He heals the brokenhearted, binding up their wounds. Psalm 147:3 (NLT).
I love the writing of C. S. Lewis. Here’s my favourite extract from The Horse and His Boy:
And being very tired and having nothing inside him, he felt so sorry for himself that the tears rolled down his cheeks. What put a stop to all this was a sudden fright. Shasta discovered that someone or somebody was walking beside him. It was pitch dark and he could see nothing. And the Thing (or Person) was going so quietly that he could hardly hear any footfalls. What he could hear was breathing. His invisible companion seemed to breathe on a very large scale …
If the horse had been any good – or if he had known how to get any good out of the horse – he would have risked everything on a breakaway and a wild gallop. But he knew he couldn’t make that horse gallop. So he went on at a walking pace and the unseen companion walked and breathed beside him. At last he could bear it no longer. “Who are you?” he said, scarcely above a whisper.
“One who has waited long for you to speak,” said the Thing. Its voice was not loud, but very large and deep …
“Oh please – please do go away. What harm have I ever done you? Oh, I am the unluckiest person in the whole world!” Once more he felt the warm breath of the Thing on his hand and face. “There,” it said, “that is not the breath of a ghost. Tell me your sorrows.” Shasta was a little reassured by the breath: so he told how he had never known his real father or mother and had been brought up sternly by the fisherman. And then he told the story of his escape and how they were chased by lions and forced to swim for their lives; and of all their dangers in Tashbaan and about his night among the tombs and how the beasts howled at him out of the desert. And he told about the heat and thirst of their desert journey and how they were almost at their goal when another lion chased them and wounded Aravis. And also, how very long it was since he had had anything to eat.
“I do not call you unfortunate,” said the Large Voice. “Don’t you think it was bad luck to meet so many lions?” said Shasta. “There was only one lion,” said the Voice. “What on earth do you mean? I’ve just told you there were at least two the first night, and …” “There was only one; but he was swift of foot.” “How do you know?”
“I was the lion.”
And as Shasta gasped with open mouth and said nothing, the Voice continued. “I was the lion who forced you to join with Aravis. I was the cat who comforted you among the houses of the dead. I was the lion who drove the jackals from you while you slept. I was the lion who gave the Horses the new strength of fear for the last mile so that you should reach King Lune in time. And I was the lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you.”
“Then it was you who wounded Aravis?”
“It was I.”
“But what for?”
“Child,” said the Voice, “I am telling you your story, not hers.”
Every one of us has a story – the story of our life. What’s your story? What are the scenes, large and small, which have unfolded down through the years? What are the trials and joys you’ve experienced? You’ve lived through quite a story so far, haven’t you? You’ve seen many things, heard many things, felt many things. There’ve been good times and bad times. People have said nice and nasty things about you. You’ve done things that make you proud and things that make you ashamed. You’ve laughed until you cried and cried until you were spent. And it’s all stored in your heart.
Now imagine God walking quietly beside you. You sense Him. You know He’s near. You hear His breathing. And He says, “Tell me your sorrows.” What would you say?
Everything that’s precious can be broken. And that includes our lives. The mind can be broken, the will and heart too. Are you broken in some way? We probably all are; aren’t we? Is your life fragmented? Are there sorrows stashed away in the recesses of your heart that have never been healed? Would you love to have the pieces put together? Would you love to be made whole?
Here’s the good news. God has sent Jesus “to comfort the brokenhearted” Isaiah 61:1 (NLT).
Christ came not only to forgive you, but also to heal you. He wants to take the fractured parts of your life and put them back together. He wants to reintegrate the broken bits. He wants to pick up the pieces – make you whole – make you one. Psalm 147:3 says, “He heals the brokenhearted, binding up their wounds” (NLT).
Let’s pause right here. Jesus wants to heal your heart. And, Jesus can heal your heart. How do you feel about that? Jesus heals the brokenhearted. Does this stir up hope, cynicism or fear?
Once again, imagine God walking quietly beside you. You sense Him. You know He’s near. You hear His breathing. And He says, “Will you let me heal you?” What will you say?