Day after day, You remain,

And slowly I begin to trust again.

I grow impatient,

You are steady and sure.

You are not afraid

Of my anger and accusations.

You do not run when it is hard.

You stay, You listen, You hear me.

You open my eyes,

And I see what I have always wanted.

Feel the courage to claim it and desire it.

You walk towards me.

And You hold my heart in pieces in Your hands.

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.

Prayer, true prayer, is the time of greatest intimacy in our day. Prayer is about relationship and the basis of any relationship is trust and vulnerability. 

As an adult child of divorce, I know my experience with all of these words- trust, peace, stillness, vulnerability- has been warped and twisted by my life experiences.

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.

I was inspired to re-read The Lord of the Rings specifically through the lens of this experience, especially since Frodo is also the “Ring-bearer.” I finished this project recently and I wanted to share my reflections with you here.

Jesus, Jesus, I am scared.

Rescue me.

You awake and calm the storm

around me.

But there is still a storm

inside me.

You look at me and ask:

Will you show me your hurt?

Will you let me embrace you?

Will you accept my healing grace?

So, when we pray to forgive those that have hurt us, whether it’s the first time we are forgiving them or the seventy-seventh time we have forgiven them for the same offense, let us ask the Lord for the forgiveness powerful enough to conquer sin and death in our loved one.

For the first time, Philothea looked at the tapestry he was creating. To her surprise, she saw it was a portrait of their family! There was Father on the left, tall and strong, with his arm around Mother on the right. In the middle in front of them both stood Philothea herself. She was surrounded by the arms of her Father and Mother, right where she belonged.

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.

If you find that you do not fit under the category of a secure attachment, know that hope abounds — attachment styles can change! Through engaging in nurturing relationships with close friends or a spouse — and especially our Lord — you can become more secure in your attachments.

This poem is the fruit of that time of prayer in which God showed me how many voices I allow to control my life, my thoughts and perceptions of reality. And even more so, He showed me how I have a real choice as to what voice I choose to follow in my life.

To give you a picture of what [childhood emotional neglect] might look like in real life, here’s my own CEN story: My mom (your mother is usually your primary attachment figure) has had schizoaffective disorder since I was about six years old. She was too deep in her own mental and emotional roller-coaster to be a stable presence.

What I am about to write, I honestly thought I would go to my grave with, and never discuss it out loud. It is truly a grace that I have the courage to say what I am about to say. I want to share how I went from being a child of fear to a child of God.

 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?

Grieving our lost identities in childhood and in our everyday lives can help us heal. At the same time if we recognize our need for security in our obsessive search for self, and realize that God is the only true source of security and steadfast love, then we will know who we are.

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.