Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Perspective

More importantly having the right perspective. The Godly perspective. I will admit I struggle with this more often than is right. I don't know why. I know what my calling is. So, why is it such a struggle?

Ultimately I think it comes down to feeling "used" or "unappreciated". Not that we are being used, but we feel like we do so much and it just goes unnoticed and our needs aren't recognized. I have to pray daily for God to change my perspective and give me the right attitude during the day. I know I am blessed to be able to stay home with our children. I am so thankful for that and I don't wish for anything else.

However, I want to show my children the correct way to serve and that is to do it regardless of whether there is thanks involved or not. Our strength comes from God. Our reward is in knowing we are raising children for Him and we are keeping house for His glory. Not ours.

Around Mothers Day I received an email. It's one that I receive periodically. It was such a wonderful blessing and reminder to me so I wanted to share it with you today.

For all the moms who feel that their efforts and labor goes unnoticed or is done in vain....God knows. God sees. God is blessed and honored when we do these things cheerfully. Our reward and thanks may never be found here on earth, but in heaven.

So, until then I will continue on doing what He has called me to do, and I'll be working on doing it cheerfully all the time!

(and I'll hope for a "thanks" or "good job" along the way!)

Enjoy the article below which was taken from an email ezine I received.

Mother you are appreciated...

Mother’s day is just around the corner and I thought I would drop all my subscribers a short note!

So often we get bogged down in the diaper-change-wipe-nose-feed-toddler-routine that we forget to take some time to realize that we are doing one of the greatest jobs imaginable.

If you have chosen to stay at home with your little one there is not much, usually, to show for how your time is spent and there is definitely not a pay check waiting for you at the end of the month!

But while others go out to build careers or businesses, you too are building a future in your children by being there for them and by spending time with them, training them and well, just being mommy!

So may I just encourage you, mom, by saying – “Mother, you are appreciated!”

And a last thought for you:

Invisible Mother...... (Annon)

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 me a question.

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 sum a cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going; she's going; she is 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 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.

Until next time
Wendy


1 comment:

Southern girl in New Hampshire said...

Thanks Steph. That is good to hear when you are in the thick of it!!!