What a morning! To say that Sunday mornings are challenging in this house would not come close to truely explaining the chaos that has become our routine. No matter if clothes are laid out, diaper bags packed, kids to bed early, or adults up early the insanity is still sure to ensue. So you can imagine the task at hand with the hubs out of town!
It amazes me that the minute the kids find themself saying goodbye to Jason they turn towards me and give a eerie chuckle. :) I am joking of course, well partly anyway. I tend to tell myself I am in control most of the time but this is always tested when he goes out of town. Usually he returns to find me tied up like I am Captain Hook or something...the kids dancing around me with their faces painted and hollaring chants. Ok, well maybe not but I do fear it may happen one day! Anyhow, Elizabeth is my biggest "tester". Usually I can get my bluf in on Benjamin early...although Lizzie is becoming a more avid recruiter as she grows. (You should know I was just interupted by Lizzie up out of bed...an hour after I put her there). So today was no surprise to be tested from the get-go!
I was so proud of myself as I laid out matching outfits for the kids last night. I thought to myself "I am going to do this, just me, all dressed cute, matching, AND we are going to be on time." STRIKE 1- OVERCONFIDENT. Don't get me wrong I believe confidence is a great asset but really??? OK, so we get to church, LATE, but before communion so not terribly late. We have to trudge all the way to the front to find a seat :( STRIKE 2- Seriously Sarah...remember the balcony! We make it through a couple of songs and Isaac starts getting restless and I am not really sure what set Elizabeth off but once that spiral starts you might as well prepare for ANYTHING to happen. She was arguing and deliberatly disobeying, loudly of course. She finally yelled "I want to go to childrens church" right in the middle of communion..of course that was inbetween Isaacs screams. STRIKE 3- I end up dragging all 3 kids back down the isle during communion to get onto Lizzie and "control", for lack of a better term, of the situation. Elizabeth did get in trouble, which extended to when we got home. I did send her to childrens church. Jesus said he wants the little children to come to him and I was more than glad to send her to him! lol! Of course with threats of you better be good! A fine example of a "stompin' Grounds" if I do say so myself!
Ahh, I love my kids so very much. Sometimes I just feel like I am not getting through at all. Sometimes I feel like I am failing, invisible, and that my influence is completly undetectable. I wonder if God feels that way with us at times. I am sure he must. A friend of mine sent the article below to me some time back. I love it. What a wonderful reminder of my purpose. What a great way to refocus my life. I become so self-absorbed, so self-centered. I can't wait to see what "cathedrals" will become of my children. I eagerly (and patiently, as I enjoy them so much at this age) await the many beautiful things they will add to this world and to other peoples lives.
Cathedrals
I Am Invisible. 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.
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 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 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:
(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.
(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 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.
God Bless You as you build your Cathedrals!
