“How are you today?” I shook my head in reply and said, “It came later today. I’m still recovering.” I’d spent the last ten minutes sitting in the parking lot outside building eleven, breathing through my daily mid-afternoon anxiety attack. “I am…” I whispered as I breathed as much air into my lungs as possible. “A beloved child of God,” I exhaled fully. “I am…. A beloved child of God,” I repeated with each deep breath in and out as my heart rate eased.