For when you feel invisible

I know you think you're invisible, that you could disappear from the pew, and no one in that sanctuary would give a damn. That you could vanish in the produce aisle, in the carpool line, on the sidewalk in front of the post office, and no one would notice, save for the half-filled grocery cart, the driverless minivan, the toddler kicking in the stroller.

I know you think you're too small to matter, your thoughts not lofty enough to be spoken, your ideas not novel enough to be your own. Maybe you write a blog that no one reads. Or populate a database that no one uses. Or teach a room full of eighth graders who despise you as much as they do learning. Or make meal after meal that no one eats, at least not without coercion.

Maybe the only platform you get to stand on is the old stepping stool in the utility room, the one you use to reach the cabinet where you stash extra light bulbs.

But there's something I want you to know.

I see you.

I see you handing your baby into someone else's arms, your high heels dragging back to the 5-minute-drop-off-only parking spot. I see you rushing, straight from work and still in scrubs, while your six year old races from the car to the field in half-tied cleats and the toddler in your arms slumps heavy and asleep on your shoulders. I see you, the spit-up still on your shirt, the baby in your lap, the eyes that would give anything to close for more than ten minutes at a time.

I see you.

And you are anything but small. You are anything but invisible. You are anything but weak, ineffective, insignificant. Please, will you stop talking to yourself that way?

Do you know what you really are?

You're amazing, sacrificial, thoughtful. You're beautiful (yes, even without make-up, even in sweat pants and the sweater that smells like thrift store). You're giving this life of yours all you have, and all you have is going to be enough. 

You are significant. You matter because He made you, fashioned you as a work of art, mixing color and shape and capability in a pattern uniquely yours. Your ideas? They're good. And your dreams? They're not foolish.

So look up, friend. Meet my gaze. Because I want you to hear this.
You are not invisible. 
I see you.
He sees you.
You matter.
You matter so very much.

blog comments powered by Disqus

Post a Comment

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
All Rights Reserved - ©MYLESTONES 2007-2012

  © Blogger template Shush by 2009

Back to TOP