“If it ain’t broke don’t fix it!”

That’s what I’ve heard.

But what if not fixing it makes it worse?

Makes it beyond the point of repair…

Pushes it past the grasp of a first aid kit, healing conveniently stored for broken moments such as this.

Broken like hearts torn from abuse and neglect?

Or glasses shattered from an accidental bump into the table…

Fractured like an arm after a daring leap out of an old tree…

Broken like the will of a  country hit over and over and over again by inclement weather and inhumane circumstances.

Broken like the promise to have, to hold, in sickness and health, for better for worse

For richer, for poorer

Til death do you part.

Please, fix that. 

Fix the notion that if you leave it alone long enough it will just go away.

Repair the repressive, inferior ideal that NO daddy, means NObody, will ever take NO thing I do…serious.

I mean seriously how many unexplainable, unnecessary, unsolicited threats to the human life does it take to restore the quality of human life?

I say if it’s broke, fix it.

Time does not heal all wounds,

It only leads to infection  due to non-treatment

Hardship and conflict do not mean the end of something. 

They mean the beginning of something worth fighting for,

So fight for, what is broken.

Scrape and claw for the messed up, hardly recognizable state of the human existence. 

We’ve lived with broken dreams, love, promises and everything in between.

We are broke.

So Lord,

Fix it. 

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