What Cannot Be Fixed is anchored in the terrain of the broken world: the old Adam, the prodigal son, loneliness, exile, and Christ's cries of abandonment on the cross. There is much that cannot be fixed, but in the midst of the loss are the flashes and glimmers of promise, of Advent, of reunion, the empty tomb, and grace. Words uncurl in Eve's throat, the conductor raises his baton in that split second before the music begins, the blind see, the atheist heart patient hears God in the music of the recovery room. God is there, his shape sometimes difficult to discern, his words often whispers amidst the daily-ness of life. This collection of poems is about living the paradox: simul justus et peccator—the believer is both justified and a sinner. It is true that much of what we see and live cannot be fixed. And it is also true that the potter reworks the broken pot.