I grew up in a small Texas town. My accent was as thick as concrete, and I had a whole lingo understood only by those indigenous to The Big Thicket area of The Lone Star State.
When I left home and went to Baylor University, the big city, I had to in some ways learn the English language, and my friends had to learn mine, whatever it was. As a matter of fact, I was affectionately called, ”Reba” in the school of Speech Pathology and Audiology and it was NOT because I could sing! One term I used frequently and was made fun of for was fixing, but this was not fixing in the sense of I am fixing the car or fixing the clock. It was, I am fixing to go to the store. I am fixing to eat dinner. You get it, right?
I have been thinking a lot lately about what I am fixing. What am I fixing up in my life? My home? My appearance? My reputation? My people? I spend so much time “fixing” the things of this world, yet my heart longs for eternity. How much time am I spending preparing myself and my sphere of influence for our final destination?
What I have realized is “fixing” up things can become addictive and insidiously serve as band-aids that are concealing deep wounds.
As long as we are breathing there will always be something to fix. Right now I have a list of at least ten things, I am sure. But all these things are but dust in the scope of eternity so why do I spend so much futile energy there?
When my vision is focused horizontally, and I am often out of focus, I can too quickly get caught up in all the tasks I see that “need” to be completed. I do have responsibilities, and I am not suggesting neglecting them. But eternity. That is where I want to place the weight of my attention.
As we said in that tiny little Southeast Texas town, I am fixing to go. Well, friends, someday soon I am fixing to go to Heaven, and when the roll is called up yonder, I intend to be there, and no amount of fixing down here is going with me. I hope to see you there!