Fix It

I can’t fix it.

The confusion. The unknown. The hurt.

I wish I could wield a magical tool that would transform all the pain and uncertainty, fear and doubt into a beautiful package tied up with a nice shiny bow.

Oh how I wish I could blink my eyes and your tears would be dried and your heart restored, free to trust and laugh and love.

My heart breaks at the sound of yours breaking.

I can’t fix this. Or change it. Or even make it the slightest bit better.

But I can walk with you.

Hand in hand through this valley of shadow. Where the road seems hidden, shrouded in debris.

I can sit side by side. And cry. And nod. And hope.

I can throw myself at the feet of the One who loves you more than you or I could ever fathom. I can pour my heart out on your behalf when you don’t have the strength. Or faith. Or words.

I can hug your neck. Make tea. Love those walking with you.

No, I can’t fix this.

But I can love you. And until the Sunlight shines on your face again – and even then – I am here.

Photo by Eflon

I’m linking up with The Better Mom, Time Warp Wife, Growing Home, Women Living Well, Raising Homemakers

Comments 8

kara@thechuppies

June 2, 2012 at 1:19 am

I love this Jen.
Honestly…these are the friendships I hold closest.
Where it’s okay to not be fixed.
When we were walking through the deep pain after Selah died, these were the friendships I needed.
Just the williingness to be there. in the middle of the pain. to weep with the weeper.
To point to Him and His love, but to give freedom and room for hurting.
And His timing.
His healing and His fixing.
To pray that we’ll together be able to “pour out our hearts before Him” ~Psalm 62
Because He is the only real refuge…

Emily Cook (@Weakandloved)

June 2, 2012 at 1:40 am

beautiful post. that is exactly what we are called to do. We do not get to be the ones who fix, but we can enter in and side beside and walk along with others…

Emily