Men are wired to fix things. But sometimes, fixing things isn’t the job you’re here to do.
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“Do What You Can, With What You Have, Where You Are” ~ President Theodore Roosevelt
Men are wired to fix things. We get frustrated when we can’t fix something, yet we love a good challenge.
What I can’t stand is feeling helpless. This isn’t the pity kind of helpless; it’s the “there’s nothing you can do” kind of helpless.
Fourteen years ago in the midst of a raging thunderstorm rolling into downtown Omaha, Nebraska, my daughter Anna entered the world via emergency C-section. She was three months early and weighed only two pounds.
And I have never felt so helpless.
Do What You Can
Do what is in your power and capacity to do. It’s impossible to do more, but you can fall short of your abilities. That is where the only true failure comes. If you fail having given all that you can, no one can call you a failure. It’s only when you leave your best effort undone that you have failed.
At about 2 am I was invited to meet my daughter and it was the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced. I had no positive expectations. The worst possible thoughts entered my mind.
I didn’t want to go back to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU), but I couldn’t say no. So I scrubbed my hands and was given a quick lesson on medical protocols. The entire experience was a sleep-deprived, worry-enhanced blur of activity.
And then I saw her.
She was bigger than the nightmare in my mind. At 15-inches long (I guess tall doesn’t apply when you can’t stand), her skin was a dark pink, almost red color and it was paper-thin. My wedding ring fit over her hand and all the way up to her shoulder.
I couldn’t hold her, but I could lay my hand on her torso. It was all I could do for her, but in that moment, a simple touch was enough for both of us.
With What You Have
It’s easy to wish ourselves better resources or more time when faced with a conflict. We can regret not having prepared. We can lament leaving our umbrella at home on a rainy day.
Of course it’s all a waste of time if we do. Save the lessons learned for the post-mortem. After the conflict has passed, you’ll have time to evaluate and prepare for the next one. But in the moment, you simply have to do your best.
My wife Heather struggled to recover from the C-section. In my mind her recovery was assured because she was an adult. I was blind to her experience and absorbed in my own. I have many regrets looking back on that time.
I had a new baby that my wife couldn’t see or touch for days (it would be five weeks before we could even hold her). I had an abundance of time, so I spent it caring for my daughter and my wife as best as I could, but my wife got the short end of the deal.
I was a doting father and a terrible husband, and it was the best I could do. I simply didn’t have the maturity, capacity, or knowledge to do anything else.
Where You Are
It’s also easy to wish you were somewhere other than the middle of a raging sea of difficulty. However, you can’t affect it if you’re not there. This is where you do what you do best with the resources at your disposal.
No one could have prepared me for the early arrival of my first child. No book could have explained all that would happen. Even if I had known, there are some things you just have to experience to understand.
I didn’t want to be where I was. Anna spent about 72 days in the hospital. There were good days and bad days. I visited every single day except one, when another baby was having a really bad day and no visitors were allowed.
I went back to work. I did the best I could for my wife, who couldn’t visit everyday and spent most of that time recovering from the surgery and dealing with her own experience.
There are still things that are beyond my ability to control, and I don’t always have the sense of peace that I had in the summer of 2000.
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I was happy and tired and frustrated and worried and hopeful all at the same time. But through it all there was a sense of peace about the entire situation that I still cannot explain. I knew it was going to be okay. I was not a Christian at the time, but I felt the presence of God walking with me, holding me up, and keeping me going.
Others told me I was in denial, but no one was standing in my shoes, and I wasn’t standing in theirs. It was my experience and I was in it alone. We all lived our own version of the story.
Today Anna is 14 years old. She has an adopted brother named Ian who is 10. Heather and I have been married more than 18 years, and will soon celebrate the 25th anniversary of our first date. Either we are stubbornly loyal or I’ve improved as a husband. It’s probably a bit of both.
But it’s far from a fairy tale ending. There are still health issues. There are still problems. There are still things that are beyond my ability to control, and I don’t always have the sense of peace that I had in the summer of 2000.
So I remember eleven simple words from President Theodore Roosevelt: “Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.”
Eleven words that are so simple and obvious yet remind me to be my best no matter what circumstances surround me.
Read More Inspiration Unpacked on The Good Men Project
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Photo: Flickr/Lindsey Turner
Not all men are conditioned to fix things because they have been conditioned not to do anything unless they are told to do so, or that they are not paid to think, or they have been told that they can’t solve everything in life, so in many cases, they just gave up and just not do anything
Sadly there’s some truth to your comment, G. I would say that those men are broken and need fixing. I believe the desire to fix is still there, just dormant. Thanks for reading the article and adding your thoughts!