Fixers

As I was channel surfing the other day, I paused for a moment and thought about a man who had fixed a problem for me. His name wasn’t Marcus Lemonis; it was A.P. Lindsey, and he was The Fixer decades before Marcus was born.

When Mr. Lindsey returned to El Dorado, Kansas after his stint in the Navy during WWII, he worked for McClure’s Motor Company.  A few years later, he opened his own shop—Lindsey’s Body Shop.  A.P. was known as a master craftsman and painter, and the man you wanted to put the pieces of your car back together after a wreck.

When the wing-window on my vehicle broke, I dropped it off at Lindsey’s to get it  fixed. When I returned a couple of hours later, he said: “Stan, that part was too expensive so I fixed it by making a part out of some of the scrap metal in the shop.” When I examined Lindsey’s work, it was much better than the original. 

People like A.P. are a rare breed today—he wasn’t just a part replacer, he was a fixer.

Fixers are people who don’t fume and fuss over the difficulties they face, they simply begin and then do whatever is necessary to finish. Some people make trouble, others make excuses, but fixers make good—they keep their promises.

Even though Lindsey drew his last breath and went on to his reward on December 3, 2010, I still remember that his quiet enthusiasm was contagious, and how it infected the lives of his family and friends.

May God bless us with more men and women who are determined to be fixers—people who are craftsmen with highly honed skills, and fixers like Lindsey who are the iron that sharpens the character of others (Proverbs 22:17) and who seek out opportunities to help those in need (Galatians 6:10).

Moths, Mice, and T-Rex

From my childhood days to the present, I’ve been captivated by the vibrant colors of a sunrise as well as the darkening of the horizon as day yields to sunset.

This past Friday I settled into my blind to enjoy the sights and sounds of Mother Nature, and she rewarded me with the shuffling feet of a covey of quail on fallen leaves, the cawing of crows in a nearby corn field, and to an unsuspecting bobcat who trotted past me, oblivious to my presence.

My contemplative moment was interrupted when my chair suddenly ripped, and I fell to the ground. When I landed on my rump with a bone-rattling thump, I was certain that seismic monitors had sent an earthquake alert to the USGS.

Though I’m on the hefty side, the problem was not my weight, and it was not moths who had the munchies—it was a mouse. A mouse! My solitude had been gnawed away through the turpitude of a ravenous rodent that had devoured the underside of my chair like it was a Thanksgiving feast.

As I was lying on the ground, I thought of the wise words of Jesus: “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroy and where thieves do not break in nor steal, for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also (Matthew 6:19-21).”

Even though my treasure was fairly new, comfortable, strong and sturdy, it was no match for the teeth of a tiny mouse with the appetite of a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

What about your treasures? Are they fragile, frail, and feeble, or are they decent, distinctive, and dynamic? “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.