Why Mending What’s Broken Always Means Moving

By: Jennie Scott

I lay immobile on the operating table. Numb from the chest down, I could only watch as nurses draped the sterile field of my abdomen with blue cloth. They counted gauze strips and scalpels, forceps and scissors. They prepared my body for the birth of my child, a birth in which I would be a passive observer.

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He Is Close to the Broken Hearted

By: Sabrina Peters

I’m so glad “comforter” isn’t His title, but His nature. When darkness seems to hide his face. I rest on His unchanging grace. Here are some incredible verses to encourage you. Praying for all those suffering and struggling. May His grace be real, tangible and with you right now!

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