Monday, April 8, 2013


The other day my son came up to me with his wooden toy wrench and started turning it around my leg and knee. I smiled and asked him what he was doing. He replied, matter-of-factly, "I'm fixing you, mommy." So I laughed and brushed it off, saying I didn't know I needed to be fixed.

But then I thought more about it later, his cute little gesture coming to mind, but then placed more focus on my response.

I do need to be fixed. We all do, really. But we can't do the fixing, nor can any other person on this earth. There are temporary fixes, distractions, things we utilize for bandaging our hearts and filling our voids, however futile and short-lived they may be.

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