The Master Fixer


“Come this way, I’ve got the best cure.”
“Over here!” Another one waves.
“Those are all wrong, you’ll make it all worse.
Come buy my thing that actually saves.”

“Drink it right down, it’ll make you feel great.
I’ve got the right cup of mixes!”
I stand in the middle of clamor and conflict,
Surrounded by dazzling sellers of fixes.

I’m broken and lost and in need of some help,
So I fill up my stomach with healthy green stew.
But when that breaks me more, I run to another,
Consuming and grasping for anything new.

It’s really just a noble distraction-
All of these fixes with all of their clamor.
They don’t heal the root of my problem,
And just keep my eyes glued on their glamour.

But then my eyes are not fixed
on the One who has said:

I am the living one… I hold the keys to death and the grave.”
I have loved you with an everlasting love.”
I will carry the lambs in my arms, holding them close to my heart.”
My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

The Master Fixer of broken lives,
The Ultimate Molder of everyday clay,
Holding galaxies safe in His hand,
The Mender of Hearts in just the right way.

The clamor around me slowly fades,
As I see the scars in His hands and His side.
I know that all of the fixes I wanted
Will never completely satisfy.

The things that I yearn for most in life,
The Fixer Himself offers to me:
Repentance, salvation, healing my soul,
These things that will last through eternity.

When the fixes run out and I’m left standing empty,
Or the fixes do work, and I’m filled to the brim,
Oh may I always desire the Giver
Far more than I want the gifts from Him.

Explanation of this poem I wrote: I feel like I’ve been on a rollercoaster these past few weeks, as I’ve tried a few different food plans and treatment options for my leaky gut, and made a million visits to my fertility doctor. (Ok, actually only like 7. But it felt like much more.)

I’m very happy to be pursuing these avenues to help my body be healthier and hopefully prevent any future miscarriages. But through my Bible reading and prayer times, I’ve been consistently seeing that I need to rest content in God as my sole sufficiency, no matter what outcome these treatments bring. 

I will still continue to search for these “fixes” for the brokenness in my body. But I know that healing and babies cannot be my idol. That would only make my spirit more broken and farther from God. So in the midst of doctor visits, bone broth, and bloodwork, the end result that I should be seeking is ultimately God Himself and a closer fellowship with Him.

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