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 phoneand 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 meat all.I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair ofhands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can youopen this?Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm aclock 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, 'Rightaround 5:30, please.'I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and theeyes that studied history and the mind that graduated sum a cum laude- but now they had disappeared into the pean ut butter, never to beseen again. She's going; she's going; she is gone!One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return ofa friend from England ..Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going onand on about the hotel she stayed in.I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together sowell. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself.I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with abeautifully 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 My Dear Friend, with admiration for the great ness of what you arebuilding when no one sees.'In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I woulddiscover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, afterwhich I could pattern my work:No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record oftheir 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 eyesof God saw everything.A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit thecathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving atiny 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 thatwill be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And theworkman replied, 'Because God se es'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 seethe 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 cupcakeyou've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You arebuilding a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it willbecome.'At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not adisease that is erasing my life.It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It isthe antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. Asone of the people who show up at a job that they will never seefinished, to work on something that their name wil l never be on.The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals couldever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willingto sacrifice to that degree.When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friendhe's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom
gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemadepies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and pressesall the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine ora 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 goingto love it there.'As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen ifwe're doing it right.And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not onlyat what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to theworld by the sacrifices of invisible women.Great Job, MOM!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 becauseof our perseverance.
Ski Buddies
9 years ago
