Broken Hearted

Dear Lord,
I think I have broken my heart, can you fix it?

As kids run to their parents for comfort, so should we Christians do in time of pain or grief. The bible made us to understand that a broken and contrite heart God will not turn away. Ps 51:17. But why do we find it so difficult to run to our Father? He already promised in His word to comfort us." Isaiah 66:13. So why are we dragging our feet?

I am guilty of this. I know who HE is and what HE is to me, but each time I stumble I feel like I will never get back up again. Most times, the accuser derails me into thinking I played my last hand. But He is not a man to count fault, if He was to count fault who can stand against him? He knows me, He has searched me. Even before I was born He knew me. And I know He loves me. I know that His grace is sufficient for me. Why "thou downcast oh my soul?"

Thank God that I have Him to run to for comfort. I am not an orphan. It may take a minute for me to realize of whom I belong to, but He is ever ready, available, with open arms to comfort me. "Not one thing has failed of all the good things which the Lord My God spoke. Not one word of them has failed." Joshua 23:14 (NKJV). Such words of comfort to know that I am secured in His promise, that I can rely on Him to wipe my tears and bring laughter back in my life.

I don't know what you may be going through, your heart may be broken like mine...He is waiting for you to come home to get healed. No questions asked, no nagging, sarcastic comments, jokes or payment. He is calling you, come home...humble yourself and come to Him. He will fix your broken heart.

It Is Well With My Soul

When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Refrain:
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

Horatio Spafford