Flourishing Solo: How a Single Mom Turned Survival Into Success

By Jacqueline Spears

My daughter AshelleeToweh, Myself and my son Pastor Addison Spears

To the single parent reading this: I see you.

In a world that often prioritizes neatly packaged families, the journey of a single parent can feel both uniquely challenging and profoundly blessed. We wear many hats: provider, nurturer, protector, disciplinarian, comforter, and the list goes on. I wore those hats for 29 years as a single mom. Now, I have grown children and grandchildren, so today I write for you, the parents who are still struggling. I write to share portions of my story, hoping that you will find the spirit of resilience, confidence, and strength that lives within you. 

I’ll be honest, I didn’t choose the single-parent life. In fact, I was raised in a two-parent home, and I never imagined my children would grow up without that. But life changes our plans.

Trauma and unexpected turns shaped my path, forcing me into survival mode before I could even catch my breath. The hardest years came after my divorce, when my children were just 7 and 3. Our financial footing shifted overnight, so we downsized from suburbia to a modest three-bedroom townhome in Liverpool. I juggled two jobs just to keep the lights on, and some weeks I had to make impossible choices: pay the bills or feed my children.

I remember standing in the grocery store one evening, list in hand, calculator open on my phone. Every item that landed in the cart felt like a decision between what we needed and what we could live without. A few extra dollars at the register could mean the electric bill would have to wait. In those moments, I’d take a deep breath, whisper a prayer under my breath, and trust that somehow, God would make a way.

Even as a woman of faith, I sometimes wondered if I had been forgotten during these hard times. One morning, in the midst of overwhelm, I heard this Psalm deep in my spirit: “The Lord directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives.”

All I could whisper was, “Jesus, help me.”

A month after moving, my car broke down completely. It was towed away and declared non-repairable. I was devastated. But then, I felt like my prayer was answered: the mechanic offered me the book value for that totaled car — yes, really! — allowing me to buy a used one that barely needed maintenance. That same mechanic even repaired the new one at a discount.

​​I’ve come to believe that in our lowest moments, help still finds its way to us. It doesn’t always arrive how we expect — it might come through a person, a small opportunity, or even a broken-down car. Now, I have faith that we’re being cared for in ways we may not always recognize.

My son-n-love Levi & Ashellee, myself, granddaughter Luna, Addison, daughter-n-love Tariana& grandson Judah.

Looking back, I can see that what carried us through wasn’t one big breakthrough, but a

thousand small steps. After those nights of stretching every dollar and praying over every bill, I made a decision: our home would be built on peace, not fear. To do that, even when finances were tight, I kept routines for my children: family dinners, school sports, musical instruments, and youth group. 

On Saturdays, we often spent time at our local library, reading, researching, and simply being together. Those moments gave my children a sense of stability when everything else felt uncertain. 

Through our church community, they participated in summer camps, internships, and mission outreaches, which included trips to California, Alabama, Oklahoma, Kenya, and Honduras. These experiences shaped their character, broadened their worldview, and helped them grow spiritually and intellectually. 

I started taking the financial literacy classes at church where I asked questions without shame, learned to budget with purpose and found creative ways to save by couponing, thrift shopping, meal planning, and saying “no” to anything that didn’t serve our family’s goals. With every paycheck, I trusted that God would multiply what we had.

Through those hard years, I learned to practice self-care, not as luxuries, but as vital tools. I listened to jazz that lifted my mood and worship music that filled me with encouragement, and I would dance, dance, dance. I went for walks to clear my mind and enjoy nature, watched the sunset, and took trips to explore nearby places — no money required. I’d even go to a movie, and I discovered that it’s okay, even fun, to go alone. Sometimes I would purchase a unique teacup that made me feel joyful. Then, I’d sit quietly, pulling up a chair to the window, and I’d enjoy my favorite dessert and tea in my new cup.

My best self-care always came from my journal, though. I have been journaling for as long as I can remember. It became a way to express my inner self, thoughts and emotions that might otherwise remain unspoken. On paper, I could see and read the feelings and situations I was navigating at the time. Later, as I reread those entries, I often gained a broader perspective. Writing became a way to ease stress and find clarity. Yet my journals weren’t filled only with life’s challenges; they also captured beautiful, joy-filled moments that reminded me of God’s goodness.

Over time, I advanced in my career, the children grew, and we began to see the fruit of all those years of sacrifice. My kids became responsible, compassionate, and resilient, qualities shaped by the very challenges we once prayed would pass. Now when I look at them, grown, successful, and grounded, I see living proof that struggle doesn’t define us. Faith, consistency, and love do.

On the left is my Sister & Family & My Mother is in the white sweater.

During a recent conversation with a friend, I shared how journaling had been deeply therapeutic for me over the years. She suggested turning some of those reflections into essays. I ended up self-publishing a book of devotions called Flourishing Solo that celebrates my faith and achievements. Publishing Flourishing Solo reminded me how far I’ve come — and how far you can go, too. If you’re in a place of survival, I want you to know: this isn’t the end of your story. You are becoming stronger, wiser, and more grounded in ways you may not yet see. 

Flourishing Solo by Jacqueline Spears

Keep showing up. Keep trusting that you’re being cared for, even in the unseen. One day, you’ll look back and realize that even when it feels like you’re going solo, you’re never truly alone.