Today’s Scriptures:
Philippians 2:12-14
Do Everything Without Grumbling
12 Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, 13 for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose. 14 Do everything without grumbling or arguing,
Colossians 1:10-11
10 so that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, 11 being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience,
You may be wondering where I went for the last few days…well, I was sick, tired, and bitter that I was the only one working around the house- feeling like everyone’s maid! Guess what? When bitterness sets in…so does writers block…at least when you are trying to create a message for the Lord that is! Funny or not, it is true…and another confession I must make to the world. I am tired of feeling like everyone’s maid, and after all sometimes I think my husband and daughter think I like being the maid or something. Then I decided it was just their lack of respect for me and what I do around this house, and in some ways I’m sure it probably is. But, in God’s eyes it really doesn’t matter because I should be doing it for Him and His glory not for kudos from my family. I tried to even look up scripture that would justify my bitterness, and of course THERE ISN’T ANY!!! The Lord just has a way of putting us down in a time out chair and giving us a good scolding doesn’t He! So I think today’s scriptures pretty much says it all…do things without grumbling, have great endurance and patience, and living a life worthy of the Lord will bear good fruit. Amazing that I found these scriptures in a matter of seconds and I spent an hour yesterday looking for just one scripture to agree with my angry stubbornness over my simply life of cleaning, cooking, and picking up everyone’s stuff. I needed to look around and see some real problems others face, like cancer or the total life devastation of those still suffering in Japan since the recent earthquake/tsunami. I suppose it is easy to just get caught up in our own problems and wallow in our “me” moment, before we snap out of it and realize what we do have each morning we wake up to a new day! I knew God wasn’t into my bitterness, but I had to live it out for the time being in order to appreciate today a little more. Life is too short to waste precious time on being bitter, plain and simple! My cousin sent me this via email, and I don’t know who wrote it to give them credit, but it is quite appropriate and I’m sure if you are the do it all Mom, then you will relate J Please take the time to read the story below, you will feel better about the sacrifice you make each day for your family!!
The Invisible Mother
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.'
Some days I'm a crystal ball; 'Where's my other sock? Where's my
phone? What's for dinner?'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the
eyes that studied history, music and literature -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. She 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
she 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: 'With
admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
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.'
Some days I'm a crystal ball; 'Where's my other sock? Where's my
phone? What's for dinner?'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the
eyes that studied history, music and literature -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. She 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
she 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: '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: 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.
A story of legend 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. I see the sacrifices
you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness
discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after
which I could pattern my work: 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.
A story of legend 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. 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, no Cub Scout meeting, no last minute errand 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.
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 monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then,
if there is anything more to say to his friend, he'd say, '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 mothers.
baked, no Cub Scout meeting, no last minute errand 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.
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 monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then,
if there is anything more to say to his friend, he'd say, '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 mothers.
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