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Mr. Fix It

  • daughterwithjoy
  • Sep 19, 2021
  • 5 min read

“I don’t need you to fix it, I just need you to listen.” I’m pretty sure I’m not alone when I tell you that I hear this phrase at least once a month… okay, once a week… okay, probably once a day. For some reason, it seems like I am programmed with a desire to want to immediately fix a problem without listening to the problem thoroughly. Maybe I’m not alone here when I say that active listening just doesn’t come easy to me.

When I was younger, I would shut things off to cope with hard times – most of my worst memories are buried in the back of my mind and only come out if I’m reminded of them. For example, if there was a scene on a TV show or movie that I didn’t like, I’d switch the channel and then come back to it. Nowadays my brain still works similarly – if I hear something that I don’t like, I’ll either change the subject or find another way to avoid the topic.


This all changed recently when I was faced with a topic that couldn’t be dodged. As a husband and dad, my “to-do list” is full of things around the house to fix, and it’s easy to fix toys, objects, holes, appliances, etc. But what I’ve found is that it isn’t easy fixing situations, and I hate it.

For you, maybe you have an addiction that you can’t break, or you have debt that you can’t pay off, or you have a relationship with a child, parent or significant other than just never seems to get any better. Maybe you were just handed divorce paperwork. Or maybe you suffer from abuse, or you suffered from abuse that continues to haunt you. Don’t you wish it was as simple as buying a new tool or appliance?

When Aria was 3 ½ years old, she was diagnosed with cancer, and the doctors told me that they didn’t know what caused it, but they were confident that they could cure it. I couldn’t fix it, but at least they could, right?

Then, a month later, they told me that they didn’t know why it wasn’t cured, but they were still confident that they’d get her cancer in remission. Not great news, but not bad. A couple months later they told me that something was different with Aria’s cancer, but they were still optimistic. A couple weeks after that, they told me that she had a mutation that was so rare that she would be one of the only children in the world diagnosed this year. The doctors were no longer sure if they’d be able to fix it, but they promised that they would try their best. “We will do everything we can,” are not the words that a dad wants to hear about his child. This time, I couldn’t just change the subject or avoid the topic altogether. I had to face the truth.




I remember sitting up in the middle of the night, researching everything I could, and just crying because I couldn’t find anything positive about her cancer diagnosis. The problem about a rare mutation is that there’s not much research on it. Previous studies published a few years ago showed a 0% survival rate. The only scientific research that we can cling to is a 2017 study of 9 kids that had this mutation. 3 of the children had achieved what was considered a durable remission (3 years in considered a long-term remission), 3 of the children were in short-term remission (<1 year since transplant), and unfortunately, the other 3 did not make it. This is the only “positive” study that exists for Aria’s diagnosis.

At this point, almost all of you know Aria’s story. What you may not know is the stress that the situation put on me, my wife, and my family. What you may not realize is how the situation seemed impossible and is impossible to fix.



Isn’t it great when people that can’t relate to your situation give you advice? We all have that friend that holds such a great wealth of knowledge and we’re so privileged to know them and be able to learn from them. I had some people tell me that I needed to hold my family together. I needed to be the rock that my wife could lean on, and the way to “fix” the situation was to be strong in the face of uncertainty and portray toughness. (I think all the people that told me this were men). While that’s not necessarily bad advice, it’s not what my wife and girls needed. They didn’t need me to “fix” anything; they needed me to listen, be attentive to their needs, show emotion, and assure them that we could get through this together.


One bible verse that my wife and I constantly reminded each other of (and continue to reminder each other of) is 1 Corinthians 10:13 that says that God will not give us more than we can handle:

"And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it."

In this verse, “tempted” is synonymous with “tested”. When I remind Chelsy of this verse she always says the same thing: “Adam, God did give us more than we can handle.” I watched my wife tirelessly try to fix the situation as best as possible. She is Aria’s caregiver – She holds Aria through all the needle pokes and throw-up bags, talks her through all the anesthesia naps, and wipes her tears countlessly through sad times. She also takes care of our other daughters, tells them that we believe Aria is going to be okay and has assured them that we’d be together as a family again soon. Chelsy fixes the situation as best as she can with the tools that are available, but it is still overwhelming. It isn't easy. It wasn’t easy; nothing that we have gone through was easy.


Whatever you are going through may not be easy – it may feel like it is more than you can handle. Chelsy and I both have had swirling emotions – Anxiety, doubt, disbelief, sadness, grief, anger, frustration – there were and still are times that we take our emotions out on one another. As I think about it more, I do believe that God gave us more than Chelsy and I could handle – but not more than we could handle with Him by our side. I haven’t been strong, but I have learned what it means to put my faith in Christ.

So how does this all relate back to being Mr. Fix It? What I have realized more than anything through our journey with childhood cancer is that I do not have to fix everything. My need to immediately take action to make the problem better needs to be slowed down. I need to stop and listen, and then stop and pray, because I have a relationship with the ultimate fixer. He has been through it all with us, He knows the pains and struggles I feel, and He knows all of the story He has a plan for us.


Regardless of the outcome, leaning on Jesus is the only way for me to be strong for my family. So, instead of desperately trying to be “Mr. Fix It,” I am looking to the only one who can fix it.

"Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that the family of believers throughout the world is undergoing the same kind of sufferings. And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast." 1 Peter 5:7-10


 
 
 

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