TABLE SALT: The blame game
Racing through the living room, my four-year-old, Lola, threw herself into a cartwheel. She let out a scream as she tumbled to the floor. I scooped her up to hug and kiss her injury away. It was near nap time, her exhaustion amplified from the fall; I gave her a dose of pain reliever and an ice pack and tucked her into her bed. She woke up and seemed to have completely forgotten about the cartwheel gone wrong. The evening snuck by without one mention of any further discomfort.
During the night, she woke me up, holding her arm with crocodile tears puddled on her cheeks. I held up my covers and invited her to snuggle beside me. Lola drifted back to sleep. The morning came with continued tears, and Lola held her arm close to her chest. I tied up a makeshift sling with a doll blanket and tucked a baggie of ice inside. This seemed to pacify her, and I told her she was going to be okay. After she did not let the subject fade, I began to think that perhaps she truly had an injury.
We headed to the local children’s hospital and were able to be seen right away. Within thirty minutes, Lola had an x-ray, with the results showing a broken arm. Of course, I felt terrible that I let it go for over twenty-four hours, nursing her along. Despite the pain she was experiencing, Lola left the hospital with a pink cast decorated in silver glitter. She loved it! It truly was pretty, all things considered. In fact, when we got home, her sister spotted the new accessory and wanted one for herself!
After every hospital or doctor's office visit, we all know what comes in the mail: bills. Within a few months or so, everything was settled. At eight weeks, Lola’s cast was removed, and we diligently used a thick lotion to help restore her dry skin back to health. As far as we were concerned, the broken arm was behind us. When we were at the hospital, I filled out paperwork. I recall checking a box that the accident happened at home. So, when I received a paper six months later from our insurance company, I was a bit surprised. Even though the claim was filed, the balance paid, and the file closed, our insurance company wanted to offer us a chance to “blame” someone else for Lola’s cartwheel accident.
We knew the injury was a result of our daughter’s actions. Even though it happened in our home, if it had happened elsewhere, it was our blame to claim. We trashed the paper to fill out if we wanted to change our minds about where the injury occurred. Over one year later, we received another offer to change our story about where the broken bone occurred. I could not believe it! If the insurance company continued to offer us the chance to change the story, which we put down on paper the first time we entered the hospital, then they must be offering this to all their clients.
The world promotes blaming others and looking away from ourselves. It is hard to look at ourselves and take the blame for certain situations and circumstances in which we find ourselves. If we take the blame when we do fail, mess up, or break our arm, it can be costly. Not only can it cost us money from our checkbook, but it can also force us to humble ourselves, admit we were wrong, or see that we are not as perfect as we thought.
It might feel easy when you see a way out of taking the blame, but it is not right. If you find yourself in a place where you took off running to do a cartwheel and landed with a broken arm, you may need to accept it was your choice or apologize to someone. If you mess up, and we all do, humble yourself and take the blame. Speaking the truth and offering grace when someone does hurt you will help your relationships, and your own soul, grow stronger and healthier. Openness and taking the blame will always be more rewarding than pushing the bill onto someone else.
“The one whose walk in blameless, who does what is righteous, who speaks the truth from their heart; whose tongue utters no slander, who does no wrong to a neighbor, and casts no slur on others.” Psalm 15: 2-3
Contact Ashley at ashley@tippgazette.com
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Tippecanoe Gazette
Attn: Ashley Spring McCarroll
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Tipp City, Ohio 45371