📖“He heals the broken-hearted and binds up their wounds.”
Psalm 147:3
In the stillness of our group prayer session, where I'd received ministry, something sacred unfolded.
A vision was shared: The Lord stood surrounded by angels, His hands tender and purposeful. He released a balloon — something once held, now gently surrendered — and then turned His full attention to a heart He was holding in His hand.
He wasn’t hurried. He wasn’t frustrated.
With extraordinary care, He stitched and shaped the brokenness with golden thread.
The angels watched in awe. One leaned in and asked, “Whose heart is that, Lord?🤔”
He smiled with that unmistakable blend of fierce love and gentle delight.
“Trixi’s,” He replied.
That single word pierced through everything.
He knows your name. He knows your wounds.
And He doesn’t discard the broken — He restores them with love.
Like a master sculptor, He shapes what was shattered into something sacred.
Like the stitches in clay, He marks your healing with beauty and intention.
The pain wasn’t wasted.
The process isn’t random.
The hands that formed the stars are the same ones restoring your heart — thread by thread, breath by breath, prayer by prayer.
So let Him work. Let Him hold your heart.
Even when it feels raw. Even when it takes time.
Because the Great Physician doesn’t rush the miracle.
And when the angels ask whose heart is being healed —
He says yours, too.
Reflection:
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