I was surprised to find myself floundering after the birth of my second child. After blissfully “finding my calling” in motherhood with my first child, I was shocked to find myself feeling ill-equipped for the task of two.

Many other circumstances also played into it: a dairy-intolerant, refluxy newborn who screamed in the car and would not be put down; a strong-willed toddler struggling to adjust; a husband juggling myriad commitments; a large renovation project; moving twice in the first few months postpartum; and living in a new suburb, further from friends and family, to name a few.

In my naivety, I had thought my naturally (or so I believed) patient and glass-half-full nature, my easy marriage, supportive friends and family, my thus-far youthful, pain-free body (which had more or less “bounced back” before), my three years of experience in motherhood, and my love of structure and organisation would easily carry me through the mum-of-two thing without a hiccup.

Forgive my pride.

First, I turned to self-help books – those trusty cure-alls that had served me well in the past. Atomic Habits, The FlyLady, the latest parenting gurus, and so on – I listened to them all on 1.5 speed. I just needed to stack my habits, establish cleaning routines, and laminate a chart for my toddler, and my problems would be solved! Inside, my brain was a wild, foggy mess.

After that came my 5am discipline – I felt I needed more “me-time”. Despite waking many times in the night to two children, I steeled myself for a few months of 5am water colouring sessions, until my three-year-old got his hands on my life’s work and innocently added his touches. I felt shattered. I gave up on the painting after that – told my husband I needed self-care breaks: pastel yellow manicures and child-free dashes to sit in my car and eat a cheeseburger in peace.

I planned the perfect capsule wardrobe. I decluttered like crazy and labelled everything. I worked on my diet, which up until this point had consisted of a blood-glucose nightmare of dairy-free coffee and Anzac biscuits until dinnertime. I looked up employment and childcare options. Went on holidays. I supplemented with beef liver tablets. I tried morning YouTube workouts and 5am Pilates twice a week.

Months passed and, to my dismay, nothing seemed to bring lasting joy and peace.

My striving seemed to make me more uptight, frazzled, and burnt out than ever. I felt guilty that I couldn’t find the joy in my insanely privileged position – I knew I was blessed.

But God wasn’t finished with me yet.

One day I had a thought – “Life’s all about mindset, isn’t it? Maybe I just need some affirmations.” I thought about what they might be: “I am strong”, “I am patient”, “I can do anything.” They all felt a bit empty – and honestly, untrue.

But slowly, some alternative phrases came to mind – words from the Bible that were applicable to my daily moments. I typed them out and stuck them to the fridge:

• When my inner perfectionist despaired, “I’m no good at this,” I replaced it with: “His strength is made perfect in my weakness,” not in my perfection. (2 Corinthians 12:9)
• When I was stressed about how my child was behaving and parenting from a place of fear, I remembered: “Perfect love casts out fear.” (1 John 4:18)
• When I felt like I was going to snap at my kids, I paused for a second and reminded myself: “A soft answer turns away wrath.” (Proverbs 15:1-2)
• When I felt too tired to keep going: “I can do all things through Christ.” (Philippians 4:13)

It was a slow start. I forgot my verses. I forgot to pause before saying impatient things. But I resolved to “take every thought captive.” Instead of deepening those negative brain pathways, I would create new ones rooted in truth and hope. This is how Jesus faced his darkest temptations in the wilderness.

To the temptation of physical sustenance he said, “Man shall not live by bread alone,” quoting from Deuteronomy (Deuteronomy 8:3). To the temptation of the testing of his relationship with God – of his mortality and God’s plan – he drew from the Psalms and Deuteronomy again (Psalm 91:11–12; Deuteronomy 6:16). To the temptation of power and abundance of possessions, he came back with: “You shall worship the Lord your God and Him only shall you serve” (Deuteronomy 6:13). He knew his Bible cover to cover (so to speak), and he was equipped and ready to pull seemingly obscure passages straight from the hilt.

Slowly, I have added to my spiritual weaponry. Everything I needed could be found in the pages between Genesis 1:1 and Revelation 22:21.

When I feel like I’m ‘wasting my time’: “Do not grow weary in doing good.” (Galatians 6:9)

When I am dissatisfied with my body or appearance: “In His sight we are very precious.” (1 Peter 3:4)

When I feel resentful or feel like I’m doing more than my ‘fair share’: “Love keeps no record of wrongs.” (1 Corinthians 13:5)

I replaced my impatient thoughts while settling my baby to bed with prayers for my children’s spiritual wellbeing. I replaced my Spotify playlists with new ones full of worship songs – hearing my little boy burst out with random lines of praise brings so much joy. I replaced much of my self-help reading with advice from more experienced believing mothers, reading my Bible and spiritual works. I studied what the Bible has to say about parenting, what God expects from mothers. I prayed for wisdom.

How do my outward circumstances look? Very much the same. My kids make just as much mess, they still act out, they still get sick. I have just as many dishes, just as much washing, just as many meals to prepare. My husband is just as busy.

But inside, these simple practices have been utterly transformative.

On a daily basis, I see my own spiritual sanctification in my mundane daily tasks. I feel the calm authority of loving, God-directed discipline in my parenting. I can laugh at the funny moments – or even when milk is tipped into the egg carton and eggs are dropped on the floor. I feel the blessing of God in the squishy hands and wriggly cuddles. I have joy in my marriage, for “two are better than one.” I feel the call of God in my insignificant contributions to the community of believers to which I belong. I feel Him shaping me into a vessel to honour Him. I feel the peace of God in Christ.

So, I keep renewing my mind.

And He keeps renewing me.

“Do not be conformed to this world,

but be transformed by the renewal of your mind,

that by testing you may discern what is the will of God,

what is good and acceptable and perfect.”

Romans 12:2