Never Once: A Modern Day Job Story

By Joyce Sertic

My Book is my story. My whole life has been filled with trials, trauma and so I wanted to share my testimony and real life story to help others be able to cope, to let them know they are not alone and give hope. I journaled a lot to help me, and so a lot of the book is taken right from my journal. I hope to

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rustik Haws LLC
• Release date: Jun 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781649340504

Joyce Sertic

I was married in 2006 to the love of my life. We went through countless trials, lost possessions, lost people we loved, jobs, had many disappointments yet God remained faithful. Our journey took a different turn and we decided to foster, than adopt. But days before our forever family was complete, our lives turned tragic. Walking through all our trials, I was being prepared for that moment. The moment my husband died unexpectedly. This is my story, our story about how God has remained faithful to us, how God has prepared me to raise our kids alone now, and how to cope in the midst of chaos, confusion and such pain. I hope you find much comfort in and hope in reading my story. A story compared to Job. And how God is and will continue to be glorified in the tragedies and unknowns of life.

Book preview

DEDICATION

My Beloved Peter-1976-2020

First of all, I would like to dedicate this book to my forever best friend, soul mate and life partner Peter. For all we’ve have been through, our journey is not over. Even though you left us too soon, God knew. I miss you and cannot wait to reunite with you someday. Thank you for being such an amazing husband, Father & partner and for remaining gracious, kind & loving through all your trials. You are truly an inspiration to so many. To our amazing kids. Thank you. I love you and am so grateful for you. To all my friends and family who have loved us, supported us, prayed for us and just cared for us, thank you! And to everyone who has journeyed with me. Thank you for the experiences, the friendships and for allowing God to use you in such amazing ways to teach me, prepare me and inspire me. Thank you for being a part of my story now! I would also like to dedicate this book to anyone who has ever been through any kind of trials, so I guess that is everyone. I would like to share my, our very personal and intimate story with you. I hope you can see God at work, even amongst our trials and pray it gives you hope, purpose and reason to press on.

introduction

This book has helped me deal with the pain, heartache and frustrations that come along with any kind of life ordeals. I never used to journal much, but I found writing about my feelings and all of the details of what I was experiencing to be freeing and a way for me to release everything to God. I hope you are inspired, and you are encouraged through my story. God Bless!

Chapter one

Life as a Kid

Before I dive into the good stuff, here’s a glimpse into my life as kid and growing up. So bare with me as I walk you through the beginning of my journey.

I can remember growing up and always being the bigger kid and I can remember having many arguments with my parents. You see, I have a big mouth! I like to talk, and I always had to argue or get to the bottom of my parent’s rationale on everything. I’m sure at times I drove them mad and they just wanted me to go away so they could enjoy some peace and quiet, but they always listened and showed me grace in those very annoying times. There were times though when they finally did get frustrated and I was sent off to my room. I hated my room! Our room, the one I had to share with my beloved elder sister. Nothing to do, no one to talk too (except for her, she loved going to our room, it was quiet, peaceful and she would always come up with something to do!) So off I would go, yelling, stomping and often times more than once I’d say, threatening to run away. Yup. That was me!

Than we moved….we finally had a nice big house on a quiet court, I had my very own room, and we finally had lots of space to sprawl out. At first it was super exciting. A park nearby, lots of new people to meet, and a corner store just down the street! The summer went by really fast and I started to get brave and finally meet some of the new kids on the block. They too were feeling the same as me…excited, anxious and dying for some social interaction. And yes, I loved to talk, but found myself shy and held back my conversations to those whom I did not know well. Something new for me and for my parents.

Grade 5, boy that was a nightmare! This was the first time ever that we had to take a school bus to school. The novelty at first was very exciting, but that sure wore off quickly! By the first day, there I was weeping like a little baby with my Mom, me begging her to take me to school, or let me stay home. She hugged me, kissed me and gently pushed me onto the steps of that big orange scary tunnel filled with all new faces I had never seen before. So, there I sat with tears in my eyes, hating my Mom for making me move, meet new people and now ride this horrible bus! When we arrived at school, I kept very quiet, for once in my life! Our teacher that year was a sweet dear lady. She was very gentle, soft spoken and within a minute, without me having to say anything she knew the torture I was going through. She spoke with such love and gentleness I knew I was in for at least a good day anyways!

So here we are in a new house, full of new surroundings, new friendships, and about to take a journey my parents never expected to take. My Dad’s work went on strike. I can remember my Mom trying to put on a brave face day after day, week after week as our cupboards that were full of good food and treats started to become bare. Our clothes started to fade, and my Mom’s brave face soon began to turn to panic, disappointment and fear.

We ate lots of Kraft Dinner, took any food donations that ended up on our front door, and my good old Grandma who loved us and always put us first, always seemed to show up with clothes, food and anything else we needed to get us through another dreadful week.

I always use to wonder how my parents got through those painful and long days, but they did. They never fought (well at least not in front of us), they never questioned, never took it out on us, and remained faithful in tithing, devotions and commitment to the church and to the Lord. This is something that they taught us kids, living by their great example we learned to work hard, accept what we had and always thanked God for his blessings and provision.

After months of my Dad being off work and taking jobs here and there just to make ends meat, things started to get better. It didn’t happen overnight, it was a process, a journey that we as a family had to walk through together. Yes, it was bumpy, had many hills and it came with many surprise turns, but all in all it was worth it. We were humbled and God had now begun to prepare us for the next chapter of our lives.

I managed to stop crying every morning before school about 5 months in, but it took everything in me to put on a brave face and accept the fact that I couldn’t change things. We had moved, I had to go to this school, and I had to ride that awful orange bus!

During that year, I also began to feel depressed, lonely and very unloved. I realized I was bigger than all the rest of my classmates, and although I was never picked on or called horrible names, I felt left out at times. I was always the last one to be picked for a team and always struggled keeping up in gym class. I tried, and I wouldn’t give up, but as time passed, I knew my self esteem and inner issues were about to blow up.

My siblings and I got along okay, but not great at times. It was an awkward age for us all. My brother, well he was cool, well he thought he was cool, so he would always be with his friends, they would mock me, he would steal my things out of my room, you know the typical brother/sister relationship. My sister, well she had boyfriends, hung out with friends all the time, got her drivers license, and well she was never home! I do remember though following her around all the time when boys would come over.

I was like a little detective, popping up anywhere and everywhere I felt I was needed, so basically all the time! My sister would get so frustrated, and that all too well known phrase Mom, she is bugging me would start to echo on a regular basis around our house!

A few years went by, and things with my two siblings got worse. They began to call me names, they never wanted to do anything with me, I felt like everyone was picking on me, no one would listen, and the whole world, including my parents were against me, so I thought! I had enough of living at home one day. I thought life, rules and just plain everything was so unfair, so off I went! I packed a small bag filled with a few pieces of clothing, some clean underwear, soap and a toothbrush, oh and my favorite teddy bear of course. I remember walking down the street wondering, will they even notice, when will they come and find me, will they even care, what if someone tries to come and pick me up, what am I doing? So, I turned around after my exhausting walk to the corner of our street and headed back home, hoping to get some sort of sympathy that afternoon.

I came stomping through the front door, ran up the stairs as loud as I could, slammed my door shut and laid on my bed, weeping and weeping, hoping and praying someone would come and say something or would be happy to see me back home. Sure enough, after just a few minutes of pathetic sulking in my room, there was a knock at my door. It was my Dad. The never take serious Dad who always made us laugh, and never kept the discipline up to my Mom’s standards was standing by my bed, asking me what was wrong. I shared all my hurts, disappointments, anxieties and trials of life with him that night, and he just listened. Within minuets, a calm spirit had come over me, and my Dad sat for a few hours just rubbing my back, telling me he loved me and that things would get better. That was such a solemn moment for us that I will never forget, and still brings tears to my eyes to this day.

That year, I also began to discover my love for music. My Grandma (my Dad’s Mom) was a very gifted piano player. I remember going over to their place on a regular basis and begging my Grandma to play me a song. Over and over she would let me pick the song, and I would sit on the bench with her, mesmerized by her fingers flailing about on the keys. What else was astonishing was she never used music. I could pick any song, and she could play it! It was amazing, truly a gift! My Grandma was very well known and played for many weddings, funerals, church services and choirs. But the best times for me was getting to request my favorite songs to her and having my own personal concert right in front of me!

My Grandma past away suddenly a few years later, and during the last few days of her battle with cancer, she said to me so weak but so intentionally, Joyce you also have a gift, please don’t use it for anything else but to glorify God. I was bit stunned and wasn’t exactly sure what she meant as I was still pretty young, but none the less, I felt encouraged and so grateful that she could still speak what was on her heart and that God was speaking through her to me. And I will never ever forget those words. I did begin to play the piano but didn’t have any idea where that would lead….

Chapter two

Life as a Teen

Going from adolescence to teen years is a very exciting but scary transition. No one prepares you for the acne, hormones, or girly stuff that is about to take place. But none the less, I began my teenage years with a huge party and felt ready to take on anything life had to offer.

I was still quite heavy as a teen, but I had tons of friends, I was out-going, talkative, loud and involved in many things like music, baseball and even gave volleyball a game or two! Yes, I was still slow at running, I couldn’t keep up in gym class, but I felt loved, accepted and was starting to really become passionate about my relationship with Christ. I started baby-sitting regularly, started volunteering at a day camp, went to youth group and Sunday School regularly, and talking on the phone was also an every night must!

We also inherited a hyper, crazy mutt! He was given to us by some friends of my parents, and boy was he out of control! He was cute, but he liked to jump around, eat socks, and bark at anyone who came close to our house, or his house, so he thought! Good old Toby! We loved him, even his wet slobbery kisses you got every time you put your face close to his!

I can remember my sister having a great idea, let’s take this hyper dog whom we have absolutely no control over to the back of our house which is a beautiful wide-open space and let him run around. We didn’t have a leash yet, so she made one with a clothesline rope she found stuffed in the laundry room closet.

So off we went out the back with a ball to play with. Our fun and laughter soon turned into screams of pain.

The dog had gotten away. The clothesline rope had burned through my sister’s hands and he had wrapped himself around her, and down she fell to the hard, muddy ground. Of course, I thought this was hilarious, her idea and look, she was forced on the ground by this dumb dog that was just too excited to do anything. I laughed as I slowly walked over to make sure she was actually okay, and my mocking soon turned into tears as well. Toby, our new vivacious pet had now wrapped himself around my ankles, and the rope began to burn. I cried a lot. My Dad finally came out to see what all the ruckus was, and there was Toby running away, as my sister and I lay on the ground crying that our new pet had scarred us for life, literally, and I still have the marks to prove it!

During those tough teen years, our church had hired a lady youth pastor. She was amazing! She was everything I wanted to be. She was full of energy, she drove a really cool car, she was great at everything she did, and she was beautiful to boot! She took a real interest in me. Maybe because she felt sorry for me, or she saw some real potential, I will take the 2nd option. But hoped to re-meet her someday to thank her for investing in my life and loving me and being an amazing example of Christ. One night at a DC Talk Concert I gave my life to Christ, she went forward with me and a few others, and from that night on I started to get serious about my relationship with him.

I was baptized later that year and shortly after that our church went through some serious turmoil. Eventually she left, my model, prayer partner and someone I looked up to was gone for good. It was a sad day. I remember saying good-bye and everything in me tried to hold back the tears. I was not going to cry, even though everyone else around me was not afraid to show their sadness of her quick departure, I was determined to be strong. Well in front of her that was, but boy did I let loose when we got home!

So off to high school I went. High school was great! Yes, I was still a big girl, but I had found a new confidence, and I was happy, excited and ready to take on the challenges.

I was still sluggish in gym class but mastered the alto sax in rep band! I had lots of friends. There was not a care in the world for me in high school! Except for Math class! First semester in and there is a big fat D on my report card. How in the world was I supposed to tell Mom and Dad about this? But they knew! They seemed to know when the report cards were coming home, so even if I tried to hide it, they would ask, and I would half to go and pull it out of my backpack! They were shocked! So, there I sat at the kitchen table with my Dad every single night going over equations, division, long division, fractions, my brain was so tired!! When will this end I thought! But 3 months later, and that D went to a B! It was well worth it!! Thanks Dad!!

In February of my grade 12 year, a friend of mine told me about an opportunity he had to go and visit a bible college in Regina. I hadn’t planned or frankly even thought about what I was going to do, or what college I was going to go too so I thought, heck, why not! I get to take a few days off school, fly out to a place I had never been or even heard of for that matter, and who knows, maybe there will be some nice Christian boys I will meet.

So off we went! This was the most horrible weekend of my life! We arrived and were greeted by one of the sophomore students. He drove us back to the campus, gave us a quick tour and headed off to a basketball game. So, my friend and I walked around a bit hoping to meet some new people, or I was hoping to find out where I would be staying for the night. No one else greeted