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 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.