"The invisible Mother"

A friend of mine shared this with me a while ago.  I was feeling particularly exhausted and done for that day, and was in tears by the time I finished the last line.  I thought I would share it with you today as it blessed me. 

My sweet babies!

 

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.'

Some days I'm a crystal ball; 

Where's my other sock?, 

Where's my phone?, 

What's for dinner?'

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that 

studied history, music and literature --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 . She 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 she 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:

'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: 1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of 

their names. 2) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would 

never see finished. 3) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. 4) The 

passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw 

everything.

A story of legend 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. 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, no Cub Scout meeting, no last- minute errand 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.'

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 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 3 hours and 

presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built 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, he'd say, '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 mothers."

 -Author Unknown

xoxo

Evey Owner/Creator, Evey's Creations Tel: 201-281-6696  http://sweetsongbird.eveyscreations.com FB: www.facebook.com/EveysCreations G+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/105370121686355288267/posts Twitter: @EveysCreations Instagram: @EveysCreations Hometalk: http://www.hometalk.com/eveya