After my last post I got so many wonderful comments, phone calls, texts, and emails that really uplifted me. I am truly thankful to be surrounded by such supportive, strong, understanding, loving, and sensitive women!
Here are two things that were emailed to me that I wanted to post for all to enjoy. Thanks to Shyla and Sarah for sending them to me.
"Invisible Moms"
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 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 Carol , 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 daughter to tell
the friend she'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 her to want to come home. And then,
if there is anything more
to say to her 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..
And this is a great quote from Sheri Dew:
"Here is the truth about womanhood. Our Father gave His daughters a divine endowment
of gifts that give us unique influence. First and foremost, we have the high privilege of
bearing children. If mortality is the time in all eternity to prove ourselves, then there is
nothing more important than bearing children and leading them along the path home.
President David O. McKay said that, 'motherhood is the greatest potential influence . . .
in human life'(Improvement Era, 1953, 452).
Our Father also gifted us with the nature to nurture, keen sensitivity to the Spirit,
selflessness, discernment, and heroic faith. No wonder our Father placed us at the heart of
the family and thus at the center of the plan of salvation. We are the Lord’s secret
weapon. Pre-mortally, when our Father described our role, we must have shouted for joy
because of the ennobling stature He gave women in His kingdom. The world won’t tell us
this stunning truth, but the Spirit will."
Love you girls!
