If you are a Mother, I want to wish you abundant blessings. But not for only today. You might need them more next week when you have to dust the cards you were given. Or even in a few days while you wash all the clothes your family wore to the picnic they made for you. Or you might need them tomorrow when you have a cook again.
I have mixed feelings this Mother's Day morning. I spent yesterday in battle with two of my teenagers. It felt like a tag team. They weren't working together - I don't think, but who ever was in the room was in conflict with me and my husband. THEN, because I love them I stayed up to 1 am to finish the laundry they needed (but wouldn't get to me all week) for the band trip that leaves at 8:30 am this morning. I was angry, sore and hurt ... but I couldn't fathom NOT doing the laundry. I felt like the 100's of times I do the laundry would get lost in the one time I didn't.
So ... not to be a downer for you. I awoke this morning and remembered an email my brother sent me many, many months ago that I saved because it makes me cry and then it makes me keep going. And that's what I need today ... to keep on keeping on.
I searched the Internet to find the author. It is an excerpt from Nicole Johnson's novel The Invisible Woman (W Publishing Group, 2005). For more information, check out the author's Web site at www.freshbrewedlife.com. Or check her out on this YouTube clip.
It is long and I apologize, but read it anyway. It will greatly bless your soul ... especially if you are a mom!
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?'
