The Portion of my Inheritance

Her little hand rested on the inside of the door, on the hinge side and I tried to close it. I felt the resistance of the door before I realized what was stopping it.

Huge crocodile tears streamed down her face. A deep crease, light purple in color, and  the blood was gathering just below the surface about to spew out, proving to me that I had inflicted an injury and the pain she must have felt. Her tiny little face was pale and she held her hand close to her heart.

My heart quickened, and pain shot from my heart throughout my whole body. My hands shook uncontrollably as I tried to see the damage that I had caused. My own tears ran down my face as I saw the hurt and pain that she was in.

I held her close, praying and covering her with tender kisses. My apologies ran out of my lips repeatedly pouring out over her and our tears mingled together as they streamed down faces and fell together onto her injured hand.

I could not stand to see her in pain, it hurt me to my core. Even now the thought of it congers up tears and pain.

This was not the first time I have felt this unbearable pain at seeing my beloved hurt, either physically or emotionally, and I am sure it will not be the last.

I hate this feeling, it hurts me so deeply seeing them hurt, having no control whatsoever, just watching. . . helpless. . .

A prayer request came through this morning. A child of God is hurt, pain inflicted. And I asked God why there was so much pain everywhere. The prayer chain has been blowing up of late and broken hearts and broken bodies are scattered 

everywhere. It is almost too much for a person to bear.

But as I lifted this precious one up I realized how grieved our Lord must feel at seeing His children in pain. How it must cut Him, and cause Him great pain.

Jesus demonstrated this when His beloved Lazarus had died and He saw the pain that Martha and Mary endured.

And if it pierces our hearts so deeply, how much more would it pierce the heart of the One who loves us so completely and unconditionally.

It was A. W. Tozer that said, “Only love can grieve.”

As much as our human hearts can love and grieve, I can’t begin to imagine how much our Lord must hurt over our pain, for the greater the love, the deeper the pain. For He is the Father that sees His children hurt, and He heals the brokenhearted, and binds up their wounds. And He tells us this once in Psalm 147:3, then again in Isaiah 61:1 and a third time He tells us in Luke 4:18, and this time it is coming from the sweet lips of Jesus Himself, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because He has anointed Me to preach the gospel to the poor; He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed.”

So it is in this truth that I lift these up to Him, knowing that He cares more for them than I could ever imagine, knowing that He and I are binding our hearts together on their behalf, knowing that I am giving them to the only One that can heal them, and He has promised to bind up their wounds and to heal their broken hearts. And dear friends, “He will ever be mindful of His covenant,” Ps. 111:5, for “He remembers His covenant forever.” Ps 105:8

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