Happy Mother's Day

Being a mother is the toughest, most challenging and the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me. I am so humbled that the Lord would entrust nine souls to my care. Sometimes I wonder why He thinks I'm so capable, and then I remember I indeed am not capable on my own but with Him all things become possible. It is only when I forget this and try to go it alone that I start to really crumble under the weight of it all. These children are definately a huge part of my path to holiness; I am more humble, faithful and trusting in the Lord because of them. Although my heart still grieves for my beautiful babies Taylor, Catherine and Max that I will never hold in my arms this side of Heaven, I am consoled by knowing they fulfilled their purpose and are enjoying the rewards of Heaven and are being held in the arms of Our Blessed Mother until I can again be with them. Thank you Lord for the gift of motherhood; I'm so glad I've said yes to life.

Today I also remember all the amazing mothers in my life. To Our Blessed Mother- I thank you for choosing life; may I be more and more like you as you bring me closer to your son Jesus. To my mother- thank you for choosing life for without that gift and all your sacrifices, I would not be who I am today. I love you and thank God for our friendship. To my mother-in-law - thank you for choosing life for without you I wouldn't be married to the most wonderful husband and father a woman could ask for, and thank you for all your support and encouragement through the good and tough times. To my fellow mothers in the trenches- thank you for all your sacrifices, wisdom, support and encouragement and ultimately making the trenches not so lonely. Happy Mother's Day to you all. I hope you enjoy this little story as much as I did.

The Invisible Mother (author unknown)

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.