The binder of wounds

The very next verse of this psalm says He counts the stars and calls them all by name — and the psalmist put the two lines together on purpose. The God of galactic inventory is also the God found bent over a broken heart, binding it up. The scale of His power is the guarantee of His gentleness, not the alternative to it.

Binding wounds is slow, close work. It cannot be done at arm’s length or in a hurry; it means touching the hurt place carefully, wrapping it, returning to change the dressing. That is the verb chosen for how God treats broken hearts — not a pronouncement of instant repair from a distance, but the patient nursing of something He intends to fully heal.

Perhaps you are carrying a break this morning — fresh, or one of the old ones that still aches in certain weather. The verse asks only that you stop hiding it from the Physician. Wounds get bound when they are shown. He has done this work before, and His hands are known for it.