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Several years ago, as I began recovering from a time of fiery testing and trials which included getting a divorce from my first, abusive alcoholic husband, I began a new life as a single mother of two boys, ages six and two years old. My divorce set me free from about six years of daily abuse, yet my heart and life were broken and needed much healing. My two boys were also devastated. Yet, I knew God was with me and He had forgiven me for my part in the failed marriage. However, I was overwhelmed with the responsibility of raising two sons and doing it on a small income. Thanks to God I received a small amount of alimony for a year (to give me time to find work) and child support.
My parents took my family of three into their home and helped us get on our feet. I went to work in my parent’s office supply store to help provide for my family. I worked five days a week from 8 a. m. until 5 p. m. starting out as a sales clerk. Eventually, I rented a two bedroom, low-income apartment in Sandpoint. The boys and I moved into the apartment and were just beginning our new life.
My two sons were still grieving the loss of not having their father around. They were too young to understand what was going on. Though their father had visiting privileges every other weekend, I knew we could never go back into that situation if we wanted a chance of having a normal life. My ex-husband chose his alcohol over his family and he became angry and abusive when he drank.
For the first few weeks in our new apartment, I wondered what was in store for our family. Though God and my parents were with us, I wondered if I would be able to raise my sons properly. Our apartment was close to the school and my work place. The six year-old began school and the two year old attended a day care center owned by two wonderful Christian people.
Each evening, after gathering up the boys, fixing dinner, and spending time with them before bedtime, I would tuck the boys into their twin beds. Later I would go upstairs and check to see if they were sleeping. Several times, as I listened at their bedroom door, I heard my sons' small voices crying out, “I want my daddy. I want my daddy!” It brought tears to my eyes and I went into the room to comfort them.
One night, after a few weeks of being in the apartment, I still heard my sons crying out for their father. It broke my heart but I knew I couldn’t heal their hearts so I prayed, “Lord, I’m only one person. I’ll do what I can but please fill in the holes.”
God heard my prayer that night—and a lot of others along the way—and answered them. The Lord provided for us during those years. He made it possible for me to get grants and attend college. Both of my sons also finished school, including four years of college, with “A” averages, even taking accelerated classes. One son got a degree in Business and the other in Chemistry. My parents helped pay for their college and they received money from other sources to help with their education as well. Though they have small amounts of educational loans to pay back, the Lord provided—through family and employers—a large portion of the funding.
Eight years after my divorce, I met my present husband, Steve in the apartment complex. Steve and I were friends, though we both promised ourselves we would never get married again. However, God had different plans. He used us, by ministering His word to one another, to help heal our wounds from past relationships. After three years of being friends, Steve visiting our family in the evenings, and getting to know one another, Steve and I got married.
Though we had some rocky times adjusting and trying to bring the four of us into agreement and work as a family, I believe God timed my remarriage perfectly. Not only were Steve and I healing up, so were the boys. In fact my oldest son was getting to be bigger and taller than me—and pretty confident. One day, at bedtime, he told me he didn’t have to go to bed, and I couldn’t make him because he was bigger than I was. I quickly let him know that, though he was bigger, I was still mom—the God-appointed authority in the house—and he’d better obey me. Thankfully he did.
Steve is a medically-retired disabled veteran—and he is much bigger than the boys or me. He usually stayed home during the day so he kept an eye on the boys after school, making sure they did their homework. We also gave the boys each some chores to do and paid them an allowance. They were getting bigger, needing some money for spending, and needing to learn some responsibilities in helping around the house. Prior to this, I only had a small amount of time with them in the evenings after work and I didn’t want to have to keep nagging at them about cleaning their room and doing chores. Therefore, they never had to keep their rooms consistently clean and do other household chores. Consequently, the boys were a little angry about the changes at first. Later they came back and thanked us for teaching them responsibility.
Now my two sons are in their 30s, married, and have children of their own. Both families are purchasing homes. Both wives have professional careers and are also contributing to their family’s well-being. Both families are providing for their own needs and seem to be happy and healthy.
Steve and I have been married nearly 26 years and we have been healed from many past hurts. God has definitely answered my prayer and “filled in the holes.” He has done more miraculous work in our lives than I ever thought possible. We are truly blessed!
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