Today I bring you a little interview with my mentor and friend, Sally Clarkson. She is an inspiration to me to hold onto biblical ideals and to pursue integrity. She encourages me, admonishes me, and loves me. I am grateful for her wisdom. I know you will be, too. Enjoy.

Sarah Mae: In your book, The Mission of Motherhood, you say this: “To have significant energy for the task, we must make the choice to embrace motherhood wholeheartedly.” What does it mean to embrace motherhood wholeheartedly?

Sally: I think that if you are a mature Christian who has committed in your life to glorify God, and if you believe you’ll be held accountable for the souls, minds, and hearts of your children, you have to make the decision to obey Him in being present with your children – giving them the best and the first of your time, your life, and your heart. It’s an issue of obedience to God, not just a philosophical choice. “I must obey God before the voices of the world.”

Sarah Mae: When it comes to the souls of our children, what responsibility do we have, and where do we just let go and trust God with them?

Sally: There are two sides to the coin. You must fill your soul and heart with biblical wisdom. God commands us to read the Word. If you’re not feeding on truth, than you’re not going to be making wise decisions. You must constantly be disciplining yourself to be as wise as you can be. The other part is we say, “Lord, you have access to my heart and my brain, please instruct and lead my children to you.” I have no power to lead my child’s heart to Christ because only God can do that. But I have the responsibly of reflecting Christ to my child, and I do this by feeding my mind on His wisdom.

In the absence of biblical conviction, we go the way of the culture. If we’re not building on biblical faith, than we’ll be susceptible to following the voices of our peers, or bloggers, or our culture.

To build a relationship with a child, a deep, loving, trusting, affirming, life-giving relationship, requires lots of time and focused attention. Moms are trying to find formulas to make it easier so they don’t have to take the time to develop the relationship, but without the relationship with child, they will not embrace your message about God.

People are trying to replace time with formulas: “Just give me the rules, the formula.” It’s not easy to build a deep relationship, it takes time, but that’s the way you’ll influence your children.

Sarah Mae: What is an issue you see facing moms today? Can you give us some encouragement when it comes to facing these issues?

Sally: Moms and social media. It’s addicting to be in media; it’s as addictive as pornography. I fight it myself. If I get up and I feel like I want to go to my computer instead of to the Lord, than I’ve made the internet the idol. He will not bless somebody who is following idols, anymore than you can say to your husband, “I really love you, I just have one boyfriend.” Either you take me or you don’t take anyone.

But even beyond media, I think moms are isolated, and feel alone and unsupported in their tasks and often they lack vision and have nothing in their background that would help them know how to have a healthy relationship with their children. This is a discouraging combination and so many moms feel inadequate but don’t know what to do about it. I wrote Mission of Motherhood to help moms know how to find interest, challenge, fun and inspiration in their mission as a mom so that they can find deep fulfillment as the design of God unfolds in their hearts. it’s sort of like getting a new pair of glasses in which to see the world and suddenly you begin to see things that you have never seen before.

Moms should also find another mom or two to read the book together so they can develop ideals with another friend who will give accountability, encouragement and grow their families together. My friends who have the same vision provide so much fun and encouragement to me and to my children and it has kept me from being lonely and it has given me hope along this journey.

“Sometimes, when I’m around people, I still feel lonely.” -Ella, age six

She curls up on the couch and speaks the words that are quoted above. I go over to her, kneel down, and begin to rub her back. “Tell me about it?” I listen as she moves and sits up and a light shines in her eyes. “I just want to go on a date with you. When can we go on a date?” Oh yes, the date I promised her we’d go on, the date I forgot about, the date I need to mark down so it’s set. Her love language is quality time, and when I’m not giving that time to her, she feels lonely and lost and sad. I tell her I will talk to daddy about a good night to go out. She smiles.

I’ve got to make time for that date.

But there’s the writing, and the contributing, and the conference, and the books, and the commitments, and…

This is not life. Life is full when children are taken on dates, and families spend Saturdays together, and books are read, slowly, and food is made for the hurting, adventures are embarked upon, and laundry is folded with little hands who need to learn. I choose this.

Time is mine for the molding. I choose.

I choose whether or not to sit with my children over breakfast and read to them.

I choose whether or not to gather my children in blankets and read.

I choose whether or not to turn off the T.V.

I choose whether or not to play cards with my son, or draw with my daughter, or read book after book with my littlest one.

I choose whether or not to go to bed early with my husband.

I choose whether or not to use my timely wisely when it comes to writing and planning and traveling.

I choose. The time is mine to use.

I choose dating.

“Beautiful faces are those that wear, the light of a pleasant spirit there; beautiful hands are those that do, deeds that are noble, good, and true; beautiful feet are those that go, swiftly to ease another’s woe.” -Unknown

I am quick to blame the media and culture for the damage done to girls when it comes to their feelings of self-worth. The media is saturated with foolish ideals and hollow worth, and I think I’m better.

But then I hear myself say to my husband, “Ug, I feel fat, I need to lose some weight.” Or “There is no hope for my face, I feel so ugly.” I throw out those careless words and then look over and see my six-year-old daughter coloring near by, quiet, taking in my words. And it hits me.

I am the media.

I am the culture.

I am the one showing her that worth is in a face or the body. I tell her that her worth comes from within, and that God sees the heart, but then I make off-the-cusp remarks about how “I feel” so fat. The truth (the truth!) is that I’m healthy and have an amazing body created by God to walk and dance and house a heart and soul and lifeblood. I have these fingers that type quickly, and toes that keep me balanced, and a mind that is wonderful because of His design.

And so do my daughters. My beautiful, artistic, brilliant, poetic daughters.

I have got to learn to gate my mouth when I want to spew out the venom of self-loathing. I must instead choose to praise God for how I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I want to care for this mind and this body that God has given me, and I will show my daughters to do the same.

Are you with me?

Love, SM

I’ve been forgetting about the mundane, lately.

I consider the mundane to include doing the every day tasks that keep life out of chaos: doing the dishes, the laundry, cleaning up bedrooms, dining rooms, bathrooms, and living rooms, writing grocery lists that contain healthy food, doing the grocery shopping, preparing educational lessons, crafts, and all such tasks that I would much rather not do.

If I had my way, I would spend my days writing, spreading ideas, soaking up the sun, reading, and basically focusing on my needs. But that life certainly wouldn’t lead to a life of integrity or character or sacrifice. And what of my children? Who would train them or teach them in the ways of truth, goodness, discipline, and the importance of not leaving clean laundry unfolded in the laundry basket?

I could raise my babies on TV and “mommy’s busy” or I could raise them with play and “let’s clean up together and then read some books.”

I could spend bits of time with them here and there and hope/pray for the best.

Or, I could do the work.

I really want to do the work because I really don’t want to look back on my life and regret the decisions I made.

I don’t want to look back and say, “why didn’t I just turn off the TV?” “Why didn’t I play with my babies more?” “Why didn’t I teach them how to pray?” “Why didn’t invest in their minds when they are little sponges?”

I know I’m not going to get this “do the work” thing right, because I’m selfish and tired and some days, just bored. But I’m going to keep looking at my mama-resolution and keep trying. One day at a time.

I’m going to keep trying because the souls in my care deserve intentionality from their mama. If I don’t train them and teach them, who will? If I neglect my responsibility, they will be taught, by TV, the culture, their peers, but will the teaching be things that are beautiful and good and true?

And mundane?

Because I want my children to know how to scrub a toilet and hang their clothes and take a hurting friend or a new mama a meal.

I want them to serve, to be humble, to have self-control, to be patient, and kind, and mostly…

to love.

I think I will teach them the most about love if I give myself over to the “mundane” of life. If I give myself to the tasks that make a home, a home they will want to tuck into their hearts and hold on to. A home that offered them life and and an overflow of the kind of love that leaves the comfortable and lends a hand.

A home that I will look back on, Lord willing, in my old age and say, “I chose the beautiful mundane, and I don’t regret it one bit.”

I remember a few years ago when I was having a really hard time with the day to day of life. I had two little ones and was pregnant. I felt very lonely, I was overwhelmed, and I suffered from tremendous guilt that I wasn’t doing enough or being a good enough wife, mother, or  homemaker.

It was winter, but spring was just around corner and softball would be starting up for my husband again soon. The baby was due at the end of February. I asked my husband if he would not play softball that spring because I would have a 19 month old, a three year-old, and a newborn, and even one night away, let alone two, was more than I felt I could handle. My husband didn’t understand and was upset that I would ask him to give up softball. As you can imagine, we had quite the disagreement.

I shared with my sister-in-law my feelings of being overwhelmed and guilty. She encouraged me to express to my husband that I felt like I was drowning and he was asking me to swim harder, when what I needed was him to pull me out of the water.

I shared my feelings with my husband, and he expressed to me that he needed an outlet. He worked all day and than had to come home and relieve me, and he just needed a break. In some ways, he was drowning as well.

Those days with little ones and out-of-control hormones were dark water days.

I felt very alone, and very, very tired.

I want you to know how I felt because I want you to know that if you are experiencing a season where life feels under water and you are gasping for breath, that you are not alone. I really do understand. You feel crazy, emotional, tired, overwhelmed, and you’re not sure if you can ask for help. You don’t want to be a burden. But you’re not okay.

I remember those days.

You are not crazy.

Facebook statuses and blog posts where everyone’s children are happy and cute and “hahahaha” are just the pretty side of the painting. The art is beautiful, but creating it is messing, and time-consuming, and painstaking. Everyone’s children yell. Everyone’s children have conflict. Everyone’s children spill milk, pee in their bed, and ask a million questions when your head is about to explode. And sometimes, you do explode.

Cut yourself some slack, mama.

You are normal. You are kind of a mess (but not all mess). You are not alone.

Let me say it again: you are normal.

You will come out of this season.

My baby is three, and I’ve just now found dry land. I can breathe.

Hang in there, the shore is just a few more waves away.

Love, SM