Who Told You?

A few weeks ago I heard Father God whisper to my heart: “Who told you you were broken?”

It had the same ring to it as it likely did with Adam and Eve back in the Garden of Eden: “Who told you you were naked?”

I had a think through all the people who had accused me or implied that I was broken in different ways over the years and the words that had formed their declarations about me: “You will make a horrible mother”; “You don’t make any sense”; “You’ll never be pretty enough/intelligent enough (etc) to have friends/be married/__”; “You’re too broken”; “You’re too quiet”; “You’re too confusing”; “You can never navigate the world”; “No one wants you”; “You’re a [insert expletives here]”; “You’re a mistake”; on and on the comments resounded as I saw one face after the other appear before me.

“All these people told me I was broken in so many different ways,” I said to Father God.

“Look again,” He said.

I looked, and behind the crowd of people and their voices, back a little distance on his own, stood Satan: the accuser.

“The people were merely repeating what they heard the accuser saying about me?” I said.

“There is nothing new under the sun,” said Father God. “Broken accusation comes from the same, single voice standing in the same fallen place. Don’t get mad with people; they don’t know whose voice it is that they’re amplifying. Love people and remind the enemy that his voice no longer has any power over you. I have NEVER—not once—told you you were broken. I made you in my image. My life and my light indwell you. The perfect lifeblood of my son flows into you. You’re my child—you’ve been born again from above. Come away and hear what I say about you instead of listening to broken chatterings.”

I nodded. I could see: “I don’t have to take on board anything the accuser says because he is the father of lies and deceit.”

“Exactly. So I’m going to ask you again: Who told you you were broken?”