Considering all Christian singer Bonnie Keen's been through, you'd expect her to be a bitter, angry woman.

Her first husband's relationship with another woman led to the demise of their 10-year marriage 10 years ago. As a single mom to two young children—Courtney, then six, and Graham, then two—Bonnie endured constant financial struggles and nearly had to move her fractured family in with her parents. When she finally re-entered the dating scene, she narrowly escaped being date-raped by a "nice Christian man."

Just when it appeared things were finally looking up and First Call, the multiple Grammy-nominated and Dove Award-winning Christian singing group she'd been part of for 10 years, was about to sign its biggest recording deal to date, infidelity struck again. This time it was in the form of the highly publicized affair in 1994 between her married groupmate MaraBeth Jordan and Christian solo artist Michael English, also married. The record deal was lost and the Christian music industry turned its back on First Call as everyone tried to figure out how to respond to this unprecedented scandal.

Her livelihood deeply damaged and her personal life in shambles, Bonnie sank into deep depression. Unable to eat, sleep, or stop crying, she ignored thoughts of suicide merely for the sake of her children.

Yet today Bonnie, 45, sits in a trendy pizza joint in a Nashville suburb not far from the home she now shares with her second husband, Brent, looking, oddly enough, happy. In fact, one of the first things you notice about Bonnie—besides her 5'11" stature!—is her effervescent personality. She's released a solo album, Marked for Life (Spring Hill), and a book, Blessed Are the Desperate for They Will Find Hope (Harvest House), to encourage others.

So what happened?

In this exclusive TCW interview, Bonnie tells of the surprising companion she found in her darkest hours, explains why she calls herself an "out-of-the-closet basket case," and reveals her secrets to survival, hope, and joy.

But I have to be honest, things weren't perfect before that discovery. Although outwardly we seemed like the perfect couple, behind the scenes, Daniel and I had awful arguments about everything from finances to our physical relationship. Our endless discussions got us nowhere, so I dragged us into counseling, hoping for healing.

Through counseling, I realized I needed to stop playing the parent role in our marriage. While I tried to back off, it was difficult to undo patterns we'd been living in for a decade. It required a tremendous amount of work. That's why I think this other relationship was so tempting to Daniel; it didn't come with any baggage.

But we didn't make much progress and my health rapidly deteriorated. I lost a ton of weight and underwent two surgeries for precancerous conditions. After so much time and so many health problems, my father said to me, "You've done everything you can. I want you to call a lawyer and get on with your life." A couple other close Christian friends and my pastor told me the same thing, and it was clear that Daniel wanted to be with another woman.

Sensing a peace about my decision, I filed for divorce.

I wanted to pass out flyers saying, "I know I'm no picnic to live with sometimes, but you don't know all the details." People who didn't know me or the circumstances wrote me scathing letters.

I was already beating myself up over the whole thing. I felt as though I'd failed God, my parents, my friends, my ex-husband, my children. Even though I had biblical grounds and felt God's release to go ahead with the divorce, I felt so ashamed that I'd failed in the primary relationship in my life.

I also realized that when Christ was on the earth, he didn't seek out perfect people. When I realized Christ really liked basket-case women, I found peace. And I found the freedom to be imperfect.

I finally got it: We aren't saved or loved because of our achievements, but because of Christ's death on the cross. I discovered what an amazing gift grace is.

Graham doesn't really have any memories of us living together as a family, and that bothers him. Lately he's been asking, "Did you and Dad ever have fun together?" I'll answer, "Oh, yeah. Let me tell you about the time we did this …" Graham needs to know it wasn't always bad. And he needs his dad to be a hero. So I try to honor the positive times—for my kids' sake and for mine. There are good memories. And though it's painful to remember them, I need to.

It's been an act of discipline for me to speak positively to my children about their father. They've been hurt enough; they don't need to hear my pain, too.

The one thing I really wanted to do for them was keep the house. We lived in a sweet neighborhood with great Christian neighbors and a bunch of kids who ran in packs together from yard to yard. I didn't want to tear them away from that, too; I wanted something to remain stable.

Several times we almost had to sell the house, but God always provided something at the 11th hour. A friend would offer to pay for a year of my kids' schooling, or a check would arrive just in the nick of time. Sometimes we lived on credit cards.

But in the end, the children never had to leave the house in which they grew up. It was a safe haven during some awful times.

The reality is, there are two people involved in a divorce, two sides to every story. I needed forgiveness as much as Daniel did. Sure, technically his relationship with another woman split us up, but I wasn't perfect either. When I realized how much God has forgiven me, I couldn't help but believe that forgiveness was my door to peace.

But knowing the kids were watching me for cues as to how to respond to their father—and now their stepmother—was good. I realized I could teach them a huge lesson about bitterness or forgiveness. And I don't want bitter kids.

I've established a friendship with my ex-husband's wife. It took me years to get to that point. She's been a great step-mom to my kids, and now she and I get along great. But there were several years of silent agony.

At some point I realized we're all going to be in heaven together. The Bible says if you believe in Christ and repent of your sins, which I believe they've done, then there's grace. So I figured we'd better learn to deal with this relationship here.

But four years after the divorce, I met a man at my children's Christian school. He was a single parent with two kids near my children's ages, and was on the coaching team. I'd see him at the kids' games. As I watched how he helped the kids, I thought he was a nice man. We talked for more than six weeks before we actually went out.

Well, yes and no. I wanted to meet him at a restaurant, but he insisted on picking me up. But we never made it to dinner because he physically attacked me in my home. He was larger than I am, and I struggled to get away.

After what seemed like an eternity of heated conversation and physical struggle, I finally said, "Isn't this what a lawyer would call attempted date rape?" And then he left. I was bruised and sore from our struggles. But much wiser.

It also made me realize I'd made finding a new husband more important than my relationship with God. I needed to die to those desires and trust God with my future, no matter what. Even if I never remarried, I knew I still needed to be able to find joy in every day.

But when we went on a tour with Michael English, Michael and Mara-Beth seemed to spend a lot of time together, and their interactions seemed inappropriate for people who were married—and not to each other. When I saw this flirtatious behavior while we were on the road, it really bothered me. I knew what had happened in my own marriage must have started out the same way. I didn't want them to go through what I had, so I confronted Michael and MaraBeth.

That troubled me, because I knew this wasn't what First Call was all about. Their relationship seemed suspicious, yet we were scheduled to remain on the road with Michael for many more months. After wrestling, praying, and talking with Marty about it, I decided I needed to leave the group.

The night I was going to tell everyone I was leaving First Call, MaraBeth finally confessed the affair to the group. MaraBeth ended up leaving, and I stayed. We temporarily replaced her with the girl I was going to suggest to take my place.

A lot of people cancelled our concerts. Marty and I had to write letters to pastors assuring them we still loved God. Our concert booking agency didn't call us for months. A few close friends called us, and Warner Alliance offered First Call the opportunity to record two albums as a duo. But the rest of the Christian music industry disappeared for us.

I sank into a deep depression. It started with crying spurts. The next thing I knew, I couldn't stop crying—at home, in my car, the grocery store.

By the time I went on the Young Messiah Tour that year, I was crying constantly, barely sleeping two hours at a time, unable to eat. Most days I wanted to die.

When that tour ended, I got off the bus, drove home to touch base with the kids, then drove straight to my pastor's office. I was shaking and weeping so badly that he called a medical doctor and made an appointment for me that day.

They wanted to hospitalize me, but I told them I couldn't. I had two little kids at home who'd already been through so much. I was their world. They couldn't "lose" me too, even temporarily.

Slowly my body stabilized. I'd lost weight, my metabolism was messed up, I was severely sleep-deprived. And those were just the physical symptoms! Healing took a long time.

But I'll admit there was a bit of a mental adjustment. I had to get past the thought that Christians are supposed to be happy, that depression is just a sign of weak faith.

I lashed out at God and said, "You know what? I'm sick of this. I'm either going to go deeper with you than I ever have, or I'm just turning away for good." So I tried not to believe. I thought maybe I needed to let my faith go. It hadn't worked in my marriage, ministry, finances, or physical health. It didn't seem to work anywhere.

I remembered that Isaiah 53:3 says Jesus was a man of sorrow familiar with suffering. And that he hung out with people who had messy lives. He loved them and seemed to say, You're kind of a mess here, but I love you. I want you to change some things in your life, but most of all I want you to hold onto me. Let me take this cross and help you bear it. I finally learned the deep significance of him carrying our pain and shame and sin.

So I realized God was in this awful abyss with me. He wasn't afraid of my despair or repulsed by it; he wanted to take it for me. That was such a powerful, perspective-changing truth.

I began to see many comrades sitting in the pews at church, people who were desperate for somebody to speak about divorce and depression. They felt like the lowest of the low, afraid the church didn't love them anymore, that God didn't love them anymore.

The first time I shared some of these stories, the room got deathly quiet. Inside I was thinking, You shouldn't have shared; they don't want to hear this. But I plunged ahead. After the concert, several women came up to me in tears, thanking me profusely for talking about such tough topics. They were so relieved they weren't the only Christians who'd been sexually assaulted or who understood the pain of betrayal. Right then I realized God could use my experiences to comfort others. And I was amazed all over again at how he can redeem any situation.

Since then I've started speaking at conferences for women and single parents. Also, though I'm still part of First Call, which is now a duo, I recorded a solo album full of the hope and healing I've found. And I wrote a book about all I've been through.

No matter how lonely you are, keep your standards high, especially if you have children watching. Be careful how quickly you get involved in another romantic relationship. It's too easy to be relationally needy, which doesn't make for the best decisions.

Feel all the anger and shame and guilt inside you. Don't try to deny those negative feelings because they're part of the healing process. You can't really move forward until you push through those emotions, not around them. But at some point if you're willing to forgive and seek forgiveness, God can bring incredible grace, healing, and peace to your life.

Find a church that will support you. God hates divorce, but he doesn't hate divorced people.

Finally, don't give up your dreams, because many of us think everything's lost. But I've learned firsthand that nothing's ever wasted if you give it to God. He's redeemed every broken place in my life. Sometimes it's taken a while to see his hand. But his redeeming power keeps me going.

After I started healing from my depression, I thought God was going to keep me single so I could minister to single parents. I wanted to challenge churches to offer encouragement and practical help to these hurting people. And then I started seeing Brent …

Brent had a gut-wrenching divorce, too. His wife left him and took their five-year-old son with her. Then she revealed he wasn't really Brent's son after all; he was another man's child. Brent was devastated.

We ran into each other again after our divorces and started seeing each other. On our first date he said, "I re-member what you were wearing the first time I saw you 20 years ago." He described where I was performing and everything I had on, down to the boots. He was right! I was impressed.

I knew he was a man I could honor and trust. He makes me laugh and he's so godly.

We also have set times of communication. Brent calls them our "hour of power." Every Sunday we check in with each other to see how we're doing and to discuss anything that may be wrong. That's been a great tool for keeping the lines of communication open.

I often remind myself to back off. I want to respect Brent in ways I probably disrespected my first husband by taking over.

I look at my life now—the peace I feel with my first husband and his wife, my healthy kids and wonderful new mate, my solo album and book to en-courage hurting people in the church—and I couldn't agree more.

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