“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds” (Ps. 147:3).
It is normal to rush past pain, even sensible really. But Psalm 147:3 offers a sacred pause. Is there something for us to receive from the healing of brokenness? Can our healing be used to minister healing to others?
The psalmist doesn’t declare that God only notices the brokenhearted, he proclaims that God heals them. This is not a distant sympathy, but an intimate act of restoration. The Hebrew word for “heals” (רָפָא, rapha) carries connotations of mending, curing, and making whole. It’s the same word used of God as the Great Physician throughout Scripture.
To be brokenhearted is to carry grief, loss, betrayal, or disappointment so deep it fractures or is fracturing the soul. Yet the psalm assures us: God does not recoil from our wounds. He draws near. Like a skilled surgeon and a tender shepherd, He binds up what has been torn or broken. The imagery evokes Isaiah 61:1, the Anointed sent “The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound,” a promise fulfilled in Yeshua, who bore our sorrows and carried our griefs.
This verse resonates profoundly within messianic faith. Yeshua’s ministry was marked by healing, not just of bodies, but of hearts. He restored dignity to the shamed, voice to the silenced, and hope to the despairing. Those who were rejected by religiosity. His touch was not transactional, it was healing. In Him, the binding of wounds is not a temporary fix, but a sign of kingdom restoration, as in the woman with the issue of blood, whom He called “daughter,” restoring her to life.
Rabbinic tradition often speaks of God as the One who descends into the low places to lift up the fallen. Psalm 147:4 affirms this: the One who numbers the stars also kneels beside the brokenhearted. There is no wound too deep, no sorrow too hidden, that He cannot redeem.
For the weary leader: You do not have to minister from your wounds alone. Let Him bind them first.
For the grieving soul: Your pain is not invisible. God sees, God heals, God stays.
For the harvest laborer: Create spaces where brokenness is not shamed but welcomed, because healing begins with honesty.
Father, Healer of hearts, draw near to every soul carrying silent sorrow. Bind up what has been torn and broken by life, loss, or rejection. May Your presence be the healing balm, Your Word be stitching, and Your Spirit be the comfort. Through Yeshua, our wounded Healer, we receive restoration. In Jesus Name. Amen.
Many years ago I heard a story of an exchange that took place at the mikvah (baptismal) of Rebbe Nachman of Breslov (April 4, 1772 – October 16, 1810), a great-grandson of the Baal Shem Tov. An old chasid (a pious disciple) of Reb Nachman was discouraged to see a young baal tshuvah (master of return, meaning someone who has returned to religious life) covered with tattoos from head to toe enter the mikvah (immersion waters). He asked in anger, “How can you enter the holy waters of Rebbe Nachman’s mikvah looking like this? Get those removed!” The young man answered with a tear in his eye, “I will not get my tattoos removed; because I want the world to see what the teachings of Rebbe Nachman have delivered me from.” Another older man, a holocaust survivor, quieted the old chasid and said to the young man, showing him his own arm, “Don’t worry, I won’t have my tattoo removed either; as I want the world to see the hell that Rebbe Nachman has delivered me from!”
I am always blessed and amazed to see the tapestry the Lord has worked together through Messiah Yeshua/Jesus, woven with our histories and scars. To the untrained eye, it can look a mess; but in the Spirit, the visible and invisible scars become evidence of restoration.
In Matthew 16:13-20 Yeshua asks, “Who do you say I am?” Peter answers in beautiful and poetic language: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.” His answer reveals the knowledge of Yeshua’s identity as the central figure of the Jewish future, and His eternal personhood as the “only begotten.” This is not a revelation originating in the flesh, as no man can reason themselves to faith in the Messiah; rather, the truth of His identity will be revealed to the inward man by the Father, and confirmed here on earth, as the Lord draws us to His Son by the Holy Spirit.
How many of us would love to have had this level of revelation while standing face to face with Yeshua? We could assume that this level of revelation and certainty would ensure, not a trouble or tribulation free faith walk, but at least a firmness of faith in Yeshua. Yet, Peter, just a short time after this confession, on the evening when Yeshua was arrested and tried, denied Him.
We are all well aware of this circumstance, as Yeshua said, “Amen, I tell you, today – this very night – before a rooster crows twice, you will deny Me three times” (Mk. 14:30). Peter, of course, boldly declares that he will never deny Him (Mk. 14:31); yet, he did (Mk. 15:66-72).
Peter’s life, discipleship, denial, and restoration has been a constant reminder to me personally, and to my life as a shepherd. I should have been disqualified before I even began to walk with Him if He judged me based on my broken word to Him. How many promises made and broken? Promises to give more, prayer more, study more, witness more, etc., always more, more, more … an inclination to “more-ness” does not demonstrate an accurate understanding of the gospel. We have all done this.
How then, do we avoid feelings of rejection, failure, inadequacy in light of this, or shame for the scars we continue to bear?
Peter was the oldest of the disciples from what we can tell. Peter is like a big brother, fumbling along before the other younger disciples, helping to search out this way of faith in Messiah. Yet, when Peter needed to stand firm, he failed. His failure did not look good.
Here’s the good news. Yeshua does not need any of us to stand for Him in ourselves; and that was Peter’s mistake, attempting to stand in his own faith and courage. Peter, yet to be regenerate by the risen Messiah, was powerless to stand against a simple question and assertion put to him by a young woman. We can only stand in Him.
I’ve often wondered how Peter felt, where he went, and what he experienced in those hours between his denial and learning of Messiah’s resurrection. Lost to history, but from personal experience, we can probably relate to his pain and feelings of isolation.
John records the beautiful scene of Peter’s restoration in John 21:15-17; but Yeshua already revealed the way to his restoration, even before Peter’s repentance. In Mark 16:7, as Mary and her company of women observe the empty tomb, the angel says to them, “But go, tell His disciples and Peter, ‘He is going before them to the Galilee…” Mark, who is recording the gospel according to Peter, is the only one to record “and Peter.” Matthew had no need to, Luke would have closely investigated the matter and found it an accepted fact, and John includes his own restoration narrative.
The angel announced what others might have doubted: the restoration of Peter who publicly denied Yeshua. Before Peter could announce the Gospel to Jerusalem in Acts 2, to Gentiles in Acts 10, and defend the inclusion of those who should be excluded in Acts 15, wholly restored, was used mightily even with the deep scar of public denial.
Once on the mission field, a bishop of important standing spotted a scar, or more accurately a brand on my arm. He said, “In my culture that means you are a slave.” The “brand” was the result of a night of heavy drinking as a young man. Several of us decided to test who could hold a hot lighter on their arm the longest. Needless to say, none of us remembered who “won,” but we did wake up to the pain. My response to the bishop was, “I was a slave to sin, but now I am a slave to God.”
What the enemy meant as sign of our disqualification, the Lord renews into a scar of reconciliation, and a living sign of our qualification in Him. When you feel that your internal scars or external scars have disqualified you, as I have taught many times before, learn how to say, “tell his disciples and ______ …” fill in your name. If the angels rejoice at one sinner coming to salvation, and heaven has called you by name, then there is not textual difficulty in personalizing this text that restored Peter as a reminder of the restoration in your own life, or the lives of those around you. Those unpleasant looking scars are a beautiful witness and testimony of the hell “has delivered me from!” Glory to His name!
the mountain mensch 