A Forward Now A Post....Invisible

I received this sweet story in an e-mail about two weeks ago from a friend and then again from my future sister-in-law today. I thought it was worth posting (seeing as I am not really in the writing mood these days). As a mother of a toddler who cannot clearly define what I "accomplish" each day, this really hit home and encouraged me...

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.

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 as I looked down at my out-of-style dress;it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a hair clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. 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 t." 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 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.

Great Job, MOM

Prayers Needed

I've run across this family's blog: http://www.conorbootheandgirls.blogspot.com/

Please click on the link, read about their sweet family and precious newborn, Copeland. She will most likely be going home to Heaven soon. While I do not know them, my heart and spirit have been burdened for them over the past few days. Please join me in praying for them.

A Sign of Things to Come?

This afternoon, as I was on the ump-teenth trip into Garrett's room during his supposed nap time to answer his sweetness' requests, I was delighted to hear this request:

G: Mommy, my diap-uh hoits me. I need to take this diap-uh off, Mommy.

M: Okay, we can take your diaper off but what will you wear instead?

G: I will not wu-eh anything, Mommy. I will go sit on my potty and let the tee-tees and poo-poos come out.

So, as fast as I could, I tore that thing off and let him lead the way. Garrett actually SAT on the potty. Now, some of you may be thinking "big deal". Let me just stop you right there in your thought process. This is HUGE for our little man because he has NEVER wanted to sit on the potty or even stand near it for the purpose of putting anything in it. And NEVER has he led me to the potty himself. Back in the Great Potty Training Expedition of this Spring I always had to bribe him or convince him to at least sit on the throne.

But not today. Today, he sat on the potty and chatted about all of the things that might happen while sitting there. One might think that I was disappointed that the little man produced nothing, but that fool would be mistaken. I was so ecstatic with Garrett prompting me to go and sit on the potty. Never mind the fact that it all could have been a ploy to get himself out of nap time. Who cares? Not this momma!

I am going to be cautiously optimistic that there is a future full of potties and big boy underwear!! And I am going to pray that it will all happen and be done with by the end of this year. Seriously. Either I am over-aiming or under-shooting. I am not really sure what to do next other than encourage him and continue to allow him to take the lead. Any other ideas??

Happy Heart!

No story, no tale. Just a picture of a little man with a very happy heart.

Untitled so as to not scare or surprise or mislead anyone.....

I know that when I say I am long overdue with a post and pictures and stories of 3 year old birthdays and parties, it is an understatement. I apologize. I will catch up soon. Until then, enjoy this little story Garrett shared with his Daddy at bedtime tonight:

G: Daddy, Daddy! Come he-uh (here)!

Garrett was already in bed

D: What buddy?

G: He-uh (here) she comes, Daddy! He-uh comes my baby sist-uh out of my be-wee (belly)!

D: chuckle, chuckle

G: He-uh comes baby "G" (he used a real name of a little girl that can be found here)! She is comin' out of my be-wee!

Funny thing is, no talk of siblings or future siblings or pregnancies or ANYTHING related to babies happened today. I got a huge laugh out of this one. Hope someone else does, too!