‘Single mothers like me are often under spiritual attack. But God is with us’

Seventeen years ago, if someone had told me that I would still be a single mother today, I would have laughed or cried.

I was 26, in love with my high school sweetheart, and convinced we would build a godly family together. We both grew up in Christian homes. We attended church, though not always consistently, and we believed we were destined for marriage. Yet beneath the surface, we were living outside of God’s will. The enemy always loves to attack the foundation before the house is even built. 

When I fell pregnant with my firstborn son, instead of standing beside me, his father walked away. Overnight, I was thrust into the unknown world of single motherhood. I knew nothing about being a single parent. But one thing I knew: abortion was not an option. The Holy Spirit was already stirring within me, protecting a life that God himself had ordained. 

All of my children have been born outside of marriage, and I say that with humility and repentance. I believe God designed intimacy for the covenant of marriage, and stepping outside of that is sin. Yet, even in my failure, I have witnessed the grace and mercy of a God who redeems. When we stumble, he does not discard us; he restores us.

My story is not one of perfection but of a perfect God who brings beauty from our broken choices. 

Loss that breaks and a God that heals

When my partner walked away, I prayed for restoration. I hoped he would come to his senses and return so we could raise our son together. For five years, I held onto that hope. Then I met another man who spoke the language of commitment and family. I soon fell pregnant again, with twin girls. But tragedy struck.

After an accident, we lost one of the babies. Doctors advised terminating the second twin, insisting survival was unlikely. We refused. We prayed. But five months later, our daughter’s heart also stopped. I had to go into labour and deliver her body, knowing there would be no cry. There are no words for that kind of pain. Only tears. 

Her father blamed me. Promises crumbled into silence. My son and I held a small memorial service with a pastor. I left the hospital deeply depressed, questioning God’s love and his justice. How could he allow such heartbreak? 

Yet even then, God was close to the broken-hearted. In my grief, he gave me a new song. Jeremiah 31:13 became my healing: “I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow.”

At 33, I fully surrendered my life to Jesus. It is never too late with God. He arrives not when we think we need him, but when he knows we are ready. 

Single mothers do not raise children alone, heaven backs us. 

God later blessed me with another Christian partner, but again, without prayer at the centre, we stumbled. When I became pregnant, he too left. It felt like a pattern, abandonment in pregnancy or after loss. I sought deliverance. I clung to God’s Word. I served in the church as a minister of song. And I witnessed God’s goodness as I raised two beautiful sons, thriving, not lacking, because God himself was Father in our home.

My dangerous hope

I never let go of the desire for marriage. I prayed specifically for the husband God destined for me. When my first love returned after eleven years, I wondered if he had changed. After counsel, I allowed space for reconciliation, especially for his son. Seeing them together was beautiful. Hope flickered again. 

But hope without wisdom can be dangerous. I let my guard down, believing promises built on emotion rather than the Holy Spirit’s leading. I fell into sin, believing his lie that he could not father more children. When I learned I was pregnant with my third son, he again disappeared, entirely uninvolved financially, emotionally, spiritually. 

This time, conviction was immediate. I knew I had sinned again by stepping outside God’s will, and I repented deeply. Yet I also experienced the profound truth of 2 Timothy 2:13: “If we are faithless, he remains faithful.” My failure did not cancel his faithfulness. God took my shame and turned it into purpose. My thirdborn son, now five years old, is a living testimony that God gives life, hope, and destiny, even when people abandon us. 

Today, I serve as an usher in my church. I am still in what some might call a wilderness season, but I know better: God is in this season with me. He has been with me every step of these 17 years and more. And through my three sons, he has transformed me, shaping me into the mother, woman, and disciple he always intended me to be. 

The Church’s forgotten ministry

Single mothers often feel invisible in the pews. We sometimes arrive late because we dress and shepherd our children alone. We cry in silence because our battles are fought in private. Yet we hold a powerful, often overlooked ministry. We are raising future fathers, leaders, prophets, and nation-shapers, often under spiritual attack, often with limited support. 

The Church, both local and global, has the opportunity to stand with us: not in pity, but in partnership. To uplift us with community. To support us with discipleship and practical resources. To celebrate the God who sustains us. To recognise that single mothers do not raise children alone, heaven backs us. 

Isaiah 61 promises beauty for ashes. I have seen that promise unfold, slowly but surely. What the enemy meant for evil, God is turning for good. My home is a place where prayer rises first before worry. My three sons are learning honour, hope, faith, and resilience by watching God carry their mother. 

Whether, like me, you are raising children because a partner walked away, or through widowhood, separation, or choices you now regret, hear this truth: You are not alone. You are seen. You are valued. You are building the next generation with God’s own hands guiding yours. 

We are single mothers, yes. But we are also son-makers, nation-builders, and daughters of Yahweh. And God delights to show his glory through us.