I have been asked to write a monthly post for Christianity.com. And I thought I’d start things off with a new excerpt from my book Good News for the Living Dead. Please head over there to read the rest. And, if you wouldn’t mind hitting the “like” button while you’re there, that would be great.
I love it when one of my daughters runs up to me with a broken toy clenched in one tight fist, lips quivering like a nervous jellyfish, eyes bright with tears soon to roll down flushed cheeks. That makes my day.
Now, of course I don’t like seeing the distress that accompanies the tragic breaking of a beloved toy. That I could do without. But I do love the innocent optimism that drives a small child to bring her troubles to me, her dad, confident that I’ll take care of it. Dad can fix it. Dad can fix anything. When it works, and I succeed in repairing the damage, I love the sense of accomplishment, the hugs of gratitude, and the feeling that for one brief moment, I’ve made everything right in the world again. There’s something incredibly satisfying about fixing stuff, something that makes you feel like you’re in control, like what you do matters, like you’ve restored a little harmony to a chaotic and often frustrating world.
Fixing stuff feels good.