jlfree25
Steelers Fan 4-life
Got this in an e-mail and thought I would share it.
>> 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.'
>>
>> I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes
>> that studied history and the mind that graduated suma cum laude - but now
>> they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again.
>> She's
>> going; she's going; she is 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. 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
>> because
>> of our perseverance.
>> 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.'
>>
>> I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes
>> that studied history and the mind that graduated suma cum laude - but now
>> they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again.
>> She's
>> going; she's going; she is 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. 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
>> because
>> of our perseverance.
