Psalms...it has got to be one of my favorite books of the Bible;
right up there with Ecclesiastes and Lamentations.
I wanted to share this passage as well as a poem
that goes along with it...
He healeth the broken in heart,
and bindeth up their wounds.
He telleth the number of the stars;
he calleth them all by their names.
(Ps. 147:3-4)
With His healing hand on a broken heart,
And the other on a star,
Our wonderful God views the miles apart,
And they seem not very far.
O it makes us cry - then laugh - then sing,
Tho' tis all beyond our ken;
He bindeth up wounds on that poor crushed thing,
And He makes it whole again.
Was there something shone from that healed new heart
Made the Psalmist think of stars --
That bright as the sun or the lightnings' dart,
Sped away past earthly bars?
In a low place sobbing by death's lone cart,
Then a flight on whirlwind's cars;
One verse is about a poor broken heart,
And the next among the stars.
There is hope and help for our sighs and tears,
For the wound that stings and smarts;
Our God is at home with the rolling spheres,
And at home with broken hearts.
(M.P. Ferguson)
This poem is from Springs in the Valley. I first read
it 3 years ago during a very trying time in my life.
It meant alot to me then...and I never want to
forget it.