I asked You to fix this, To somehow make it right, To gather what was scattered, Bring the pieces back in sight. I thought fixing meant restoring Everything I'd known before— I never dreamed Your answer Might be opening another door. I had spent so much of myself Trying hard to find my place, Giving time and love and effort, Hoping love would make me safe. And there was so much worth remembering, So much I would never trade— But I couldn't see how much of me Was spent trying to make me stay. Maybe the breaking was the fixing, Though it didn't feel that way. Maybe You were turning both of us Toward the life that still remained. Not because the hurt was good, Not because the wrong was right— But You took what nearly broke us And You turned us toward the light. I kept waiting for You to fix it Like I'd pictured You would do— But maybe the breaking was the fixing, And the fixing led us through. Maybe You were gently turning me Toward the ones already there, Little hands that reached to hold me, Open hearts with love to share. Toward the children who still called me, Toward the places I could give, Where the love I spent on proving I belonged—could simply live. And maybe You were freeing him From a sorrow years had grown— From watching those he loved so deeply Look beyond him, leave him lone. From a lifetime in the shadow Of a love he'd had to lose, Till he finally saw the people Who were standing there to choose . . . him. Maybe the breaking was the fixing, Though it didn't feel that way. Maybe You were turning both of us Toward the life that still remained. Not because the hurt was needed, Not because the wrong was right— But You took what nearly broke us And You turned us toward the light. I kept waiting for You to fix it Like I'd pictured You would do— But maybe the breaking was the fixing, And the fixing led us through. You didn't make the hurting holy. You didn't call the breaking good. You simply wouldn't waste the pieces— You made of them what only You could. And maybe what I thought was broken Wasn't all that needed change; Maybe You were fixing where we looked For love to say our names. Maybe he was meant to learn He's someone's first choice too. Maybe I was meant to learn Love shouldn't have to prove. Maybe the breaking was the fixing, Maybe now I finally see— You weren't only changing circumstances, You were changing where we'd be. You turned our faces toward the people Who had room enough to stay, Toward the life that waited for us, Toward the love already made. And if someday the past comes home, There'll be room to welcome that— But we won't have to lose ourselves To ever get it back. I said, Whether You fix this or not, And trusted You to see us through... Now I wonder if You fixed it In a way I never knew. I thought the answer would be mending Everything that fell apart, but Maybe the breaking was the fixing... Maybe You were fixing where we placed our hearts.
