The truth is that life is quite rich and it is only because of complacency and fear that I can never settle down to write about it. Right before bedtime, I read an emailed link from my friend Lori entitled The Invisible Woman. Its by Nicole Johnson and you can google it if you want as I don't feel like putting a link in right now. I barely made it through my six lullabies to Bradie without my voice quivering. The story sums up the plight of the Invisible Woman that she is not invisible at all, but that God does indeed see ALL that she does in her life for her family.
There are days-boy, are there days- where I don't "hear" one nice thing said to me. At all. There are days when I find myself immersed in infuriating battles of logic (or non-logic) with a four year old who has no idea the rules she's breaking are actually for her good and, most of the time, for her happiness as well. Somedays there's never any bull-free time in this China shop!
So the metaphor from The Invisible Woman crushes me. Cathedrals. Apparently no one knows who really built those great cathedrals because they took so painstakingly long to complete.
Many builders died before they saw their work complete.
And the thing I can barely grasp is that my current life's work may be exactly the same. No one "sees" me, no one "knows" all the details of it except for Him. And that raises up in me these feelings that I cannot name or much less contain quickly enough to express.
The comfort in this is that God is real. Really real. That truth makes "those days" actually make sense, and I am encouraged to pick it up again tomorrow because His mercies really are new everyday. There is no way that I can be sitting here in sweats, hair unwashed, glitter all over my kitchen floor, after a day of very little respect and be so...filled that I feel like I will explode if I don't say that my God is real. And He is good.