Every Sunday,
an enthusiastic greeter at Colby Wesleyan Church met me at the door: “Good
morning, Janis! How are you today?”
“Hanging in
there” was my standard grim reply.
Single
parenting was simply too hard for me.
Constantly overwhelmed and always lonely, I trudged through the routine
of each weekday: taking my daughter and
son to school, teaching at Colby Community College, picking them up after work from
day care (until they were old enough to go home alone), and straightening out
squabbles between the two in the evening.
Yes, how I loved my kids with everything I had, but how exhausting solo
parenting proved to be.
What I see
now from a perspective of years is that I was—and had been—in the throes of
significant depression for a long time. Eventually I was prescribed antidepressant
medication. It helped, but joy still
eluded me.
During those
single parenting years, I clung fiercely to Jesus. He kept me going day after day, week after
week, month after month, and year after year.
Sunday mornings were my oasis of fellowship, Bible study, and
worship. I had a few friends. I bragged on my children’s successes and agonized
over their problems. I mostly enjoyed my
job.
I served in
various church capacities, participated in worship, and maintained personal
devotional times for the most part. God grew
me. He was faithful in every way. Yet eventually, out of personal pain, I started
turning my back on Him. Instead of
clinging to Him, I doubted His goodness.
I alienated my teenage son and college-age daughter through my ill-advised
second marriage. Still, Jesus loved me
even when I did not love Him.
It wasn’t
until I moved to Whidbey Island, Washington in 2008 that joy began to invade my
life. Becoming my mother’s primary
caregiver was a cakewalk compared to what I had lived through in recent years. My
brother and I shared responsibilities, we lived in a gorgeous setting, and the
three of us got along well.
I can’t
really say how joy took over. I joined a
church choir, and the music reached my inner being even while my mind still
fought and struggled with gospel truths.
The pastor of Whidbey Presbyterian Church handed me a lifeline in the
form of a Stephen Minister, who mentored me and became a close friend. Choir
kept me going to church faithfully, and the twenty-mile scenic drive to get there
wowed me with its natural beauty. In
multiple small ways, God brought emotional healing into my life, and with it,
joy.
God’s love
conquered my heart’s defenses. His
faithfulness rebuilt my trust in Him.
His creation proclaimed His glory. My Savior’s redeeming love, goodness, holiness,
and faithfulness overcame my grumbling and replaced it with gratitude. God IS good, and I can join the psalmist in
exclaiming, “Shout praises to the LORD!
He is good to us, and his love never fails” (Psalm 107:1, CEV).
