I searched my heart for months and I accepted how I felt about this situation and made a decision. I realized that if I did not take care of them my guilt would have been much worse than I had experienced in my life. My father remained at his home with home health care and I oversaw his care. My mother eventually spent the last nine months of her life at home with my husband and me.

About one year ago something very traumatic happened... My precious, amazing mom passed away... My world shattered the day that I lost her. Watching her suffer for months and being powerless to help her made me feel like I could relate in some way to our Blessed Mother, to the agony and helpless that she must have felt in watching her beloved Son die.

Unlike the innocent childhood rites of passage that bring about a sense of pride and accomplishment, children who live through their parents’ divorce often experience an abrupt passage from childhood to premature adulthood. The hard and jagged rock of a parents’ divorce deeply and profoundly impacts a child even beyond what others see or notice.

During his homily, a local priest referred to Christmas as “the whisper of a hope that never dies.” This struck me to the point of tears. These peaceful, consoling words I needed to hear this season came at the most unexpected time—and it has been a very, very long time since I have felt that sort of consolation flood my heart.

When my future husband Raphy asked me if I would like to enter into a courtship with him to discern marriage together, I was excited but also scared because I didn’t know what this journey would entail. I also didn’t know if I would be truly ready to say “yes” to marriage. I desired to be married, but would I be able to do my part in it?

"The Soul of Shame: Retelling the Stories We Believe About Ourselves," by Curt Thompson, has been an important part of my healing journey. I picked up the book on the recommendation of a friend and a deep desire to dig into the pain of shame that was touching every part of my life. My heart was sore. I was on the path of recovery from habitual sin that had infiltrated my life for half a decade.

Looking for answers, I’ve read many self-help books, listened to speakers, and talked to professionals, friends, and family members, but none have offered solutions. | En mi búsqueda de respuestas, he leído libros de autoayuda, he escuchado a charlistas, también he hablado con profesionales, amistades y familiares, pero ninguna de sus sugerencias me ayudaron.

 Ironically, “why” is the one question the Lord has never promised to answer. Even his own mother asks him why and he doesn’t answer her. Well, he does answer her, but not in the way she was probably hoping for. He says, “How is it that you sought me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” He responds to her question with a question. What could Jesus possibly be teaching us?

I have comforted myself before in prayer and allowed Jesus to touch my wounds by wrapping my arms around myself as if they were his. I imagine him holding me while I rest my head on his chest. Today I lift my hands like a child and later cradle my cheek in the palm of my hand imagining it is his cheek against mine. It seems silly, but alone in my room I feel comforted.

...my version of “forgiveness” was simple: never let anyone get close enough to hurt me. But the Lord broke through my defenses and gradually brought me back to Him through a reversion to the Catholic faith. ... When I first attended the Life-Giving Wounds retreat, my heart overflowed with awe and gratitude as I heard the truth about God’s intention for the love between mother, father, and child.

While the four of us were dining, Bill said to Teje something like the following: “Teje, haven’t we discussed this before that you keep putting too much garlic on the pizza? A little garlic is fine, but this is way too much, and I don’t understand why you keep doing that!”

Pornography also gave me the illusion of control. I couldn't get my parents back together. I couldn't end the chaos. But with pornography I could dictate the outcomes. In my eyes the fantasy around pornographic depictions could turn powerlessness and futility into efficacy.

"Work is for man, not man for work. Everyone should be able to draw from work the means of providing for his life and that of his family, and of serving the human community” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, no. 2428)

I share this tale because I know many of us long to hear apologies from one or both of our parents for their own roles in the divorce. I just encourage you to pray for apologies and a sense of remorse not for your own sake but for theirs. If we forgive them in our hearts, we can find healing without their apologies.

When my father left the family during my late teens, I fell right back into infancy: I was unable to call my father “dad” because “dad” was no longer present. And that translated to my relationship with God: I did not call God “Father” because it seemed that God left me, too.

But listening to Fr. Mike’s podcast over the past year, my perspective on what it means to come from a ‘good’ family has been completely changed. I have been immersed in a story about a family that is immensely broken and immensely beautiful: the family of God. 

Know that you are not alone, and that this is not the end, though it may feel like it. Know that even if I don't know you, that I am with you in this journey, that I care about you and so do many others who are like us. Know that you deserved a family who would stick together and that you deserve to grieve that you lost that forever.

I spent years of my young life praying my parents would divorce, as it seemed like the only option for any peace in my family. I had witnessed my Dad hurt my Mom and attempt to kill her several times. The last time, he tried to kill us both. I absolutely believe our Guardian Angels protected us! Eventually Dad became seriously ill and the violence stopped.

This year, my husband went on a Life-Giving Wounds retreat, and I am now forever grateful to this ministry. My husband left with a lack of understanding of his pain and his story, but returned to me and our family with the gifts of knowledge of himself and his pain, and a deeper understanding of his story. He was understood on the level of the heart that only something like this ministry can give. He came home with a correction of “oh, it doesn’t affect me” to “it affects everything in my life.”

I was at a crossroads. My heart ached for this love to be true, I wanted so badly to believe it was for me, but I was so scared what that might mean. How silly! My life had changed 180 degrees over those 7 years, so what the heck was I waiting for? What was I scared of? I was scared that God would change his mind, like I thought love did when my parents divorced when I just a baby...