It is fitting that I should write this story on Valentines Day, for this is a story of two broken hearts; healed and mended, then melted together as one–in an instant. This is a story of True Love.
Anyone who comes from a broken family understands the pain of divorce. I was twenty-seven years old when my parents divorced, and while some people think that a person shouldn’t be “affected” by such things once they are adults, I can assure you–I WAS! I was shocked when my parents divorced. I had no forewarning in the natural. But, on the day that my dad told my mom that he was moving out, I felt a great anxiety in my spirit–so great that I told my husband, “Something is terribly wrong in California. I want to phone home.” Considering the fact that I was three thousand miles away, on a remote island in Northern Canada, when I felt this anxiety, you can appreciate that I was deeply affected.
Pain and confusion became constant companions as I tried to “understand” what had happened–what right did he have to leave my mother? Whose standard was he using to exercise his right to leave her? What had she done...
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