He Heals the Brokenhearted. Psalm 147:3

Logan didn’t cry at the funeral. Not during the burial. Not even when he packed up his mother’s house. But a week later, standing in the canned goods aisle of a grocery store, he saw a jar of strawberry jam—her favorite—and the dam broke. Grief came crashing in, not as a wave but as a collapse. Right there, next to the peanut butter.

Sometimes healing begins when you finally stop pretending you're okay.

He rushed out, sat in his car, and finally let the tears fall. “I thought I was strong enough,” he whispered, clutching the steering wheel. But the truth was—he was shattered. Everyone had moved on. Sent cards. Brought meals. Said the right words. But now, he felt forgotten and hollow. The kind of broken that doesn’t show on the outside.

That night, Logan opened a Bible his mom had given him years ago. The front cover was inscribed in her handwriting: “He heals the brokenhearted.” He didn’t know where it came from, but he flipped to the index and found Psalm 147:3. The words hit him like a lifeline: “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” That night, he didn’t pray for answers. He just let God hold the pieces.

Over the next few weeks, Logan began writing letters to his mom—not to send, but to process. Every morning, he would sit by the window, pour coffee into her old mug, and write. Slowly, the weight began to shift. Not disappear—but lift. Because healing wasn’t about forgetting—it was about trusting the One who could bind what no one else could see.

One Sunday, he finally returned to church. The music felt different. The message felt personal. The people didn’t ask him to “be okay”—they simply welcomed him in his brokenness. He joined a grief support group and shared his story. And to his surprise, people started saying, “Thank you—I needed to hear that.”

Some promises are so powerful, you tape them where your heart can’t forget.

Today, Logan keeps Psalm 147:3 taped to his refrigerator, scribbled on a notecard in his wallet, and etched in his heart. It’s more than a verse—it’s a reminder that He heals the brokenhearted, and healing doesn’t mean you're weak. It means you’re still alive, still showing up, and still held together by the hands of a loving God.