A nice read for you mamas out there...

A friend sent this to me. Thought I'd share. I think every mom feels like this at some point!

Laurie 

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Invisible Mothers...

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack ofresponse, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on thephone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'mon 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 noone can see me at all. I'm invisible. The Invisible Mom.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can youfix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?  Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a humanbeing. 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 theeyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but nowthey had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She'sgoing, she's going, she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating thereturn of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabuloustrip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sittingthere, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard notto compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, whenJanice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I broughtyou this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactlysure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'To Charlotte, withadmiration 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-changingtruths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the greatcathedrals. We have no record of their names. These builders gave their wholelives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices andexpected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faiththat the eyes of God saw everything. A legendary story in the book told of arich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw aworkman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and askedthe 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 the workman replied,'Because God sees.'

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall intoplace. 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. Noact 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 greatcathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.' At times, myinvisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasingmy life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is theantidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I seemyself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that theywill 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 bebuilt in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice tothat degree. When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell thefriend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey forthree hours'. That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. Ijust want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to sayto his friend, to add, 'You're going to love it there.' As mothers, we arebuilding great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And oneday, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we havebuilt, but also at the beauty that has been added to the world by thesacrifices of invisible women.