Invisible Mom's

Someone sent me this story, and I really enjoyed it, so I thought it was blog worthy.


Sometimes we need to be reminded of what we arebuilding.....

It all began to make sense, the blank stares,the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walkinto the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be takento the store.
Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'Obviously, not.
No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, orsweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in thecorner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am onlya pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can youtie this? Can you open this?
Som e days I'm not a pair of hands;I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask,'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer,'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm acar to order,'Right around 5:30, please.'
I was certain that these were the hands thatonce held books and the eyes that studied history andthe mind that graduated sum a cum laude - but now they haddisappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seenagain. She's going; she's going; she is gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner,Celebrating the return of a friend from England ...Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she wasgoing on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I wassitting there, looking around at the others all put togetherso well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry formyself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turnedto me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'Ibrought you this.' It was a book on the greatcathedrals of Europe.I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to meuntil I read her inscription:
'To Charlotte , with admiration for thegreatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book.And I would discover what would become forme, four life-changing truths, after which I couldpattern my work:
No one can say who built the great cathedrals- we have no record of their names.
These builders gave their whole lives for awork they would never see finished.
They made great sacrifices and expected nocredit.
The passion of their building was fueled bytheir faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a richman who came to visit the cathedral while it was beingbuilt, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the insideof a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why areyou spending so much time carving that bird into a beam thatwill be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.'And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piecefall into place.
It was almost as if I heard God whispering tome, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices youmake every day, even when no one around you does. No act ofkindness you've done, no sequin you've sewnon, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me tonotice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, butyou can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But itis not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the curefor the disease of my own self-centeredness.It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a greatbu ilder. As one of the people who show up ata job that they will never see finished, to work onsomething that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to saythat no cathedrals could ever be built in ourlifetime because there are so few people willing tosacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don'twant my son to tell the friend he's bringing home fromcollege for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in themorning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastesa turkey for three hours and presses all the linens forthe table.'That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument tomyself. I just want him to want to come home.And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend,to add, 'you're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals.We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And oneday, it is very possible that the wo rld will marvel, not onlyat what we have built, but at the beauty that has beenadded to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Great Job, MOM!
Share this with all the Invisible Moms youknow...I just did.
Hope this encourages you when the going getstough as it sometimes does.
We never know what our finished products willturn out to be because of our perseverance.