You know the one

She’s got her recipes plastered on Pinterest…all her beautiful cakes and dishes…Her creative parties and house decor…All those perfectly clean rooms and floors…

You know, supermom.

She’s got her status posted everyday of how wonderful life is, how precious her little angels are.

She adores her husband and he adores her.

She wrote just last night of how he brought her flowers for no particular reason.

Her ring is a true rock and her clothes always looks perfect and that hair…

Geez, does she go to the salon everyday?!

She’s not just supermom; she’s super wife!…Super-woman!!

She’s got to have it all and have it all together!

Or so you would think…

Yet, you didn’t see her last night snap at her husband and go to bed angry.

You weren’t there last week when she screamed at the kiddos when they spilt the milk.

You didn’t even know she ran back in the house this morning, make up streaming, baby spit up in her hair, Cherrios crushed down her new blouse, the car out of gas….because some Fridays just really start as Mondays.

You don’t realize she stresses out before every group event, because she’s really an introvert and worries about being accepted.

You don’t recognize the tears that brim as she smiles and slightly turns away so you can’t see.

You just don’t see her under the facade…

She awoke again terrified in the night …another nightmare…

She went straight to the babies’ rooms, scared that he had found her after all these years.

She’s suffered such abuse, such neglect, she wonders if anyone could ever truly care.

She wanders through this life simply surviving breath by breath, minute by tiny minute.

You never see her there, in the dark, all alone.

It’s all a facade.

It’s all a fancy charade to obtain a moment of sanity.

She dances with the emotions and she paints on the portraits.

All the while, she keeps the pain, the agony, the death, hiding there inside.

It’s time to coax her from the shadows, to give her hope for what might be.

It’s time to let go of our perceived perfection and love her for who she is, to help her dream of who she can one day become.

We must show her the hope she can have in Him.

We have to reach her, to be His hands extended, or she’ll forever be lost in her pain.

We’ve got to see past the facade to show her He died that she might live.