Saturday, March 25
Healing the Broken-hearted
From my earliest days until I was a young adult, I looked up to my uncle. I was always excited to see him. It seemed like he always had something new with him or something to share. We both loved Lionel trains, and he encouraged me with building a large layout in my Grandmaís basement. He was a lot of fun to be with. He was a 5th grade teacher. He never married, and a part of him was still a big kid.
On a beautiful, sunny April day, my life changed.
I returned to my dorm room from class, and my roommate told me that I needed to call my mom as soon as possible. My uncle had passed away suddenly.
I didnít and couldnít understand how he could be gone at only 51. My uncle wasnít old. There should have been many years left and a lot more memories to happen. It wasnít to be
I was crushed. Shattered. I felt I had no control over my feelings at the funeral.
Days stretched into months. Sadness and depression never left. I just didnít understand. I was mad. It bothered me how he had passed away. He was alone, and it appeared he had a heart attack. Nobody was there to help him. If he hadnít been alone, could he have been saved? It just kept crossing my mind. I prayed for answers. Nothing happened.
And then something happened one night that I canít really explain. I know that God answered my prayer, provided me with comfort and healed my sadness. I thought about Psalm 147:3 which says, "He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." I was brokenhearted, but the Lord came and healed my sorrow. I still missed my uncle , but I knew that he was now in the arms of Jesus and that I shouldnít worry about him anymore. I felt the presence of God and knew that everything was going to be okay.
When I feel this sorrow creep back into my life, I revisit Psalm 147:3 and know that God is with me.
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