Here is some encouragement for all you mums out there. Enjoy.

To all moms, to those who aspire to be one...and to those who feel
this way about their moms....that should about cover it....

This just touches me so much. And I had to share it with a couple of
the
best "invisible moms" that I know:

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 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!

Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know... I just did.

The Will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will
not
protect you.