Cathedrals

I can barely open the door as I walk in from work; half drank coffee cup in hand, purse, lunch box, planner…all the while trying to keep my cell phone from meeting the ground for the 50^th time.  The kids, who were previously engaged in some other activity, immediately begin…”moooommm, can I have a snaaack?”  The door hasn’t even shut behind me.  You were perfectly fine, playing by yourselves seconds before I opened the door…why the moment I come in does your world fall apart?  

“You may have fruit or applesauce or raisins, but I am about to start dinner. “  Queue whining.    “But I want goldfish, but I want crackers, but I want chips…”  need I continue?

I kick my heels off and start right in on dinner, still in my suit or dress complete with those dreadful pantyhose, before these ravished children starve to death. “moooommm, I’m thirsty.”  “moooommm, I need to tell you something.”  “moooom, I can’t reach the markers.”  “mmmoooooommm can you get me a piece of paper.”  “mooooommm WATCH THIS.”

“CAN’T YOU SEE I AM TRYING TO MAKE DINNER?”

Some days I feel like all I do is help.  All I do is…do.  All I do is complete tasks demanded by two four year old dictators.  I read a blog post the other day that that mentioned grand Cathedrals in Europe.                How there are no records of their builders names, how the builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished, who made great sacrifices and expected no credit, and who’s passion was fueled by God and for God who’s eyes see it all.

It went on to say that it’s almost as if God is whispering, {my adlib} “I see you.  I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one else is around to see them.  No act of kindness, no already-past-bedtime story, no new menu or creative way to get someone to eat their veggies, no last minute errand… is too small for Me to see.  You are building a great Cathedral, but you can’t see what it will look like right now.  Keep up the good work, my good and faithful servant.”

It was as if God knew that I needed a pick me up.  As parents (dad’s included), we should take a step back from time to time to see that we are building something grand.  Does it mean that we won’t get weary?  No.  Does it mean that the 1,000 questions the moment we walk in the door won’t annoy us?  No.  To me it means that I am so fortunate to have been given the opportunity to work on God’s precious Cathedrals, my children.  That I am to diligently mold them and structure them so that they will eventually stand strong and beautiful in the eyes of an almighty God. 

Like those builders so many years ago, I don’t know if I am doing it right, but my hope is that one day the world might marvel at these beautiful, kind, giving individuals that have been molded by the sacrifices of a mom.