...if you’re also in this “secret club” of adult children of divorce, I’m sharing my story for you. In November 2024, I attended Life-Giving Wounds, a retreat meant for adult children of divorce and separation co-sponsored by the Archdiocese of Denver. At that retreat, for the first time, I heard stories like mine. Like ours. I cried to know that someone understood me in a way I hadn’t even understood myself.

...although Les Miserables seems at first like it would be a tragedy, it becomes a comedy: ending with marriage and heaven. Cosette’s parents’ separation cast her into a terrible living situation. Her life’s journey is a long slog, wrought with many uncomfortable trials and having to make due without a real home for a very long time. In the end, with her brand new husband and discovering just how deeply she has been loved by Jean Valjean, she once again might feel as though someone were saying to her, “Little girl, you are the queen of France.”

Little by little, praying to the Sacred Heart of Jesus has become the center of my prayer life. This Heart has become my ultimate refuge. The true “abandoned heart” is that of Christ—a heart that is both entirely surrendered to the divine will and filled with a love so intense that it cannot be contained within itself. An abandoned heart is a heart that gives itself. A heart that listens.

For many adult children of divorce or separation, personal wounds can feel heavy, confusing, and isolating. We may spend much of our lives trying to understand or heal our own pain. Yet this week, we are invited to turn our gaze toward Jesus, to encounter Him in His wounds and discover there the source of our healing.

But guilt, properly understood, is not the denigration of ourselves, but is instead an acknowledgment of our extraordinary, ultimately incalculable, value to God. Our acknowledgment of our failure is our acknowledgment of the vast chasm between what we have made of ourselves, and what we know God has made us to be.

For many adult children of divorce or separation, experiences of loss, grief, or brokenness can feel overwhelming—like something has died within us. These wounds can tempt us to believe that hope is gone or that healing is out of reach. Yet the Gospel proclaims a powerful truth: Jesus has authority even over death itself. He calls each of us—personally and lovingly—out of the tomb and back into life.

…the evil one thinks that he can tear us down by stealing from us. But he does not know the hidden counsels of God. When the evil one steals a coat from us, we may end up going on a mission to give our cloaks as well.

For many adult children of divorce or separation, it can be easy to focus on our limitations, brokenness, or past hurts. These wounds can cloud our vision—making it difficult to see ourselves as God sees us: known, loved, and chosen. Yet the Gospel reminds us that Jesus is the Divine Physician who longs to restore our sight and heal the deeper vision of our hearts.

For many adult children of divorce or separation, it can be difficult to let others, and even God, into the wounded places of our hearts. Like the Samaritan woman, we may carry shame, isolation, or walls built to protect ourselves. Yet Jesus meets us precisely there, thirsting for our faith and longing to offer us living water.

In this reflection, Fr. Carl meditates on the intimacy of God in the second creation account. He connects this powerful image to the Gospel of Jesus’ temptation in the desert, reminding us that being beloved does not mean being free from struggle.

In this Ash Wednesday reflection, Fr. Carl invites adult children of divorce and separation to enter Lent through true interior conversion. “Rend your hearts, not your garments.” While we receive ashes and practice external disciplines, the deeper work God desires is the healing of our hearts.

I had a priest friend of mine walk up to me and say “I’ve been praying for your future husband!” Immediately, I started to tear up. “Don’t do that. You are wasting your time,” I snapped. The sentiment meant so much to me, but I was struggling in that moment with my desire. The path to get there has not been easy, making it feel utterly impossible at times.

At this Christ-moment, as we wait for the infant Jesus to be born in the mangers of our hearts, let the love of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit fill you—LET THE JOY RISE!  Put aside whatever inflicts you; LET THE JOY RISE!  We are the Body of Christ! Praise the Lord!  LET THE JOY RISE AND OVERFLOW!

What does this mean for the adult child of divorce? Jesus’ human parents...certainly did not experience the pain of divorce...If He experiences all that we experience, how can He truly know my pain? I think the answer lies in chapter 40 of Isaiah: in the all-knowing otherness of Almighty God. He who created the universe and foresaw everything...also created and foresaw me.

In this third Sunday of Advent, Gaudate Sunday, we are invited to welcome the joy of belonging to God’s family. While the wounds in our family may be a source of division and sadness, Jesus comes to bring us into a new family, the family of God. We are invited to celebrate the coming of Jesus and the joy He offers to each of us, the joy of being beloved sons and daughters.

The flood of emotions—the fear, the anxiety, the distrust, the silence, the ache of not belonging, everything—can feel like reason enough to build walls around our hearts. These walls may be built of self-protection, hardness, or numbness. But, these walls do more than just shield us from those who may have caused harm. They harden our hearts and shut out our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, who wants nothing more than to enter in, heal, and be one with us.

As our hearts were warped by the tragedy of divorce, and the wounds that compounded afterwards, Fr. Alfredo’s message reminds us that the Word can come into our hearts and provide new life.

Every time I would go back to that house...I would silently walk into my old closet. I would spend some time there staring at all of my clothes which seemed to shrink as the years passed. ...At some point, however, it became glaringly obvious that I would never fit into those clothes again. My closet became a time capsule, a glimpse into a life that I once lived.

The Seven Sorrows Rosary is a chaplet prayer that commemorates the seven sorrows of Mary. Each sequence on a seven sorrows rosary has seven beads instead of ten, and there are seven sets of beads... Throughout the devotion we meditate on the maternal sorrows and sufferings of Mary that she lived through as the Mother of God. This is a devotion that I would highly recommend as an ACOD.

Eventually, I found myself at a Blessed is She retreat in which Father John Burns shared a stunning Scriptural message of our Heavenly Father’s love…. Receiving the words he spoke proved to be a pivotal moment in my life.