On March 11, 2010, my husband’s boss called Alex into his office and asked, “So is your wife going to stay home after the baby’s born?” Alex replied that I had to go back to work because we couldn’t afford the health insurance otherwise. His boss then ever so casually offered him a raise that would cover it. That very night I went into labor knowing that God had made a way for me to be a stay-at-home mom after all. God had seen that dream deep down inside me and fulfilled it before I even had the chance to doubt that He could or would. I was reminded of John 10:10, where Jesus says, “I have come that they might have life and have it abundantly,” (which happened to be the school motto for my alma mater). Suddenly, I had a beautiful new home, a perfect new baby and a sweet picture of abundance unfolding before my eyes.
However, the adjustment of becoming a stay-at-home mom was not an easy one, by any means. Any first time parent will face challenges. Add into that a very lonely, isolated young mother without any local family, stuck in her house all day, already suffering from depression before, during and after a difficult pregnancy. The first part of John 10:10 lurked in the shadows of my mind: “The enemy comes to steal and kill and destroy.” As glad as I was to be able to stay home and raise my daughter, I became more withdrawn, unwilling and seemingly unable to reach out, even by phone, to really connect with others around me. The enemy succeeded at stealing my joy, my relationships, my hope. I didn’t think I had the strength to fight him.
Nearly a year later, God delivered me from 18 years of depression. Since that time, I have been slowly emerging from the cocoon I had constructed to protect myself. But I didn’t have a consistent enough reason to really get out of my comfort zone. I didn’t think I had anything to offer anyone. I didn’t think it mattered that I just kept to myself. I didn’t think anyone would miss a wall flower like me. So I kept everyone at arm’s length. Facebook and caller ID made that easy. I didn’t have to talk to anyone at all. I even had a “phone phobia” speech prepared—Don’t call me because I won’t answer!
I was hiding. Don’t we all? Because of the fear of rejection. Fear of failure. Just plain fear. But this past April, my friend Melanie decided to pay no heed to my phone phobia and called me anyway. Something in me said, “You better answer it.” So I did. We talked for an hour. And we’ve talked for many hours since then. Talking to her was just the beginning of many phone calls I’ve had recently. I finally have a reason to reach out. I have finally found something of great worth within me. God’s giving me a reason to answer the phone.
The Art of Choosing True Life 