The Case of the Invisible Mother

A few week's ago, at my sister's baby shower, I heard a story read about a mother who was suffering from a common problem (or I believe it to be common): the case of the Invisible Mother.  This mother went on to say that she had found peace from a book a friend had given to her about the great cathedrals in Europe.  In the story the (childless) friend had said that this mother reminded her of the builders of the great cathedrals.  No one knows their names, no one knows anything about who they were, but they built amazing places that to this day bring glory to God and wonder to people.  The "invisible" mother had found some comfort: she was building cathedrals for God through her children, even if no one noticed her work and sacrifice. 

I have been thinking about this ever since.  See, I know my mom suffers from Invisible Mother Syndrome.  Sometimes we talk about it - more often we don't - and I know there are so many times when a "thank you" or "I love you" would have gone a long way but instead I ran out the door with a "good-bye!" or an "I'll see you later." 

My mom and I have had our share of conflicts.  After all, don't all mothers and daughters feel frustrated with each other at some point or another?  But to be honest with you, I have far more good memories than bad with my mama.  Sure, maybe we argued the morning I was moving to college, but didn't she cry harder than I did when we said goodbye at my dorm room door?  And maybe I felt frustrated that she didn't seem to understand why I was so upset with my professor, but when the letter from home came a couple days later in the mail it was just what I needed.  Moms usually do know just what we need, don't they?

And when I think of how my mom must feel invisible so much of the time, it blows my mind.  Because to me, you see, she is very visible.  Every time my older sisters sing I hear Mama's voice.  When my brothers (and sisters, for that matter) talk about the desire for justice, I hear Mama's words.  When Ginny and Timmy talk about "my Jesus," or sing Gospel songs in the car - well that's Mama for you, right there.  My sister holding her arms out to those in need: Mama.  The random fascination with kind of gross, but really cool, medical issues or injuries: Mama.  Heck!  The pure stubbornness that I know has gotten my siblings and me through tough times that would otherwise be impossible to deal with...That's my mom, right there.  The heart for those who need a little extra love.  Well, that's my mama, too.

Let me tell you why I love this picture: It isn't because it's good of me (it's not).  It's because in it are 12 people who adore my mom and don't see her as being invisible at all - whether we say it or not.  You can see her smile on all of our faces.

Invisible?  No...I see her clearly everyday.  I feel her expressions on my face.  I hear her tones in my voice.  And that is an extraordinary thing, because as those of you who know my mom can attest to, my mom is a pretty extraordinary person.  And even though the lines of the song below are written for a Mama and a Daddy (and I have amazing love and respect for my Daddy, too), today I want to send them out to Mama.  Because when I heard this song the other day my mind shot straight to you.  I love you.

Excerpted from Heroes by The Isaacs:

"...Those who sacrifice to raise a child that's not their own.
They dedicate their time to make a difference in someone else's life.
And in my eyes

"He's a hero and she's a hero
It doesn't matter that nobody knows their name.
They keep on giving to make life worth living
It might go unnoticed, but they're heroes just the same.

"They might go unnoticed, but they're heroes."


Happy Mother's Day, Mama!!!  I love you.