Can't Fix This

By Brenda Black

Confession: I'm a fixer. Couple that with my strong will to not wait for someone to come to the rescue, and it warps into a MacGyver complex. You see, I am fairly convinced that nearly anything can be repaired by using assorted items from the junk drawer. Take a look. There's gum for adhesive, a paperclip that doubles as a skrewdriver or key ring. Most recently, I stopped a leaking toilet handle with a handy bread wrapper twist tie. A good supply of duct tape, super glue, baling twine and ingenuity has been known to save thousands of dollars and extend the life of countless gadgets, from household appliances to farm implements. Tada! Consider it fixed.

The frugal stubbornness that has found me digging through old rusty buckets for just the right little doodad can be a blessing. It not only saves money, but instills independence. It rekindles creativity. Thinking outside the box in an effort to make do or rectify a problem comes with satisfaction. So much so, that when I come to a situation without remedy from my make-shift arsenal of stuff at-the-ready, I fail miserably accepting the fact that I can't fix this.

 The let down over breakdowns is only intensified when the broken thing is not a thing, but a human being – one I love. That drives me the craziest; I'm still confessing. When I can't patch them with gorilla glue, and there isn't a bandage big enough to cover the disease, it grieves me. When I can't tie up their heartache with left over streamers from a helium balloon, I feel deflated. And that's right where the good Lord would have me to be – totally dependent on His touch and mercy.

The fact that I can't fix it keeps me on my knees. Down there, I don't pilfer through junk to discover a makeshift solution to life's problems. Down there, I can't take credit for my clever concoctions. Down there, it's humbling and has me waiting for someone to come to the rescue. On my knees makes me dependent on the One who can fix it!

Confession: I am tempted to give God a helping hand by making creative suggestions about just how He should whip something up and rectify the problem. Realistically, I know that my remedies come from the junk drawer, while His are perfect.

So, here I remain, able to tinker and strategize quick fixes for minute problems, but incapable of fixing the big issues for my loved ones. And right here is where I need to be – praying. For, when it is all said and done, the prayer of a righteous one fixes much.