your defense. God doesn’t change because your circumstances change.

When we stop labeling God, we stop fighting with reality. The world isn’t divided into good and bad, right and wrong — it just is. Life unfolds as it will, and we are here to witness it, learn from it, and grow through it.

By clinging to these mantras, we only create resistance. We resist the bad because we think it shouldn’t exist. We cling to the good because we’re afraid to lose it. But what if we didn’t resist? What if we didn’t cling? What if we trusted that everything we experience is part of a greater whole we can’t yet see?

Letting go of the labels doesn’t mean you stop seeking meaning — it means you stop seeking it in the wrong places. You stop expecting God to fit into your framework. Instead, you align yourself with the infinite, where good and bad dissolve into the unity of what simply is.

The next time you feel the urge to call God “good,” pause. Not because God isn’t good, but because God is so much more. The next time you hear yourself repeating a mantra, ask yourself: Do I believe this? Or am I saying it to convince myself? The next time life feels hard, resist the urge to label it bad. Ask instead: What am I being shown? What am I being invited to see?

God isn’t good or bad. God doesn’t fit into those boxes. God is. And that’s enough.

If you’re still not sure, here’s one final question to sit with: When you stop defending what you think God is, what do you actually experience?

#thinkgod
I am sorry.
Please forgive me.
Thank you.
I love you.