Repair and Remain

I used to blame advertisers for that restlessness and dissatisfaction, but I don’t think that’s right. We were already restless; we always have been. The advertisers just figured out how to nurture, tend, exacerbate, and capitalize on the pre-existing condition, that innate restlessness, promising that something new is going to set all to rights. W

I don’t have the know-how to build you a brand-new house, but I can help fix pretty much anything in your old one. If you do, in fact, need a new house, I’ll send you to Francesco or Myron, or James and Fiona, all of them trustworthy builders and fine people. Odds are the house you’re in right now needs a few updates and minor upgrades, and I’d be

Repair and remain. Work with what you’ve got. Sit still for a moment, take stock, make some changes. Big changes, if necessary.

Repair and remain sounds simple because it is. But simple is not the same as easy. “For better, for worse,” we say, and everyone likes to stay when it’s the better.

Over the past dozen years I have had hundreds of pastoral conversations, mostly with young men, about the challenges of family life. They tell me it’s exhausting, that there’s no more free time, that they’re having a hard time setting aside their dreams and wishes, that kids can be unbearably frustrating. I get it. They tell me that the marriage is

But when they say, “I’m thinking of leaving,” I think, Now hang on a sec. You had me right up to that last bit. Fine: you’ve changed; she’s changed; life has changed. And the kids—well, they’ve disrupted, interrupted, confronted, confounded, and otherwise fundamentally altered everything . All very, very hard. And yes, sometimes it feels impossible