Near the brokenhearted
Closest in the crushing
The psalmist makes a claim that runs against all our instincts about where God is found: the Lord is near to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit. We tend to assume God is nearest to the strong, the joyful, the spiritually thriving — and that brokenness pushes him away, that the crushed are somehow at the far edge of his attention. The opposite is true. He draws nearest to the broken.
This is one of the great reversals of the valley. The very condition we are most ashamed of, the brokenheartedness we want to hide, is precisely what draws God close. He is not repelled by our shattered state; he is drawn to it. The crushed in spirit, who feel furthest from him, are in fact the ones he has come especially near to save.
Another psalm makes the tenderness explicit: he heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. This is the picture — not a distant God keeping his distance from the mess, but a near God, kneeling beside the broken, binding wounds with his own hands. The valley, for all its darkness, is a place of unusual nearness, because it is full of exactly the brokenhearted ones God draws close to. If your heart is broken, you are not far from God. By his own promise, you are near to him, and he to you.
“The LORD is near to those who have a broken heart, and saves those who have a crushed spirit.”
— David — Psalm 34:18 (WEB)
Believe that your brokenness draws God near rather than pushing him away — for he is closest to the crushed in spirit, kneeling to bind their wounds.
“He heals the broken in heart, and binds up their wounds.”
We picture God the way we picture admired company — drawn to the impressive and put off by the wreckage — and so when we are most undone we expect him to keep his distance. The interior work is to believe the psalmist's reversal against that picture — the LORD is near to the brokenhearted — and to stop reading our shattered state as distance, bringing the crushed heart to him as the very thing that draws him close to bind it.
This week, instead of hiding your brokenness or believing it has pushed you from God, bring your crushed heart to him as the very thing that draws him near: tell him where you are broken, and trust that he is close, binding up the wound.
Our instincts lie about where God is found, posting him among the thriving and shoving the crushed to the far edge of his care. But he is nearest the brokenhearted, kneeling to bind the wound — and a soul that brings its shattered heart to him finds him exactly where the lie swore he would not be.
Our instinct tells us that God is nearest to the strong and the thriving, and that brokenness puts distance between us and him — that the crushed in spirit are at the far edge of his care, perhaps too damaged to be close. The valley, where we are most broken, can therefore feel like the place God is furthest away. The psalmist insists the truth is exactly opposite: the Lord is near to the brokenhearted.
This is one of the dark valley's most surprising mercies. The very brokenness we are ashamed of and want to hide is what draws God close; he is not repelled by our shattered state but drawn to it, kneeling beside the crushed to bind their wounds. The ones who feel furthest from him are often the nearest. If your heart is broken, do not believe the lie that you have been pushed to the edge of God's attention. You are, by his own promise, exactly where he draws near.
- Do I believe my brokenness has pushed me from God?
- Can I trust that he is nearest, not furthest, in my crushing?
- Will I bring my broken heart to the God who draws near to bind it?
Lord, I assume my brokenness pushes you away, that the crushed are at the edge of your care. But you are near to the brokenhearted and save the crushed in spirit. I bring you my shattered heart; draw near, bind up my wounds, and heal me. Amen.