Happy Mothers Day.

Mothers! What you are doing today is largely invisible. But one day, people will marvel, not only at the life you have brought into the world, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of your love.

This realization started for Nicole one day as she was walking her son, Jake, to school.

“I was holding his hand and we were about to cross the street when the crossing guard said to him,

“Who is that with you, young fella?’”

“Nobody,” he shrugged.

“Nobody?”

“The crossing guard and I laughed.

“My son is only five. But as we crossed the street I thought, Oh, my goodness, nobody? I am invisible. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more. Can you fix this? Can you tie that? Can you open this? Some days I’m not even a pair of hands, I’m not even a human being. I’m a clock to ask: What time is it? I’m a TV remote to answer: “What number is the Disney Channel?”

“At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not an affliction, it is not a disease erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my stubborn self will. It gives me the right perspective to see myself as one of the people who shows up at a job I’ll never see finished, to work on something greater than all the gold in the world.

“When I really think about it, I don’t want my son to tell the friend he’s bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, ‘My Mom gets up at four in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand-bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.’ That would mean I built a monument to myself. But its not about me. I just want my son to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, ‘You’re gonna love it.’

“For home is where the heart is.

Words fail to capture the unique beauty of a Mothers’ love. The hidden and heroic sacrifices, the subtle, penetrating joys, and the unexpected thrills and aches of Motherhood, cannot be described adequately. It is like the sighing of the wind, echoing everywhere the love of the one who gave us birth. It is the way of God’s providence to create again and again a Mother for each child to be protected with a singular blanket of love.

Mothers! You may not live to see the full fruits of your labors. But the world will marvel, not only at what you have nurtured, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the invisible sacrifices of your love.