Speaking from the Heart

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 a mom is on the phone and interrupt. Inside a mom is thinking, “Can't you see I'm on the phone?'” Obviously, not! No one can see if a mom is on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on her head in the corner, because no one can see her at all. She's The Invisible Mom.

Some days she's only a pair of hands, nothing more: “Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?” Some days she's not a pair of hands; she's not even a human being. She's a clock to ask, “What time is it?” or she's a satellite dish to answer, “What number is the Disney Channel?” or she's a taxi, “I’ll need to be picked up at 2:30”.

One night, a group of her friends were having dinner, celebrating the return of a mutal friend. The friend just had gotten back from a fabulous trip to Europe and was going on and on about the wonderful trip she had. The mom was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for herself. She was feeling pretty pathetic, when her friend turned to her with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, “I bought this for you.” It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. She wasn't exactly sure why her friend had given it to her until she read her inscription: “My dear friend, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.”

In the days ahead the mom would read the book and she would discover what would become for her, four life-changing truths, after which she could pattern my life:

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.

The mom closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if she heard God whispering to her, “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, 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.”