I remember the morning I sat up in my bed and thought, “If something doesn’t change, I’m not going to make it.”

Life had become like water. I couldn’t catch it; it just kept slipping through my fingers. I felt so behind, so robotic, so stuck. Why couldn’t I change? Why couldn’t I get myself together? Why couldn’t I do the things I wanted to do?

I just felt tired and overwhelmed, and many days, defeated.

But that morning in my bed, I decided I wanted to live; I didn’t just want to go through the motions.

And it was that day I purposed to wake up to my own life and choose it. No one was going to do it for me. Whatever it was that clicked in me that morning made me see that I didn’t want to regret my life. I didn’t want to look back one day and see that I missed it.

It’s such a funny thing when you become a mom. You lose yourself to it in the most beautiful way. You give of yourself, you sacrifice, and it’s good and you wouldn’t change it. But then one day you wake up and you think, “Who am I now?” You have to figure out a new normal. You’re you, but you’re different. So this waking up I was doing was more then just getting out of a funk; it was figuring out a new way to live in this mother-self-skin.

“Daily life is very seductive. Weeks go by and we forget who we are.”

Natalie Goldberg, Writing Down the Bones

I committed to making small changes over a period of several months in order to wake up to my life. I experimented with myself, trying all sorts of things having to do with self-discipline, diet, mothering, spiritual depth, figuring out who I was (and accepting myself), and learning to serve out of who God created me to be. I basically boot-camped my own life. And it worked. It woke me up.

I haven’t shared too much about here, but overtime I will. But what I want to share with you today are the two initial things that changed the course of my life: 1.) I chose to live, and 2.) I fought for it.

Choosing to Live

I literally had to say out loud, “I’m going to choose to live my life.”

It was a light bulb moment for me to awaken to the fact that I could choose my life. That God, in His kindness, gave us minds and hearts and guts and bodies to be able to choose how we want to live; He gave us the ability to think and make decisions and act on them. It seems so obvious, right? But life does this thing to you sometimes where you just feel like you have no choice, like you just have to roll where the waves take you.

I know now that’s not entirely true.

We might not be able to change our personalities or our circumstances, but we can make daily decisions that affect our whole life. We can choose to say and believe that we were made for more than a mediocre, just-get-by existence. We are made to live and live fully; a half-dead people cannot be effective in the Kingdom, but a fully-alive people? Watch out. Life calls forth life, and if you are alive, you can call forth life in others. 

I am choosing to live because it matters. It matters to God, it matters to my family, and it matters to me. I want to enjoy life, and God, and His people, and the glory all around me. And when I do that, I am in a soul-alive place where I can help others. Yea, it matters.

But you have to choose it or life will pull you under.

Choosing to Fight

Once I chose, I had to face the reality that it wasn’t going to come easy. I was going to have to fight. I had to make plans, and begin again and again.

And again.

Because my plans fail and because my body sometimes fails, and my hormones course through me and make me crazy. But I keep on. I’m fighting. I have a vision to live and enjoy and be delighted in and bring God’s Kingdom to bear on this earth in creative ways. So yea, it’s imperfect, but it’s faithful. It’s something. It’s slow and steady, one day at a time. I will live today.

And when I can’t fight, when I’m feeling battle worn, He fights for me. And He will fight for you.

He sees our broken places; He doesn’t forget.

You are not alone, and I am not alone. We are in a sisterhood, together, and together we can make it.

“It is nothing to die. It is frightful not to live.”

Victor Hugo

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”

John 10:10

Love, SM

A couple of weeks ago I read a post on Facebook from a friend of mine that so moved me that I decided to act. She talked about losing her father and all the things she wished she had of him to remember him by. As I read her words, I realized that I don’t want to take anything for granted, especially my life. What if something happened to me, would my children have pictures and recordings to remember me by, to see and listen to if I can’t be with them? So often I take pictures or videos of my children, but I don’t get in them, usually because I think I look terrible and don’t want to be recorded. But the thing is, our kids don’t care about that; they just want us, mess and all.

Because my friend’s post so impacted me, and caused me to get on the ball with intentional memory making, I asked her if I could share her post with you in its entirety and she said yes.

Please welcome my beautiful friend Sarah Jessica Farber…

Dear Parent Friends,

Here is what you should know. I got 23 years, 2 months, and 11 days with my dad, and they were not enough. Forever, of course, is not enough – all of our parents leave us too soon. I was reminded of this first thing this morning, when I got a text from a friend saying she was crying. My email had the why: our mutual friend has stage 4 metastatic breast cancer. All I can think about are her two little boys. So…

Here is what I wish I had, since I don’t have my dad:

I wish I had his voice, recorded, preferably telling the kind of jokes and stories that my mom would scold him for. I wish I could hear him pronounce human “yoo-man” one last time, and wrinkle my nose at the awkward sound.

I wish I had video of him, doing anything. Even talking on the phone to his best friend while watching golf on TV would be great. He’d call Jesse “honey” and Jesse would call him “dear” and they’d gossip and talk about their motorcycles and who knows what else and it would put me to sleep. I’d love to hear that again, to be bored by the mundane conversation, to see his quirks captured on camera.

And photos, I wish I had more of them. I have precious few-he was behind the camera a lot, and didn’t much like having his picture taken. But what I wouldn’t give for a picture from the early 90s that isn’t the incredibly awkward family photo where Alex is the only one smiling and my lips are totally chapped.

Most of all, I wish I had his stories. God, he could tell a tale. Some of them were embellished, but the strangest ones were all true. I still don’t know how he ended up on the Kennedy’s yacht but danged if there isn’t a picture of him on the Honey Fitz hanging up at mom’s house. And I wish I knew more about his time in Korea in the Peace Corps. I have the fantastic picture with his mutton chop sideburns and a bunch of Korean people who are strangers to me. All I know is they were his students at the university. That story will remain unwritten.

I want you all to tell your kids your stories. Write them. Let them video you. Use the awesome StoryCorps app – it will help. Your children can interview you.  And get in the pictures – get a selfie stick if you must, but take pictures with your kids.  Have pictures taken.

Please do this for your children. 1 in 2 women will have cancer; 1 in 3 men will have cancer. Most will survive it, but no one lives forever. I beg of you, please think now about leaving your stories for your babies.

You can read this post on Sarah’s blog as well by heading HERE.

I am what you might call a book hoarder.

I love books. I have a thing for books. I smell the insides of books. They are my children. We do not ever talk about getting rid of my babies.

Until now. Well, until the other day when I read a book that told me to get rid of books.

In The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing the author, Marie Kondo, says that we should get rid of everything that does not “spark joy in our hearts.”

What a lovely way of encouraging you to THROW AWAY BOOKS. And everything else. But seriously, it was so helpful for me because my bookshelves really did need cleaned out (as well as everything in the rest of my house).

I took the author’s advice and took every single book off the shelf and then went through each deciding what to keep and what to get rid of. In addition to asking myself if it sparked joy in my heart, I also asked if it was educational for my children or would spark joy or relief in their hearts one day. If it didn’t, or I felt like it already served purpose in my life, GONE.

We purged and we purged and we got rid of over TWELVE bags of books! CRAZY.

Oh my goodness, I had no idea how good it felt to PURGE! I feel lighter already. I can’t wait to tackle the rest of my house! PURGE BABY PURGE! Anyway, I’m telling you this because I recommend the book and the purging. It was so helpful for me. If you can’t get the book, it can be summed up in this: “Get rid of everything by going through it systematically by category instead of room (clothes, books, papers, etc.) and ONLY keep what sparks joy in your heart.” 

I am telling you, there is such freedom in getting rid of things and just keeping the things you really enjoy.

One quick caveat with the book before I show you the after pics: Marie tells you to hold your book and thank it and a few other things that I’m not into. As with any book, just pick the bones and keep the meat! 

Okay, want to see the reveal? YEA YOU DO!

Doesn’t it look SO refreshing?!!! I know!

Best. Decision. Ever. I love it SO much, and I actually want to be in this room now! Yay! Thank you Marie!

Oh, and for those who are concerned about my babies, they are being given to friend.

Ahhhh, here’s to a CLEAN SPACE!

Now, want to clean WITH me? Check out my 31 Days to Clean series right here on the blog and/OR check out my new book Having a Martha Home the Mary Way (revised version of 31 Days to Clean)!

Love, SM

P.S. My husband built those beautiful shelves

I don’t remember who I was telling (maybe my editor?) that I would never write a book on marriage because I stink at it. Marriage is not my forte. I got nothin’. Except, you know, a marriage. BUT IT’S HARD AND I’M NO GOOD AT IT. I will be winning no good wife awards. In fact, I told an audience this past weekend that I had bad thoughts about my husband, and not the dirty kind. Just the bad kind.

I struggle with marriage.

I struggle with the idea that I have to try in my marriage. I don’t want to try, I want to just be. When I try, I get mad that he’s not trying. Again, this is why I will not be writing any books on marriage. BUT I have learned a few things in my almost 12 14 years of marriage. A tiny few that might, maybe be helpful to someone out there. So here they are…

Be Sickeningly Honest

There was a time that I flirted with a guy online and it could have gone farther. I was frustrated in my marriage and I was acting carelessly and I just thought, “I’ll know when to stop.” Incredibly, as the Lord does I believe always providing a way out at some point, my husband got his hands on the book, “Beyond Ordinary: When a Good Marriage Just Isn’t Good Enough”. He was reading it, and he said to me, “Have you ever wanted to cheat on me?”

“Yes.” I said.

Remember, I was in a don’t care stage and I got all honest. It was the best thing ever.

He called me over to him and I sat on his lap and I told him all about the flirting and the guy and that I was struggling. I can’t believe I told him, but I did. And he listened, which is crazy because my guy is the kind of guy that would FLIP OUT if I ever cheated on him. Like, out the door. But he listened, and we had the best conversation about our marriage. The best part? The power of the sin was broken. I didn’t even want to talk to that guy anymore. There is power in the light, and when I told the truth, light came in and the darkness vanished.

Side-note: If you ever think about having an affair, think of the after. Picture yourself telling your husband and children. Yea, not fun. I learned in counseling in college that a great way to learn from our sin is to face the consequences of our decisions (ask me how painful that is). Instead of facing them, how about just picturing them and not doing them. You’re welcome.

The Dark Thoughts Want to Keep You Locked Up

One of the things I’ve struggled with the most in my marriage is intimacy.

I’m this complicated mess and it’s been a tough road for my husband and I. One of the things I’ve felt so ashamed of is my thoughts. I felt so awful and I didn’t know how to deal with them. I couldn’t tell anyone because they would think terrible things about me. Shame. That’s what it does, it locks you up and keeps you in bondage. Eventually, I just wanted to be free and I wanted to deal with my intimacy junk because I hated it. I went to a prayer counselor and we talked and prayed and I shared a little bit. Then I was with some friends at a bible study and I, with fear and trembling, shared my deepest secret thoughts. And you know what? They said things like, “Me too.”

Their thoughts weren’t the same as mine, but they struggled with shame and sinful things just as I had. That’s the thing about shame, it makes you think you’re alone. But you’re not. And when you confess, and there is “me too” there is freedom. Again, when you confess and share the things you are afraid to share, and someone receives you, the power of the darkness is broken. I finally shared my secret thoughts with my husband, and you know what he said? “That’s it?” I mean FOR REAL. I couldn’t believe it. Shame had so locked me up and kept me in the dark that I thought I was disgusting. The thing is, sin infests all of us, I think that’s why confessing is so powerful; we learn we aren’t alone as sinful humans.

It turns out, when you turn the light on, there really are no monsters under the bed. 

With this new freedom and a massive gratefulness for grace, I decided to be a receiver of people. I would be a “me too” person. With my husband, this was the most important thing I could do as a wife. I don’t know what it means to be a “good wife” and whatever it is I’m probably not it, but I do know about grace and freedom and shame, and so with my husband I receive him and all his mess. When he confesses to me, I say, “me too”. When he is stuck in shame, I tell him, “I love you and I’m with you and for you.” Because I am. Even when I’m so mad at him I can’t stand him, I’m for him. Because I am him. I am human and sinful and in desperate need of love and grace.

Believe that God Knows What He’s Doing With Your Life

I have had the thought, “Did I marry the wrong person?” I have been hurt and angry and at my wits end in my marriage, and I have dreamed of ways out at times. But at the end of the day, I believe that God knows what He’s doing with my life, and that I’m supposed to be with my husband. He is a good man, even when he ticks me off. He’s a good man and God is doing a work with us as a couple and for His glory on this earth. Somehow, someway, us being together brings His Kingdom to bear on this earth, whether in our personal sanctification and/or with how we raise our children and/or what we do as a couple that affects this world. We are meant to be together, and God works it all out for our good and His purposes. I believe it.

Duh, It’s Hard

Our first year was terrible. Heck, we barely made it to our honeymoon. Seven years in, I was done. I actually cried on my Mother-in-Law’s laundry room floor telling her I couldn’t take it. You know what she did? She just listened to me and told me she understood. She didn’t try and give me advice or change my mind, she just felt with me. And I needed that. I needed to know I wasn’t alone or crazy, but that marriage is just hard. How can it not be? It’s two sinners living together! Marriage is a crazy thing, but it’s God’s thing. He made it; it means something. And it’s good. It’s hard, but it’s good. I remember back in high school hearing Dr. Laura (don’t laugh) say that coveting just made you miserable, and it’s true. The more I thought about not being married the more discontent I got. When I accepted my marriage, when I chose to believe God for it, I stopped being so discontent. And when I stopped being discontent, I started enjoying my marriage. My husband is my best friend. Do we fight? YES. Do I sometimes think bad things about him? YES. Do I drive him crazy and cause him to have non-dirty bad thoughts about me? I’M SURE OF IT. Because I’m a sinner too. But I love that man, and I’m glad he’s mine. For all the things I can’t stand, there are more good things. He is my biggest supporter and encourager. He lifts me up and he speaks truth into me when I believe lies. He makes me laugh, and he has the best laugh ever. I love watching Netflix with him while eating wings and drinking beer. He is my man, and he is a good man, and he is my best friend. When I think about that and the good things, when I turn my laments to thankfulness, I am a happier, more content woman. And maybe even a better wife.

Love, SM

I woke up and my body ached, my head hurt, and I had the sniffles.

I got what my kids had.

Last week all three of my children got sick with a cold, fever, body and tummy aches. I cuddled them, made them tea, rubbed their heads, and even fell asleep with one of them in their bed while thanking God that I was able to be with them while they were sick.

It was inevitable that I would get it. So when I did, I took some Ibuprofen and slathered on a bunch of oils. I then cuddled down into my bed and begged everyone around me not to talk or put on any lights.

Then it happened. My sweet girl sat on the bed next to me, rubbed my head gently, and said things like, “I’m so sorry you don’t feel well, mom. I love you.” She rubbed my head and spoke soothing words to me for nearly 10 whole minutes.

And right there, right in those minutes, I experienced one of the blessings of children.

I know that children are a blessing, but most days there is so much correction and teaching and cooking and cleaning up and the tiredness and “mom, mom, mom, mom, MOM!” and all the rest of mothering that the blessing can get lost. But when my dear Ella spoke kindly to me and rubbed my head, my heart felt such delight. I felt loved and cared for and she truly ministered to me.

The days can be long and difficult, but with each correction, each meal served, each cuddle, each kind word spoken and head rubbled and book read, I am imprinting my children with the stuff of love. And I am, without always being conscience of it, teaching them how to love.

You guys, parenting is ridiculous. It is so tired and frustrating at times, but then your child rubs your head and speaks calmness over you and it’s all worth it. All the work that you put in, day in and day out, it’s worth it. Our children are learning how to love. And when they love practically, people soften, light shines, and God, who is love, is seen.

It is love that changes the world. And that love, it begins in the four walls of your home.

It begins and works itself out in hidden places, in the normal, in the dailyness of life. But it happens, if you give yourself to the work.

So keep on moms, because what the world desperately needs comes, literally, from the love of a mother.

“Correct your son, and he will give you comfort; He will also delight your soul.” Proverbs 29:17

Love, SM