After my breakup, I didn’t want to hear “It’s God’s plan.” I was angry. Rejected. Alone. I pushed everyone away and almost left church completely. I couldn’t stand the platitudes, the forced smiles, the well-meaning advice that felt like salt in a wound.
But one verse kept haunting me.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Psalm 34:18.
I didn’t want it to be true. I didn’t want to believe God was near when I felt abandoned. But the verse echoed in my mind, showing up in devotionals, sermons, even on a stranger’s social media post. It was like God was gently knocking, waiting for me to open the door.
One night, I broke.
I sat on my bedroom floor, surrounded by tissues and unanswered texts, and whispered, “If You’re really close to the brokenhearted, prove it. Because I don’t feel You.”
And He did.
Not with fireworks or instant healing, but with quiet comfort. A peace I couldn’t explain settled over me. I felt seen—not as someone who needed to “get over it,” but as someone deeply loved in the middle of the pain.
I started showing up to church again. Not because I felt whole, but because I needed hope. I let a few trusted friends back in. I cried during worship, journaled my prayers, and slowly began to heal.
God didn’t erase the heartbreak. He met me in it. He reminded me that my worth wasn’t tied to someone else’s decision to stay or leave. He showed me that rejection doesn’t define me—redemption does.
Months passed. The pain softened. I found joy again, not because everything was perfect, but because I knew I wasn’t walking alone. I began mentoring young women, sharing my story, reminding them that healing is possible and that God truly is close to the brokenhearted.
Today, I still carry the memory of that heartbreak—but it no longer controls me. It’s a chapter, not the whole story.
God healed my broken heart. And now, I live to tell others: He can heal yours too.
