God rewrites our broken chapters with hands that know how to mend hearts. The parts of our stories that feel too heavy to revisit. The moments we thought would be our undoing. He enters into those places not with judgment, but with mercy. Not with condemnation, but with comfort. God does not shy away from our mess. He steps into it with love and begins the work of making all things new.
Psalm 147:3 says, “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” He does not simply patch us up. He binds us. He sits with us in the pain. He doesn’t ignore the sorrow or rush us past the ache. He honors it. He acknowledges it. And then He begins to gently restore what was lost. Some chapters are too painful for us to even speak of. The betrayal. The silence. The prayers that felt unanswered. The hope that slowly faded. But even in that silence, God was writing. Even when you could not see it, His pen never stopped moving. Isaiah 43:19 says, “See, I am doing a new thing. Now it springs up. Do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” The wilderness is not the end. The wasteland is not the last word. God makes a way even there.
When we look back at what we have walked through, it can feel like a different life. A version of ourselves we no longer recognize. But that version of us matters deeply to God. He remembers every cry. Every unanswered text. Every night we laid awake wondering if we were alone. Psalm 56:8 tells us, “You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.” None of it is forgotten.
We serve a God who does not discard our pain. He redeems it. The very places where we feel the most fragile are often the places He chooses to reveal His strength. Second Corinthians 12:9 says, “My grace is sufficient for you. For my power is made perfect in weakness.” Your weakness is not a disqualification. It is an invitation for His power to be made visible.
There are moments when we feel like the story is over. When doors close. When people leave. When dreams die. But endings in God’s hands are often just disguised beginnings. He has a way of turning graves into gardens. John 11 shows us this when Jesus raises Lazarus. What looked like the end was only the setup for resurrection. What looks final to us is never final to Him.
You may not see the full picture yet. You may still be in the middle of the sentence. But God is not finished writing. He is not just the God of beginnings. He is the God of redemption. He takes what we thought was beyond repair and brings new life. He takes the chapters we tried to skip and uses them to minister to others.
Romans 8:28 promises us this: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.” All things. Not just the pretty parts. Not just the victories. But the losses. The confusion. The heartbreak. All of it can be worked into something good.
This does not mean everything will feel good. It does not mean we will always understand. But it does mean we are never abandoned. God is not afraid of our brokenness. He came for it. Jesus came for the sick. For the sinners. For the ones who knew they could not fix themselves. That is the beauty of grace. It meets us where we are, but it never leaves us there.
When we surrender our stories to God, He begins to do what only He can. He rewrites not by ignoring the pain, but by healing it. He doesn’t erase the past. He transforms it. He turns scars into signs of survival. Wounds into places where His love shines through. What the enemy meant for harm, God uses for good.
Genesis 50:20 says, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.” Your story is not just about you. It is a vessel for others to see the power of God at work. There is purpose in your pain. There is hope rising from your hurt.
Let Him have the pen. Let Him write the next chapter. Even if you do not know how the story will unfold. Even if all you have right now is the next small step. Trust the Author. Trust the One who knows the end from the beginning. Isaiah 46:10 says, “I make known the end from the beginning. From ancient times, what is still to come. I say, ‘My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please.’”
You are not too far gone. Your story is not too messy. Your heart is not too shattered. He is not overwhelmed by what you carry. He is not disappointed by your doubts. He is not distant from your grief. He is Emmanuel. God with us. Right here. Right now.
So breathe. Let go of the lie that says it is too late. Let go of the shame that says you should be further along by now. Rest in the truth that God is patient. He is not rushing your healing. He is walking with you in it. Every tear. Every prayer. Every step.
Your story may look different than you imagined. The road may be harder. But the beauty that comes from surrender is unmatched. When He rewrites, He restores. When He restores, He renews. And when He renews, you will stand not just as someone who survived, but as someone who reflects His glory.
Let Him finish what He started. Philippians 1:6 says, “Being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” He is not done. The pen is still moving.
- Ellie Mont