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To All of the Invisible Moms

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  • To All of the Invisible Moms

    Thought I'd share this with all of's long but definitely worth the read!

    The Invisible Mom

    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. '

    I was certain that these were the hands that once held books
    and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa
    cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never
    to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's 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 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 close d 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 nam e 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 son to tell the
    friend he'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 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 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.
    The will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you.

    Faith is believing in advance what already makes sense in retrospect. O:-)

    'Do not ask the Lord to Guide your Footsteps if you are not willing to move your Feet'

  • #2
    Well said, we all have been there, and Happy Mother's Day to all of us after reading this. I guess we never stop worry or caring even after adulthood. That's our job.


    • #3
      Beautiful - it brought tears to my eyes.

      Thank you


      • #4
        That was so touching. Thanks for posting it. I passed it on to my own daughter who's a mom now, and I know she will love it.