My father had a heart attack today. Although I am finding this situation somewhat difficult to bear, I am still amazed to see the hand of God at work.
I learned recently that my mother had spent the whole of last weekend in bed, grieved to the very core over how she had handled the past several months. She began to reach out to my brother and me soon thereafter. It is no coincidence that our beautiful, three hour conversation took place last evening. And, I am sure, my father's heart attack was no coincidence either. You see, God is succeeding in doing what none of us could: He is mending the broken lives of my loved ones and is building us back up as a family.
Tonight, my brother was able to see my family for the first time a very long time. My parents finally met my sister-in-law. Other relationships have been mended.
I saw a sign earlier this afternoon as I was driving the long stretch of road toward my hometown. It simply read: "Jesus, healer of broken hearts."
How true that is, indeed.