Dear Single Mom

I’m a lot like you. My life as a single mom defines most of who I am today. I react in life out of my experiences from the 19 years I was a single mom. Even though I’m remarried with grown kids, I still think a lot like a single mom.

When I say, “I think like a single mom”, and react in life a certain way, I mean the survival skills I gained, and the “I’ll do it myself”, and “don’t tell anyone my struggles” way of life are a part of me. I still operate out of the life skills (good and bad) I gained through those hard years; some of the hardest years of my life, but also some of the best ones.

I remember that day 27 years ago, right around this time of year. He was leaving me. Nine years of marriage and two kids later, just like that. That day I went from a stay-at-home mom to a frantic, young woman in desperate need of a job, babysitter and an eternal supply of sanity and healing for a broken heart.

I remember the first time I grabbed a cheap spiral notebook out of my nightstand to journal in. I was like someone addicted to drugs and couldn’t get to that notebook fast enough. I had to get it all out of me and onto the fresh paper before I would bust and spew everywhere.

That’s when the writing started. Of course, no one saw it but me and God. I’d fill page after page of the depths of my despair mixed with page after page of God’s intervening love and power. I’d fill up a notebook and start another one. I had to date them to keep up. Whenever I’d fill up a notebook and didn’t have a fresh, new one on hand, I’d grab whatever paper I could find and start writing. It was journal or bust for me.

I wrote about everything. I ranted. I screamed. I cried. I also wrote about God’s intervening miracles as He responded to my desperate cries. I was brutally honest with Him in my journals. I sought after Him like a thirsty woman lost in the desert with no water or food.  Mercy! I had to burn half of those journals. They would’ve locked me up in a padded room if anyone had found them.

Over time my journal writing changed. My heart changed and a passion for writing oozed onto the pages of those one dollar notebooks. An idea, a vision for ministry for single moms, a story here and there. I began to see my life with God and the directional “markers” he placed along the way.

Then a book, a song and now three more books in the works. All because of the struggles and hardship I experienced.

Really it’s all because of how God showed Himself real and intimate. Not because I’m someone special, but because He hears and answers prayers.

So here I am, writing to you now. I still journal in those $1 notebooks, but it’s mostly about the love of my life, Jesus Christ. Okay, sometimes I still rant, but He’s the main character in all my stories.

He wants to be the Main Character in your story. What is your story? I really want to know. Maybe we can share our stories here.

All my losses, hardships and heartaches will not be wasted. Maybe I can share a thing or two (not that I’m any wiser or smarter) and offer comfort, compassion and encouragement for what you might be going through. 

My life is now more defined by 2 Corinthians 1:3-5, “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ."

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Still following those markers,

Terri