Monday, March 23, 2009

Being Mommy

Just recently, I found out how attached I am to being a mommy. This weekend, my little guy was at my MIL's house having a blast with them and his cousins. When Sunday morning rolled around and getting ready to go to "work", aka...ministry...we got the dreaded call that parents loathe to get when their kiddos are away. My MIL called and said that he wasn't feeling well and wanted to come home! WHAT? TODAY? But...I have to go to work! My DH is teaching for me...what? That is 1.5 hours away...okay...okay...what do I do? It was this time where I had to not be super mom and rely on others to help me out. My husband drove to get him, my mom came over to take care of him, while we went to church and ministered. The whole time I was franctic about my little guy and the fact that I couldn't be there with him. I think this was when it hit me...I love being a mommy!

So today, with the cooler weather, I decided to stay at home and be a mommy. I'm gonna hang out with him, he is feeling much better by the way. Maybe in my own way I am making up for not being able to care of him yesterday, but in reality...I think I just missed being a mommy and needed a fix.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009


In all of the rushes of my life, I simply cannot express the joy that comes from having a snugglebug morning with my little guy. This morning, all of us woke up chaos ensued. Thinking of the crazy-hecticness of the morning, I was not excited to get started. As I staggared to my coffee pot to pour myself a cup of ever-living-energy...darn half-caff...I noticed a white blanket on the evergreen bushes out my kitchen window! It snowed! YEAH! Finally some relief to the dryness here. Anyways, as the morning moved on, all my little guy wanted to do was snuggle! He got his Thomas the Train blanket I made for him at Christmas, and drug it over to me and said, "Mommy, can we snugglebug?" WELL OF COURSE WE CAN! So we snugglebugged together on the couch, watching kid-shows, reading his new books, and talking! What a morning! Then, looking up I realized that we were going to be late to EVERYTHING matter...I cancelled some know...due to the 1/2 inch snow on the ground ;)...and Aidan and I have planned out our morning together...
Ahhh...I should totally do this more often...take time away from my "TO DO" list and do something on my "NEED TO DO" list!

Monday, March 9, 2009

The Concert

When the house lights dimmed and the concert was about to begin, the mother returned to her seat and discovered that her child was missing! Suddenly, the curtains parted and spotlights focused on the impressive Steinway on stage. In horror, the mother saw her little boy sitting at the keyboard, innocently picking out "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star." At that moment, the great piano master made his entrance, quickly moved to the piano, and whispered in the boy's ear, "Don't quit." "Keep playing." Then, leaning over, Paderewski reached down with his left hand and began filling in a bass part. Soon his right arm reached around to the other side of the child, and he added a running obbligato. Together, the old master and the young novice transformed what could have been a frightening situation into a wonderfully creative experience.

The audience was so mesmerized that they couldn't recall what else the great master played. Only the classic," Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."

Perhaps that's the way it is with God. What we can accomplish on our own is hardly noteworthy. We try our best, but the results aren't always graceful flowing music. However, with the hand of the Master, our life's work can truly be beautiful.

The next time you set out to accomplish great feats, listen carefully. You may hear the voice of the Master, whispering in your ear, "Don't quit." "Keep playing."

May you feel His arms around you and know that His hands are there, helping you turn your feeble attempts into true masterpieces. Remember, God doesn't seem to
call the equipped, rather, He equips the 'called.'

Life is more accurately measured by the lives you touch than by the things you aquire.

I saw this in an email years ago. I thought it was appropriate to say exactly what I and probably many other moms are going through!

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Invisible Mom

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. 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 3 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.