homecook
01-26-2009, 08:32 PM
My dd just sent this to me. I just wanted to share...
The Invisible Mother......
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one
of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be
taken to 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, or sweeping the floor, or
even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands,
nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? & Can you open this?
Some 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 a car to order, 'Right
around 5:30, please.'
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 was going on and on
about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others
all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself.
I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully
wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe .
I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her
inscription:
'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness 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 for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern
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 a work they would never see finished.
They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God
saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the
cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on
the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you
spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will 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 piece fall into place. It was almost as
if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices
you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness
you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked,
is
too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral,
but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease
that is erasing my life.
It is the cure for 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 great builder. As one of
the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on
something that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be
built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to
that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my daughter to tell the friend
she's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4
in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she
hand bastes a turkey for
three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean
I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want her to want to come
home. And then, if there is anything more to say to her friend, to add,
'you're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot see if we're doing
it right.
And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what
we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the
sacrifices of invisible women.
Great Job, MOM!
Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know...I just did.
Hope this encourages you when the going gets tough as it sometimes does. We
never know what our finished products will turn out to be because of our
perseverance.
The Invisible Mother......
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one
of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be
taken to 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, or sweeping the floor, or
even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands,
nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? & Can you open this?
Some 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 a car to order, 'Right
around 5:30, please.'
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 was going on and on
about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others
all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself.
I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully
wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe .
I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her
inscription:
'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness 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 for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern
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 a work they would never see finished.
They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God
saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the
cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on
the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you
spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will 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 piece fall into place. It was almost as
if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices
you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness
you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked,
is
too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral,
but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease
that is erasing my life.
It is the cure for 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 great builder. As one of
the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on
something that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be
built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to
that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my daughter to tell the friend
she's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4
in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she
hand bastes a turkey for
three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean
I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want her to want to come
home. And then, if there is anything more to say to her friend, to add,
'you're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot see if we're doing
it right.
And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what
we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the
sacrifices of invisible women.
Great Job, MOM!
Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know...I just did.
Hope this encourages you when the going gets tough as it sometimes does. We
never know what our finished products will turn out to be because of our
perseverance.