I am the mother of four young children and belong to a group of friends. One evening we were having dinner together to welcome one of our members home. Janice is one of our circle and we were celebrating her return from a fabulous trip. Telling us of her adventures, she went on and on about the places she had seen and the hotels she stayed in. And there was I, looking at the others who were all turned out so well. It was hard not to compare myself with them. My out of style dress was the only thing I could find that was clean enough and because I had no time for washing my hair before I left our house, I tied it into a knot. And just for a moment I was afraid a smell of peanut butter might cling to me and waft to the others. I have to admit I was feeling rather sorry for myself.
But then 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 sure why she had given it to me, until I saw her dedication, which read: ‘To my friend, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building and what no-one can see.’ During the coming days, I devoured the book and found in it four truths that changed my perspective of life entirely. To my astonishment I discovered that the life of the builders of the great cathedrals of our world had been very similar to mine.
Let me explain. Nobody knows who the builders were, as no records of the names of most of them are available anywhere. As a matter of fact, they dedicated a whole lifetime to a work they would never see finished. Therefore they are unlikely to have expected any credit for their efforts. Their enthusiasm and love for their project may well have been fuelled by the belief that they were building for the glory of God and that the all-seeing eye of God would appreciate any sacrifices that had to be made.
The book contains a legend about a rich man who came to visit one of the cathedrals while it was under construction. For a while he watched a workman who was busy carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. The rich man was so puzzled by this that he asked the workman: ‘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.’ ‘Ah,’ the other one replied: ‘It’s for God. The almighty sees everything.’
When I closed the book, the small still voice of my inner guidance whispered: ‘Your efforts are not for nothing either. I am the living God within you. I am as much part of you as you are of Me. At all times I see even the tiniest sacrifice anyone is making, even though no-one else may do so. No act of kindness, no button sewn on or cake baked is too small a labour of love for Me to notice and be pleased about. Be proud for you too are involved in the construction of a great building. You cannot yet see what it will be one day. It may even take until you return into the world of spirit, but from there too you will know that your efforts have not been wasted and that the seeds you have been sowing are bearing fruit, one way or another.’
It’s good to know that, just as the builders of the cathedrals are looking at their achievements from the other side of the veil of consciousness, at the latest I too will be able to view the results of my efforts when I join them. But, wait a minute. Some of those great edifices are hundreds of years old, so in the meantime their designers and builders could have been recycled many times. Just think! At this very moment they could be standing in front of one of those old churches, admiring the work of their own minds and hands, unaware of what kind of an input they once had into its creation. They may inexplicably feel drawn to it, as if by some giant invisible magnet, to stand and gaze upon and admire it. Isn’t it an amazing world we live in?
Sometimes when I am together with my children, they are so focussed on experiencing their young lives that I cannot help a feeling of being invisible. I do not allow this to spoil my enjoyment of my offspring because I recognise that such feelings are a good cure for my self-centeredness. My newly found vision of being a great builder helps me to keep the right perspective on my children, my life and myself. It helps me to know that I too am one of those people who are working hard at a job they may never see finished during their present lifetime and that may never bear my name.
The author of my book wrote that no cathedrals could ever be built in our present times for the simple reason that nobody would be willing to make the required sacrifices. Come to think of it, I would not want my daughter to tell the friend she brings home from college for Thanksgiving: ‘My mother is wonderful! She got up at four in the morning to bake some homemade pies and then hand-basted a turkey for three hours. On top of that she cleaned the whole house to make it look and feel good.’ I do not care for building myself shrines and monuments. I just want my children to come home. And if there is anything my children say to their friends, I hope it will be something like: ‘You’re going to love it, I’m sure.’
No matter what anyone may say about us mothers, in the great plan of life we are playing an essential role. Without us our world could not continue to exist. We are the representatives and temporary substitutes of the Great Mother, who gives life through all her daughters. Like her, lovingly and silently we give of our best, safe in the knowledge that She and Her Angels are going to take care of the rest. As co-creators with God, women are doing their share of building mighty cathedrals, metaphorically speaking. No-one, except God, can see the many sacrifices and efforts each one of these works takes. But throughout the ages, hasn’t our world at all times been marvelling at what wonderful work women are doing by bringing up their children?
Created by Anon.
Edited by Aquarius
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