A Life That’s Good

(Inspired by the song “A Life That’s Good,” written by Ashley Monroe and Sarah Siskind, and featured on the show Nashville.)

“Sittin’ here tonight, by the firelight,
It reminds me I already have more than I should.”

The song, ‘A Life That’s Good’, is a gentle reminder of something we often forget in the noise of the world — that most of us aren’t striving for dominance or power. We’re simply yearning for enough.

Enough love. Enough safety. Enough peace. A roof over our heads, food on our tables, family, and rest for our souls.

That longing, for a life that’s good, is what unites us far more than anything that divides us.

So to understand where we are today, we can look at where we’ve been.

Who are the voices that profit from hate?
Who benefits from our separation?
Surely not We, the people.

The most recent remnants of division in this country are not ancient. It hasn’t even been one hundred years since the end of segregation. And no, this reflection is not meant to stir hatred or deepen separation, but to remind us of the undercurrents that still shape our culture, currents that some would prefer we imagine no longer exist. Yet it is far more difficult to heal what we refuse to acknowledge.

We still carry the echoes of those wounds—patterns of fear, superiority, and scarcity—passed down through generations of conditioning and unhealed pain. These old ideas continue to pit one ordinary person against another, when in truth, we have far greater challenges to face together.

My struggle is not with my neighbor, who, like me, is simply trying to make a life in this world. Who, like me, watches their rights and opportunities shrink while the wealthiest few grow richer.

How have we been convinced that our greatest threat is the person who has a little less—or perhaps a bit more—than we do?

Meanwhile, those at the top continue to prosper while we fight and tear each other apart over differences that, in the end, only serve to keep us divided. And again, no, this is not a rant to encourage hating the rich.

When we begin to see clearly, we notice that in the human world of ego, fighting one race or group of people, most of whom hold little to no real power or wealth, feels like a carefully calculated distraction.

In this country, just 10% of the population holds over 67% of the wealth.

Take a moment and sit with the implications of that.

This feels like a time of revelation. A moment where we get to see who is truly for the people. Many (on all sides) have worn sheep’s clothing, speaking of justice and unity, yet feeding the very systems that divide us.

The real question now is: who is willing to release comfort and truly stand in the pledge they made to serve the people?

And can we, the people, stand together in solidarity, remembering that most of us simply want a peaceful life for ourselves and our families?

We all desire the same basic things: safety, love, dignity, and the chance to thrive.

Our political, spiritual, and social beliefs are just the pathways we’ve believed would lead us there.

At our core, we are not different. We only hold different ideas about what will set us free.

In the end, those who have crossed land and sea to come to this country, in any generation, desired a better life. A life of safety and promise, where they could live, worship, and raise families in peace.

This country was born from pain and bloodshed, yet also from a longing for freedom — and from the stubborn dream that people from all walks of life could come together and form One Nation.

But as the scriptures remind us, “A house divided against itself cannot stand.”

If we are to rise, we must remember who we truly are.

One people, capable of far more united than we will ever be divided.

When we strip away the noise, the politics, and the propaganda, that’s what remains:

A shared longing for a life that’s good.

And perhaps, remembering that simple truth is where our healing as a nation begins.