I do have to confess...the past week has disappeared a vast blurr. One of my best friends children was admitted to the hospital for surgery (he is recovering well at home now!), my best friend Sarah had a scare with her 5 week old son and had to take him to the hospital as well. My community group leader from church landed in the hospital in Arizona with heart and lung issues.
Then you throw in my ordinary (well MY ordinary!) regular day to day life which consists of dance classes, school, errands, tending to a husband, 3 children, 1 cat, 2 fish and 1 frog. Cleaning the house, baby shower for one of my other best friends (remember there are 5 girls you can read about in my bio!), an anniversary party for the great grandparents, some sort of social life with friends, toss in a few business orders and closing a Pampered Chef Party (did I tell y'all I have been a consultant for 6 years?! lol) this week has vanished. Poof. It's gone!
Today I am excited to say my 3 amazing children let me sleep in until 7:40 a.m. (a very rare treat!). My sweet baby girl let me have a 6 hour stretch and my 2 oldest aresomewhat sharing while watching their morning cartoons (bad mom alert..I know! lol!). The sun is shining, the windows will be opened to let in the warm breeze and I will play like you have never played before with my tiny blessings! We will embrace this day and I get to focus on 1 thing...my favorite thing...being their mom.
A friend in my Mom's Club forwarded out this story and I had to share it. Too good not to! I hope y'all have a wonderful day and don't you fret...I WILL be back full force very soon!
"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.”
Some days I'm a crystal ball; “Where's my other sock?, Where's my phone?, What's
for dinner?”
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that
studied history, music and literature -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. She 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 she 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: “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:
1.) No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their
names.
2.) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see
finished.
3.) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
4.) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God
saw everything.
A story of legend 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. 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, no Cub Scout meeting, no last minute errand 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.
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 four 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
monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is
anything more to say to his friend, he'd say, “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 others."
Then you throw in my ordinary (well MY ordinary!) regular day to day life which consists of dance classes, school, errands, tending to a husband, 3 children, 1 cat, 2 fish and 1 frog. Cleaning the house, baby shower for one of my other best friends (remember there are 5 girls you can read about in my bio!), an anniversary party for the great grandparents, some sort of social life with friends, toss in a few business orders and closing a Pampered Chef Party (did I tell y'all I have been a consultant for 6 years?! lol) this week has vanished. Poof. It's gone!
Today I am excited to say my 3 amazing children let me sleep in until 7:40 a.m. (a very rare treat!). My sweet baby girl let me have a 6 hour stretch and my 2 oldest are
A friend in my Mom's Club forwarded out this story and I had to share it. Too good not to! I hope y'all have a wonderful day and don't you fret...I WILL be back full force very soon!
"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.”
Some days I'm a crystal ball; “Where's my other sock?, Where's my phone?, What's
for dinner?”
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that
studied history, music and literature -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. She 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 she 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: “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:
1.) No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their
names.
2.) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see
finished.
3.) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
4.) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God
saw everything.
A story of legend 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. 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, no Cub Scout meeting, no last minute errand 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.
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 four 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
monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is
anything more to say to his friend, he'd say, “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 others."
