I remember the night my parents split up.
My older brother Caleb came into my bedroom and whispered that Mom and Dad were in the kitchen talking about divorce. We weren’t surprised.
Mom and Dad, both sincere believers, couldn’t keep going; and in retrospect, it’s easy to see why. Their marriage of 17 years had been through the death of two children, unemployment, medical issues, isolation from other believers and serious financial troubles, among other things. At some point, they had started surviving separately.
As my parents pulled apart, I felt like I was being pulled apart with them. Throughout my childhood, I had begged God to keep them together; but by age 13, I could no longer bear to live with the consequences of my answered prayers. So I waited in my bedroom with Caleb, wondering if it was finally over.
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