Are Mothers Invisible?

This is one of those stories that someone sent to me - that just needs repeating. During the summertime, moms are under-appreciated for all the time they spend raising and nuturing children. This is just a reminder to hang in there. Your "PayDay" will come.

I'm 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 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. 

 

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.

The Button-Pushers Are Coming

It is summer time.

That means children are home.

All day.

Fortunately, or unfortunately

(depends on how you look at it),

I no longer have kids at home.

But my children do.

All day.

And my grandchildren are very good.

At knowing which buttons to push. 

That drive their parents crazy!

All day.

The "button-pushers" will be coming.

Soon.

To my house.

The question - will they push my buttons?

Or does Grandma know how.

To reverse the practice - of pushing their buttons.

All Day?

BBBbbbe Incredible!

OK - I don't know who wrote this, and I copied this from my cousin, Kip's, newsletter - who got it from our Aunt Alberta. So Aunt Alberta - if you know the author of this, please email me or put the info in the comment section and I will make the changes. And as Kip did, I am taking liberty to change a few things!!

One annoying trait that society in general heaps on our heads  is  the consistent  and constant haranguing  of how you should be. Be nice, be happy, be smart, be clean, be on time. Some people want you to be different; others encourage you to be the same as everyone else. We should be productive and never be lazy. We all want to be interesting and to be fun. A boy scout is expected to be trustworthy, loyal, helpful, brave, and so on. Even the army tells you to "be all that you can be." 

These expectations aren't bad, because they help us to strive to keep improving. The danger is that this word "be" is at the very heart of who we are. When we are told how to be, our very being is therefore challenged…as if we are not good enough. This tends to wear away at our self worth until we don't feel that we will ever be good enough. We need to be taught instead, that we are beings of infinite worth--no matter what you choose to be or not be at any moment in time. Out of 7 billion people in the world, lets face it, you are one of a kind. No one else has the combination of thoughts, physical attributes, creative ideas, and abilities that is uniquely you. Your very present you is a result of chemical, electrical,  and biological processes that are united with an actual spiritual being that gives you life.  This is  nothing short of miraculous. 

Your mind is capable of storing, sorting, instantly recalling, and evaluating billions of bits of information--more than any computer on the planet. You can train your body and your mind to synchronize perfectly in order to perform amazing feats, anything from climbing a mountain to playing the piano to sending a text message or painting a masterpiece. You can reason and dream and create new ideas, and coupled with this spiritual you, in short, your value is immeasurable and with the right choices nothing will be impossible to you. The value of making correct choices cannot be underestimated.

With this in mind, please don't ever let the daily grind and endless expectations of life make you feel depressed or worthless. Take time every day to celebrate you. Set aside expectations or conditions and simply revel in the joy of your existence--just be.

With all of the things you are expected to be, it's a good idea to set them aside once in a while to just be…just celebrate the fact that you exist and have infinite worth. In other words ...Stop and smell the roses as well as enjoy the beauty that surrounds you daily and then choose. 

I myself would rather smell the roses even if they have thorns. When looking for the negative and the ugly things in the world - it will be easy to find them. But if your attitude is to BE around all that is BEautiful, it will surely come in simple wondrous moments.

Out of Town Till July

If you wondered why I havne't posted anything, it is because I am in NYC for my internship. Head on over to www.annbytesthebigapple.blogspot.com  if you want to know what is happening in my life right now.

My Six Month Check-up

Every six months my church has General Conference. It is a time when we hear counsel from our Church leaders, including our Prophet, Thomas S. Monson. The first weekend in April and October, two, two-hour sessions are held on both Saturday and Sunday.

They are wonderful weekends in which the Spirit of the Lord nourishes my heart and soul through the words of inspired men and women who speak to us.

Every time I am reminded of my purpose on earth, and that we are sons and daughters of a loving Heavenly Father who is mindful of us. I am encouraged as I listen and contemplate areas in my life that need course corrections. As our Prophets speak of Jesus Christ our Savior, the Spirit testifies to me that what they proclaim is true. I feel blessed with this knowledge.

I feel peace and joy in listening and learning how to follow and become more like my Savior. I look forward to filling my spiritual reservoir.

There is a children's hymn that we sing called Follow the Prophet. This is the last verse and chorus line, maybe it will resonate with you and you will want to listen to a Prophet too:

Now we have a world where people are confused.
If you don’t believe it, go and watch the news.
We can get direction all along our way,
If we heed the prophets—follow what they say.

Chorus
Follow the prophet, follow the prophet,
Follow the prophet; don’t go astray.
Follow the prophet, follow the prophet,
Follow the prophet; he knows the way.

Words and music: Duane E. Hiatt, b. 1937. © 1989 IRI

". . . as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings"

Today when I woke up, the skies were dark and stormy. The affairs of the world have been dark and stormy too. The first thing I wanted to do was call my children, to tell them I love them, to reassure myself that they are OK. But more than anything I wanted to gather them together under my wings, to protect them from the bruising realities of life. When my children turned 18 – they wanted to leave and venture out into the world. At the time I was OK with that. They needed those experiences which would help define who they are.

But now, I want them home, with all their baggage and dependents in tow. I want to protect them and shield them from the realities that cause pain and suffering. I want them to feel safe.

In the scriptures we read often the Savior using the analogy of gathering His people as a hen gathers her chickens under her wings. It was especially powerful to me when reading in the Book of Mormon, 3 Nephi 10: 1-6, as the Savior speaks to the people in the America’s after His resurrection - promising to gather His people as a hen gathers her chickens - to be nourished and protected.

Because the world is dark and stormy, I want to remind my children that if they cannot gather under my wings, they can always seek after our Savior. He loves you even more, and I will meet you there, under his wings, to be nourished and strengthened with His love.

Melting Pot

This past week I have been printing out papers and collateral pieces that I have written in preparation for graduation. I have to assemble them into a "learning portfolio" that is turned into the Communications Department in which they use for accreditation purposes.

When I read over past papers that I have written, I think to myself , "This is quite good!" For some reason it shocks me that I had such control over the words in conveying a message. At the conclusion of a paper I wrote on "Diversity in the Media," during my first semester back at school, I still feel satisfied at these thoughts:

“Many refer to our nation as a melting pot of different people and nationalities.  Yet, the reality is that the majority of people have not “melted” or assimilated into one flavor, they have retained their sense of identity.  With truthful representation and active contributions to media content, minorities can honorably continue to enrich our country’s legacy. 

Rather than become a melting pot, why not empty our pockets of color into the pot, so that we can easily identify each diverse color and people, and appreciate how it flavors our nation.”

Today, I am writing two more papers on diversity - on how the Internet impacts cultures and individual identity and the benefits of diversity in the Public Relations industry. After all I have read, my conclusion in that first research paper three years ago is still true.