Cry of the Broken-Hearted

We cry out from a broken heart,
Shards lying all around us on the ground.
Our tears pour out—
It feels like they will never end.

The pain explodes from within us,
Our chests feeling like they will break apart.
Lying face down on the ground,
Our desperate plea for help and rescue escaping our lips.

Our Kind Shepherd is here,
Never leaving, never abandoning us in grief.
A man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief Himself,
He will not turn away.

He gathers the pieces of our broken hearts,
Tenderly cradling them in His nail-scarred hands.
Not one piece is missed
As He brings them close to His own heart, once broken for us.

Light pours from His gentle fingers,
And as He touches each jagged edge.
He holds two pieces together,
Forging them with gold—Light’s brightness shining through each mend.

Bit by painful bit,
He expands our hearts by healing them.
He allows more room for His love and Light to radiate,
The mending becoming its own work of art.

Broken hearts are not too hurt
For His gentle love to heal and mend.
He binds up the wounded,
Carefully bringing healing and new freedom and life in the process.

You are precious in His sight,
And His eyes leak tears for you in your pain.
He sees you and hears you,
Never leaving even in the darkest valley.

Let Him near your broken heart,
Even if many before have caused more harm.
His touch alone is able
To bring beauty from brokenness and life from death.

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