{{item.title | uppercase}}

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.
Psalm 147:3 (NIV)

God binds up our wounds.

God does not always wait for us to seek Him to bring comfort to our hearts.

Our daughter was a screamer and a breath holder. Over-the-top-drama from birth, literally. As parents of three children, we felt we had this parenting thing down. Obviously a misconception.

Her first bath, I tell her, “You’re going to love this, sweet girl.” I lower her in that sink, suds her up, then turn on the water to wash the soap off. She starts to cry, sucks in air, and holds it. I watch this tiny human begin to turn blue around her lips, and this experienced-mother-of-three charges down the hall, suds flying, to find her daddy to save her.

In her newborn mind, she felt something so horrible was happening, all she could do was cry out. Even though no words were spoken, comfort came within minutes as she was wrapped up, held close and her breathing became normal again.

God reacts to our cries for help when no words can be found.

Do you remember those first days of loss? Are you living in those days now? Many times, it was so hard to find the words to cry out to the Lord. More than four years later, there are days like that still, when all I can say is “Jesus.”

You have said, “Seek My face.”
My heart says to You, “Your face, Lord, do I seek.”
Psalm 27:8 (ESV)

It was about sixteen years ago when I realized the kindness of our Lord, eleven years before my husband passed away. We were celebrating the upcoming birth of our seventh grandchild.

On Christmas Eve while opening presents, our daughter-in-law began to bleed. Around midnight, our son called from the hospital. Through sobs, we heard him say, “We saw our baby’s arms and legs, fingers and toes, but there is no heartbeat.”

Christmas Day was very different that year. We put on our best faces, but grief like that can’t be hidden. Is this how we would remember every Christmas Eve? Would grief forever overshadow our joy?

Just a few months later, we got a call from our son, “Mom, Dad, we’re pregnant. Guess when our due date is. Christmas Eve!

What kind of love is this?

For the first time, I saw the kind, compassionate heart of God. How could I not have recognized that before? He gave His Son to die for my sins. Wasn’t that enough for me to know His heart?

But at that moment, when I heard the due date of this baby, I felt the loving heart of God wrap His arms around our family and say, “My heart breaks when yours does. I will bring you your Christmas miracle.” And He did. His name is Luke Reid. He was born on December 21, 2005, and we celebrated him as we gathered on that next Christmas Eve.

Have you found comfort in knowing that God’s heart knows your pain?

God has written in His Word that He captures our tears!

“You keep track of all my sorrows, have collected all my tears in Your bottle and
recorded each one in Your book.”
Psalm 56:8 (NLT)

God used a beautiful cardinal to show me His heart.

Before Steve passed away, I had read about cardinals. Although it is not in Scripture, there is a common belief amongst various spiritual groups that cardinals are viewed as “Messengers from Heaven.” When I heard this, I was an eye-rolling skeptic.

My first Christmas after Steve passed away, I took on Christmas lights. Almost to the end of the last strand, looking up and thinking, “I did it!”, I stepped on one of the bulbs. Every light went out.

Throwing myself to the ground, wailing, “I can’t do this. It’s too hard,” a beautiful cardinal landed about nine feet away. I instantly got quiet and was filled with the sweetest sense of peace and comfort. I watched as five more cardinals gathered near me.

Maybe it was a coincidence or maybe God orchestrated the flight path of those cardinals. I don’t know, but what I do know is God heals the brokenhearted.

Like our newborn daughter, not knowing the words to say for comfort, I realized God never needed words.

Heavenly Father, thank You that You are always near to the brokenhearted. Open the eyes of our hearts, Lord, that we may never miss Your intimate messages of comfort and peace. Amen