To the Invisible One

Dear Invisible One,

I know you think that no one sees you, knows you, or values you.

I know you are often awake before anyone else and often working long after everyone else has gone to bed.

You are pulled on, tugged on, drooled on, spit up on, and cried on.

I know that you feel torn when you're still at work and it's time to get your little one.  You secretly wish you had one more hour to actually finish up a few things or to actually try to get a little ahead.  But, you quietly gather your things and leave...all while thinking about all the things that await you tomorrow.

I know that even though you left work feeling weighted down and behind, your heart still skips a beat when you see their sweet smiling face.   And when they grab you with their sticky little hands to hug you and kiss you on the cheek, the stress of your day fades a bit.  You buckle them into their car seat and somehow render victorious in another battle about the necessity of their sitting in the "baby seat".  (Even though you may or may not have resorted to using chocolate to barter.)

I know that you come home to laundry piled up, dirty un-swept floors, and dishes waiting for you in the sink.  But you set about looking at agendas and getting homework completed.  You begin to cook dinner all while a tiny voice demands your attention and time.  They think it's time to play and as much as you want to, you know that dinner doesn't cook itself.  

I know you lose your patience sometimes, you fuss, you whine, you debate...trying to balance little hands that want to "help" and boiling water, hot pots and pans, and butter that's cooking too quickly.  I know you feel overwhelmed because you're trying to do so many things at once.  I know you wish you had at least three more hands and two more pairs of eyes. 

I know that you negotiate through dinner time-- one more bite of chicken, try your peas, drink your juice, don't throw your food-- you dodge dropped noodles, spit out carrots, and the third spilled cup of the evening.  Then after an hour of cooking, your little declares they're done...after eating two bites and smearing the rest of their food all over themselves, their highchair, and you.  Yet somehow, they've managed to keep their bib perfectly spotless.

I know how you then you wade through bath time, sippy-cup prep, story time, and then just as you feel yourself ready to sigh a sigh of relief that you've made it through another day...another battle ensues.   
When you finally shut the door leaving your sweet angel-faced baby sleeping in their little beds, you retreat to the kitchen. There you begin tackling the mountain of dirty dishes that awaits you.  All while standing on aching feet and legs that long to sit down.  You fold another load of clothes, wipe down another counter.  

It's the end of the day and you feel you've given all you have and you're tired.  Bone tired.  Exhausted to your core.  But, there's more to do.  You set about packing book bags and lunches.  You lay out clothes, littles shoes, and socks and check to be sure that agendas are signed and homework is finished. You sweep the kitchen floor, turn off the light, and trudge to your room.

I know when you finally lay down in bed, you sigh.  Your eyes close and you feel yourself fading away... when you hear that small voice calling you.  You drag yourself out of bed and pat little backs and sooth away tears and bad dreams and wait until your little one is sound asleep before tiptoeing out of the room.  You turn out your light and the thought crosses your mind as you drift off to sleep, my clock will go off in less than seven hours and I will get up to do this all over again.  But you wouldn't trade it for the world.

I know you feel under appreciated... the hard work you do goes unnoticed.  I know that the moment you finally sweep and mop the floor someone spills their drink on it.  I know that you feel as though you're alone in your duties and that you have no time for you--this is true--but yet you selflessly give your best to your loved ones yet another day.  I know there are days you really don't think you can go on, that you'd like to quit, or hide under your blankets when your alarm rings.  I know that you worry you'll go insane if you fold one more pair of princess panties or socks.  

But I see you.  I see all of you. I see you in your weary moments, in your weak moments, in the moments no one else does.  I see every selfless act you do, even when you're not feeling so selfless.  I see your silent tears and I hear your whispered prayers asking for patience, love, and guidance.  There is nothing about you that is invisible, there is nothing that you do that is unseen to me.  I chose you for such a special job as this.  I chose you because I knew you were capable and that you were just the person that your little one needed.  So as you lay down to sleep tonight, know that I see you.  I appreciate you and you are anything but invisible.

Love,
God