Tuesday, October 02, 2007

I Guess This Blog is Just for Me!

A week or so ago Terry changed a few things on my blog. Consequently, my new post (notice I didn't say posts) hasn't shown up on any blog reader. That means the only people who are now checking in here are my friends who generally don't comment. That's okay, I still love y'all because you call me and tell me you care. And read. You know who you are. Because you lived in Corinth with me. Amy. and Michelle. And Holly. and Richelle.

But I digress. The point is this: I suddenly feel kind of free to post what I want without worrying about who is reading it. Since my friends really know me and all. And there is nothing controversial about what I am about to post or anything, but since no one is really reading I can ramble all I want. So there.

This is for all of the moms out there...

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. (personally I think they can see, and that's why they have chosen this moment to need you. )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, "Pick me up 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

My Unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana 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: 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.

Being a mom is sometimes so hard and frustrating. And I thank God every day I get to do it! Whew! That was a long post. Thank God for copy and paste.


Susie said...

This is great Robin. I have a friend I am giving this to right now. She really needs it after her last post. Not that I don't need it either, because I do. Anyway, now I'm rambling.

Amanda said...

Wow. I really needed this today. Before I got out of bed this morning, I laid there praying about the day, the challenges, the arguments my children will have and my patience. Thank you for this. It really blessed me.

PEZmama said...

I didn't live you in Corinth, but I am reading!

This was a great post - it hits so much stuff that I have been wrestling with lately. Thanks for sharing it.

Barb @ A Chelsea Morning said...

I was seeing a problem with your blog in my bloglines so I decided to run over and see what's up. I still don't know what's up but at least I know to click over here whether I'm seeing a new post in bloglines or not.

I love this. I especially love the end, where the important thing is that the son wants to come home. I couldn't agree more. If they love to come home, you know you're doing something right.

Not too sure about getting up at 4 a.m. to bake pies, though. Nope. Not sure about that at all.

Molly Coddled said...

Heeey! what? I thought you were on a long vacation or something. Your URL has changed too. I'll resubscribe and see what happens. I NEED to be able to keep up with you.

You house is just beautiful. Really beautiful!

Tori said...

Hey Robin,

We don't know each other but I do read you blog often. I found you because my husband read your husbands blog and we went to the same church.

Now I read your blog for a few reasons. One, I am now a pastors wife, my husband was hired by FC in May. It has been a transition and I often read to find inspiration in this area. The other is because I enjoy your post. I am notorious for visiting and not leaving comments so I apologize :-)

Your post today really hit home with me in a different way than your fellow readers, you see we do not have children and have been praying to the Lord to bless us for almost five years now. I am feeling sorry for myself today because of that but I too have cathedrals to build, they just come in others forms.

Keep up the good work!

jimmy paravane said...

Just when you thought it was safe...oh nevermind. I'll go back to bothering Terry on his blog. (grin)
I kinda know what a feed is. It's one of those newfangled things the kids came up with because they're too busy to use good old fashioned bookmarks to go to somebody's blog every day and see what's up. But I'm old. I do the bookmark thing. When I'm really bored, I click on all the hyperlink names of the commenters to find new people to bother. I'd ask if you mind if I lurk, but I always thought that sounded so stalky-creepy. People are funny. They sometimes think a blog is the key to fame, when for most of us, it's just an open invitation to the online equivalent of our living room on the day we decide to lounge around in our sloppy pajamas. I have nothing better to do than write this stuff. My life is pathetic. (grin)