A Healing Wildflower Reflection

There are certain scriptures that don’t just speak to you — they find you. They walk right into the cracks of your heart, settle in the places you’ve been trying to hide, and whisper a truth you forgot you were allowed to believe.

For me, that verse is Psalm 147:3:

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”

The very first time I read it, something in me softened. Something in me unclenched. Something in me finally breathed. Because if there’s any verse that mirrors the story of my life so far — the trauma, the survival, the rebuilding, the slipping, the rising, the grace — it’s this one.

I’ve been brokenhearted more times than I can count. By family. By childhood. By loss. By the things I never said and the things I wish I didn’t say. By the battles in my own mind. By the moments I slipped backwards when I wanted so badly to move forward.

And yet… here I am. Still healing. Still growing. Still held. Still becoming. Because He didn’t just patch me up — He bound me up.

Binding is intimate. Binding is gentle. Binding means God gets close enough to touch the parts of me I would rather hide.

And the wildest part? He already knows which wounds hurt the most… and He moves toward them anyway.

This verse isn’t just a pretty line of scripture. It’s a map of my healing journey.

It’s every EMDR tear. Every prayer I whispered half-asleep. Every relapse I forgave myself for. Every step forward I didn’t think I could take. Every morning I decided I was worth trying again.

It’s a reminder that God isn’t watching my healing from a distance — He’s in it with me. Bandaging me. Steadying me. Holding me through every shaky step.

And I’m learning something important: You have to arm yourself with the Word when you’re walking through healing.

Not because you’re weak — but because the world will absolutely try to reopen the wounds God is trying to close.

Scripture is a weapon, yes… but it’s also a lifeline. A shield. A soft place to land. A compass when your emotions are loud and your history is louder.

Psalm 147:3 is the verse I need on my tongue when my mind starts slipping into old patterns.

It’s the verse I need taped on my mirror. Screenshotted in my phone. Saved as my cover photo. Written in my journal. Whispered when I feel myself breaking again.

Because every time I repeat it, I’m reminding my spirit:

God is not done binding me. God is not done healing me. God is not done with my story.

And honestly? I don’t want Him to be. I’m learning to actually want His pace instead of forcing my own.

Healing is slower than I thought. But it’s so much softer than I expected.

✨ Closing Prayer

God, help me memorize this verse — not just in my mind, but in my bones. Write Psalm 147:3 on my heart so deeply that it rises up in me when I am hurting, when I am overwhelmed, when I am tempted to go backwards, and when I forget how far You’ve carried me. Let this scripture become my daily reminder that You heal what others broke and You bind what life tried to leave open. Help me speak it, believe it, and live inside the truth of it every single day. Amen.

🌙 Reflection Prompt

Where in my life do I still feel un-bandaged — and what would it look like to let God bind that place too?

XOXO, The Healing Wildflower