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From Heartbreak To Hope
Contributed by Kory Labbe on Dec 5, 2025 (message contributor)
Summary: Heartbreak may feel like the end of your story, but Jesus specializes in meeting us in the ashes and raising hope from the wreckage. This passage shows us how He moves toward us when we feel most lost.
From Heartbreak to Hope
(Expect the Unexpected • Week 2)
INTRODUCTION — Heartbreak Is Real For All Of Us
Last week we talked about how God often shows up in life’s interruptions — how the mundane can become miraculous.
This week, we’re not talking about minor interruptions…
but those moments that break your heart in half.
The moments you didn’t see coming.
The moments that leave you speechless.
The moments that feel like something died inside you.
And maybe for some of you today:
• It wasn’t one big heartbreak…
• It’s been the slow, quiet kind.
• The kind you hide well.
You smile… but you’re tired.
You work… but you’re empty.
You pray… but you’re hurting.
You keep moving… but you’re carrying something heavy.
The series is called Expect the Unexpected, and today I want you hear this:
You can expect Jesus to meet you in your heartbreak
and lead you toward hope.
He doesn’t avoid your pain.
He moves toward it.
And nowhere is that clearer than in Luke 7.
SETTING THE SCENE — The Worst Day Of Her Life
Last week, I briefly mentioned this moment in Scripture — this heartbreaking encounter where Jesus meets a widow on what had to be the worst day of her life. We touched it for just a moment, but today we’re going to slow down and sit with this story, because it reveals the heart of God in a way few passages do.
Jesus is approaching the small village of Nain, and as He nears the gate, He walks straight into a funeral procession. Not a quiet gathering, not a handful of mourners — an entire village walking together in sorrow.
And at the center is a woman whose world has come completely undone:
• She has already buried her husband.
• And now she is burying her only son.
In the first century, this wasn’t only emotional devastation — it was survival-level devastation.
A widow without a husband or a grown son had:
• no income
• no legal protection
• no inheritance
• no social standing
• no ability to own property
• and no safety net in society
There was no government assistance.
No social work support.
No programs or protections.
A woman in her situation often had only one option left:
to beg… or to hope a distant relative might take her in out of pity.
So she’s not just grieving a child…
She’s grieving her future.
Her security.
Her identity.
Her place in the world.
This wasn’t just heartbreak — it was complete collapse.
And it’s right into that raw, exposed pain — into a life that feels finished — that Jesus steps toward her.
Read Luke 7:11-13
1) Jesus Sees You In Your Heartbreak
“When the Lord saw her…”
This is so important.
She didn’t see Jesus.
She wasn’t praying.
She wasn’t asking for healing.
She wasn’t begging for mercy.
She was just trying to survive grief.
But Jesus saw her.
When nobody else noticed her pain… He did.
When others saw a funeral, Jesus saw a broken heart.
When people saw a crowd, Jesus saw a daughter.
Listen to what Isaiah says about Jesus, the Messiah: In Isaiah 61
“The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is upon me, for the LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to comfort the brokenhearted and to proclaim that captives will be released and prisoners will be freed. (Isaiah 61:1)
This is who Jesus is.
This is what Jesus does.
He sees:
• The hurt you don’t talk about
• The fears you hide
• The shame you carry
• The grief you push down
• The exhaustion you don’t want to admit
Your heartbreak has never been invisible to God.
Even if you feel unseen…
He sees you.
Modern Illustration:
You know, this reminds me of a real story that made national news. In 2005, a young father named Kevin Berthia climbed over the railing on the Golden Gate Bridge. He was overwhelmed, hopeless, and convinced no one cared. He later said he felt totally invisible—like the world wouldn’t even notice if he disappeared.
But a highway patrol officer named Kevin Briggs saw him.
Briggs didn’t shout orders or try to grab him.
He didn’t minimize the situation.
He didn’t say, “Come on man, get it together.”
He simply walked up slowly and said, “I’m here. Talk to me.”
For almost an hour, Officer Briggs stood there listening—just listening. No judgment. No lectures. No pressure. Just presence.
Eventually, Kevin Berthia climbed back over the railing.
Today he travels the country telling his story, and he says:
“I didn’t need someone to pull me up. I needed someone to see me. ”
And church—
that’s exactly what Jesus does.
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