You are quite alright
“Mommy, when are you going to get that window fixed?” M asked me last evening. I could hear emotion in her voice and it wasn’t irritation about being inconvenienced by a broken window.
“I’m not sure, honey. Why is it so important to you?”
“Everyone who comes asks how it broke.”
I was drawing a blank. I couldn’t remember what happened. It is a double paned window, so the sense of urgency to get it fixed was minimized. Until recently, a piece of furniture partially covered it and it was an "Out of sight, out of mind" type thing for me.
“How did it break? I don’t remember.”
“I leaned against it.” It felt like a weight landed on my chest. I could hear the shame and embarrassment in her voice. Poor girl, every time she looks at that broken window, she is reminded that she broke it.
“Oh my, sweetie. I am so sorry. I didn’t realize that you felt that way. I couldn’t even remember how it got broken. It was an accident and I’m not angry at your for breaking it. But I think I know what you might be feeling. I remember feeling bad for breaking something when I was younger.”
I flashed back to a time, 30 some years ago, when I was her age.
“Darrel, Wendy and I were swinging on the porch swing at Darrel’s house. We were going pretty high. It was great until all of a sudden, the chain on the right side where I was sitting, broke and we landed on the ground, piled on top of each other. We didn’t get hurt on the outside but on the inside I did. I was so embarrassed and ashamed. I thought the chain broke because I was too fat. Ashamed and terrified that I would get yelled at, I ran up the hill to my grandma’s house and hid.
I believed it was my fault that the chain broke. It wasn’t. No one was angry at me and the porch swing got fixed. It’s still there today."
I lived with the insecurity of being too much for a long time. Too heavy. Too fat. Too sensitive. Too loud. Too much.
Today, I hear my Heavenly Father whisper:
I am quite alright.
“I’m not sure, honey. Why is it so important to you?”
“Everyone who comes asks how it broke.”
I was drawing a blank. I couldn’t remember what happened. It is a double paned window, so the sense of urgency to get it fixed was minimized. Until recently, a piece of furniture partially covered it and it was an "Out of sight, out of mind" type thing for me.
“How did it break? I don’t remember.”
“I leaned against it.” It felt like a weight landed on my chest. I could hear the shame and embarrassment in her voice. Poor girl, every time she looks at that broken window, she is reminded that she broke it.
“Oh my, sweetie. I am so sorry. I didn’t realize that you felt that way. I couldn’t even remember how it got broken. It was an accident and I’m not angry at your for breaking it. But I think I know what you might be feeling. I remember feeling bad for breaking something when I was younger.”
I flashed back to a time, 30 some years ago, when I was her age.
“Darrel, Wendy and I were swinging on the porch swing at Darrel’s house. We were going pretty high. It was great until all of a sudden, the chain on the right side where I was sitting, broke and we landed on the ground, piled on top of each other. We didn’t get hurt on the outside but on the inside I did. I was so embarrassed and ashamed. I thought the chain broke because I was too fat. Ashamed and terrified that I would get yelled at, I ran up the hill to my grandma’s house and hid.
I believed it was my fault that the chain broke. It wasn’t. No one was angry at me and the porch swing got fixed. It’s still there today."
I lived with the insecurity of being too much for a long time. Too heavy. Too fat. Too sensitive. Too loud. Too much.
Today, I hear my Heavenly Father whisper:
“I created you in your mother’s womb. I knit you together. You are fearfully and wonderfully made. You are mine. You are my daughter. You are exactly how I wanted you to be. You are quite alright.”My mind stops racing and my heart quiets.
I am quite alright.
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