I have recently been introduced to a new Podcast that I am absolutely devouring called “At Home with Sally” and I simply have to tell you all about it.

Sally Clarkson is a beautiful, gentle but fiercely passionate lady who is currently in her sixties. She has four grown children – two girls and two boys – whom she calls her best friends. Her passion and mission is life is to help women to know the Word and to grow into all that God has for them, especially loving on Mum’s and their journey of Motherhood. (You can find more about her here.)

These past few days, I’ve been listening to her podcasts on the Mission of Motherhood and how to “Love God by Embracing Biblical Motherhood” (Listen to Episode #373 here).

I have been absolutely blown away. Never before have I heard teaching quite like this – about the awesome privilege and responsibility we have to bring our children up to love God; to create a legacy that lasts generations beyond; that motherhood is a calling, a mission even; that our grown children can truly be our best friends and together we can grow more in love with God as we journey through life until eternity.

I have been disturbed, shaken, awoken anew about how we can and should be intentional about growing our children in the things of God. I almost wish I could go back to the start of my motherhood journey and try all over again. Almost. Because her messages have wreaked me in the most beautiful way, and I know that I have missed so many opportunities and failed so many times. I have many regrets, even shame and guilt about my parenting journey, as maybe some of you have, but I know that I’m not done yet and I can still make changes and do better.

Before I rush too far ahead, let me go back and share a little bit about my journey… You see, I never wanted to have children. There, I said it! I never thought I would ever be a Mum. I had a plan and a trajectory that was taking me to the top of the corporate ladder. A successful business women in my own right was all I ever dreamed, planned and wanted to be. I didn’t even care if I never got married. I had goals and I was working hard on achieving them. I was gonna take this good little Christian girl to the top of that ladder, determined to do it with my integrity intact, without lying, cheating or sleeping my way there.

But God had other plans!

Let me just take a moment to interject here… to all of you who are reading this that are still longing with a heart-ache heart-broken longing to have children of your own – I see you and acknowledge you. I am now very sorry for my selfish and narrow-minded view, however, please know and understand that we are all walking different journeys. God had to do a specific work in me and perhaps that may be the case for you too. I pray that one day, your dream of being a Mother comes true and I pray God’s abundant blessings on you! Please read on to see how this turned out for me – this is my story and one day, I hope to hear yours. 😘

When I was still a fresh faced twenty-one year old, just one month after my 21st Birthday in fact, God brought this incredible man across my path and I couldn’t deny that he was a gift hand-wrapped just for me. Within a month of meeting him, we were planning our future together. We were engaged six months from the day we met and married six months later – right on one year from the day he first walked into my life.

And that was okay, wonderful in fact. I could still do everything that I had planned. I still followed my dreams to climb that corporate ladder, I just had a husband to bring along for the ride with me now – and he was on-board with the plan, so it was all good.

We coasted along beautifully for our first year of marriage, both working hard and enjoying married life as we got to know each other better and began to blend our ideals and our future’s together.

We decided together that I would go on the pill, as children were not in our future (at least not in our immediate future), unless God did some serious heart work in me and changed that plan.

Then we went on our first holiday/overseas trip/honeymoon just short of a year after we were married. On that trip to visit my husband’s family in New Zealand, we read an article in the local town newspaper about a local girl passing away as she walked down the aisle to marry her man on her wedding day. They said it was due to an allergic reaction to the pill that she started taking in preparation for her marriage.

Because my husband’s family knew her, this shook us all so deeply and I wrestled with my own decision to take the pill – considering I’m not one to take any medication at the best and worst of times, this was already a difficult decision for me to have had to make. I really began to seek God about whether the pill was the right choice for me/us.

A few weeks after we got home from New Zealand, we took a quick weekend getaway for our 1st year Anniversary. It was a really precious time and I fell in love with my husband all over again, and much more deeply. It was on this trip that we both truly discovered the joy of intimacy.

Needless to say, when we got back home, I realised that I had forgotten to take my contraceptive tablets a lot over the last few weeks of holidays and getaways. I think subconsciously, I was now a little bit scared to take them. I began to pray really hard that God would have His way. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the smartest prayer, but I thought that my choice to not have children was in line with God’s plan for my life (ie. no children in my future), so I thought it was all going to be okay.

We discovered right on six weeks after our Anniversary that I was pregnant.

I didn’t know what to feel or think about it. Honestly, I was just kind of numb. My husband was elated. I found out later that all the while I was thinking that no children was our plan, he was hoping and praying for a change of heart and that God would have His way. In the course of time, we began to tell our friends and family and I put on the facade of happiness about it all – because that was what was expected of me (but that is a whole other story for another day).

Word spread really fast, and before we knew it, the entire Church congregation (around 400 people) knew. It seemed like everyone we came in contact with was congratulating me. I was still numb and going through the motions. I was trying to reconcile how this had happened and wondering why God wasn’t on-board with my plan (to not have children) .

We went for our first ultrasound scan at around 12 weeks, only to discover that I had miscarried. All the emotions swapped me at once – relief, heart-ache, joy, pain, confusion, anger, and then relief again. In the end, I sobbed.

I sobbed for the journey, for the child that I would never hold, for guilt at not wanting a child in the first place, for my first opportunity to be a mother being taken away so briskly, for my selfishness and my wretchedness, for not being on-board with God’s plan for us, for the loss, for thinking that this almost never was, for my husband, for all the people we would have to tell, for all of it.

The next few days, despite laying low, we were continually congratulated by people about our wonderful news; we were still receiving gifts and cards from people who were excited on our behalf. They didn’t know that we had lost the baby, and each time, my heart would break a little more.

An announcement was made in Church that Sunday to let people know that we had miscarried, and though it now sounds like a very intimate thing to share with a crowd of hundreds, it was the best and quickest way to close down the outpouring of congratulations we were still receiving.

But then came the beautiful but overwhelmingly difficult outpouring of condolences. More cards, gifts, meals, visits, hugs, tears and words were lavished upon us. And this! This is what broke me the most. How dare I receive these gifts, these words and heartache on my behalf from people, when I never really wanted a baby in the first place? What business did I have hearing their stories of miscarriages and their shared pain, when I didn’t deserve to feel that loss? I didn’t want to be pregnant and carry a child, but God had seen fit to gift me with one, and when that was lost, I simply couldn’t comprehend what I was supposed to feel or think.

Ultimately, I was lost. A basket case of mess, numbness, guilt, heart-break and confusion. I chose to put a brave face on – a mask, if you will, and proceeded on as though everything was okay.

We had a small naming ceremony for our child – the one we will meet in eternity. We named our baby ‘Baby Jo’. As we didn’t know it’s gender, we figured that would work for a boy or a girl.

Things went back to normal pretty quickly from that point, or so I wanted everyone to believe – but that’s a whole other story for another time.

In hindsight, I can clearly see that God used the entire journey to change my heart and my plan to bring it more in line with who and what He had/has called me to do and be. God purposed me to be a Mother. Even in those early years of marriage, He was making a way for me to be okay with that, and to get on-board with His plan. Over the process of time, I began to understand that this was an incredible gift. That Motherhood was a privilege and that if I didn’t shape up and smarten up, that I would lose the opportunity to ever be one (and I know my mother-in-law was praying hard for me in the back ground).

Over the months after we had miscarried, Jonno and I spent a lot of time talking and praying (furious, desperate, heart-wrenching prayers) about our future and whether we should try for a baby again, or use contraceptives, or trust God and His plan for us. We both were pretty convinced that maybe my plan to not ever have children wasn’t actually in-line with God’s plan and that if He was going to bless us with children, then we would be all in. I was petrified about the prospect of becoming a mother, but I also knew that with God anything was possible and if He wanted that for me, He would equip me for it.

I fell pregnant again a few months later – sometime in December 2001. This time, we were overjoyed when we found out, but we kept the news to ourselves for as long as we possibly could. We skated along beautifully with this pregnancy, with all the right things happening at the right time, as they should. I kept working right up until three weeks before my due date and though still absolutely petrified, I went through the normal motions of preparing for motherhood and praying like crazy that it would all be okay.

Baby decided to arrive a day before the due date. A seven hour, all natural labour (with a side of pethidine) was all it took for our little girl to be born, and of course, it was love (with a dose of awe, unbelief, fear, panic, and then overwhelming love again) at first sight. She was born in the middle of the night.

I could lie and say that it was all roses, but the truth is, we all know it wasn’t. The bubble of new baby and motherhood hit me like a tonne of bricks, and me being who I am, struggled quietly by myself and put on a brave face to the world.

My new baby didn’t like cuddles with me, she would feed and once full, would push on my chest and want to be put down – I was basically just a milk bar and poo cleaner in the first few months. She would cry for almost an hour every night and only let her Dad settle her, but then she would sleep for the entire night – 10 hours of bliss that I know God sent just for me.

So no, not all roses, but a lot of tears and prayer. I prayed like nobodies-business. Every moment she was crying, I was praying. “Lord, please help me not ruin this child. Help her to grow up strong and courageous. Help her to learn to be affectionate. Mend the broken pieces of me, so that we can have a great mother-daughter relationship with her. Lord, I want to be the best Mum that I can possibly be. Make me the Mum that this little child needs. Help me to grow into this parenting thing. Help me to understand her needs. Just simply HELP me Lord, I can’t do this on my own!”

And you know what? He did. I cultivated a life of short, every moment, every breathe, never ending, daily prayers. I spoke to God all the time. In my comings and in my goings; when I felt in over my head and when everything was going well; when I was struggling and when I was thankful; when I was worried and when little miracles happened. All the time, I prayed. Nothing was too small or too simple to talk to God about. And that’s what I think brought me through.

We carried on to have three more children over the next few years, making us a family of six, having had all four children within five years. Then my husband had a vasectomy and we were done. God blessed us in abundance with our beautiful children. All of them healthy, and easy, generally happy humans.

And as they grew and are continuing to grow, I am growing with them. Still praying every day and every moment. Still making mistakes and getting it wrong, but still learning and trying and trusting God in it all. Now that they are older (just about all four are in their teens), I’m finding I am enjoying them more and more. They are becoming some of my best friends and for that I am so grateful.

Sally Clarkson reminds me that this Mothering responsibility is never really over. Now, her grown children are her very best friends and she talks of them often and very fondly. I want to be a Mother like that, and I want for my children to want to be parents like that in their own right too, eventually.

Basically, I’ve discovered that every moment is a new opportunity to try again and get it right. Every moment is a fresh start, a new breathe, a new chance to love and lead and mother again. Motherhood is truly a mission, but I’ve come to realise that its also very much a gift.

One final thing I want to leave with you is my go-to whenever I feel like I’m failing. Early on in my parenting journey, my beautiful Mother-in-law told me something that I will never forget: “Do your best and God will do the rest!”

So, that’s what I plan to keep doing. What about you?