Wholly Healing

A Reflection on the Psalm for Sunday, February 9th, 2025:
Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

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Psalm 138
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R.​ Before the Angels I sing your praise, O Lord.

I give you thanks, O Lord, with my whole heart; before the Angels I sing your praise; I bow down toward your holy temple, and give thanks to your name for your steadfast love and your faithfulness. 

R.​ Before the Angels I sing your praise, O Lord.

For you have exalted your name and your word above everything. On the day I called, you answered me, you increased my strength of soul. 

R.​ Before the Angels I sing your praise, O Lord.

All the kings of the earth shall praise you, O Lord, for they have heard the words of your mouth. They shall sing of the ways of the Lord, for great is the glory of the Lord. 

R.​ Before the Angels I sing your praise, O Lord.

You stretch out your hand, and your right hand delivers me. The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me; your steadfast love, O Lord, endures forever. Do not forsake the work of your hands. 

R.​ Before the Angels I sing your praise, O Lord.

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

“I give you thanks, O Lord, with my whole heart” (emphasis added).

​As I meditate on this psalm, these words call me to attention. It is a resounding reminder that because of all God’s goodness in my life and His steadfast love for me, He asks me to do everything I do with my whole heart. I should give thanks with my whole heart, praise with my whole heart; I should love with my whole heart. 

With this, I sit in contemplation of my heart. It appears to me as a collection of pieces, broken and bruised, which God is carefully picking up and gently returning to their rightful place at the centre of my being. Protecting myself feels like the most important thing when my heart is tender; to put it wholly out there feels like a huge risk, like going back out into the sun when my skin is already red, hot, and blistered from yesterday’s burn.  

I start to feel despair that I can’t do it. I can’t do it because my heart’s not whole. And He says “no, no, my daughter – your heart doesn’t have to be whole – I just want you to trust that, with my help, you can just give thanks, praise, and love with all of it, all the pieces. And I will make it whole again.” Your right hand delivers me, O Lord.

What does His help look like? It looks like trusting my worth. It looks like trusting my instincts. It looks like treasuring myself and others like He treasures us and making sound decisions based on good boundaries and true love for others. He is the sunscreen on my skin, the armour I wear so that my heart is free to lead me where He wants me to go. 

Truly, there is no part of my heart that doesn’t belong to God, no matter how hard I try to keep a part or parts for myself for fear of pain. I can stay in that place of “safety,” living in pieces, or I can let His Spirit bring me to healing so that I fully belong to Him again. Do not forsake the work of Your hands, O Lord. Amen.




​Lindsay Elford

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