Next time someone asks you what you do at home all day, you can answer, “I’m building cathedrals.” The text that follows is slightly different than the video, but the message is the same:

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I’m on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I’m thinking, ‘Can’t you see I’m on the phone?’ Obviously, not.

No one can see if I’m on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I’m invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I’m not a pair of hands; I’m not even a human being. I’m a clock to ask, ‘What time is it?’ I’m a satellite guide to answer, ‘What number is the Disney Channel?’ I’m a car to order, ‘Right around 5:30 , please.’

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude – but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She’s going; she’s going; she is gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England … Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when 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 exactly sure why she’d given it to me until I read her inscription:

‘To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.’

In the days ahead I would read – no, devour – the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:

• No one can say who built the great cathedrals – we have no record of their names.
• These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
• They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
• The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, ‘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. And the workman replied, ‘Because God sees.’ I closed the book, feeling the missing pieces fall into place.

It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, ‘I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you’ve done, no sequin you’ve sewn on, no cupcake you’ve baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can’t see right now what it will become.’

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.

The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

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 4 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’d built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, ‘you’re gonna love it there.’

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we’re doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

Season follows season and as we transfer from fall into winter, I have found that my own life has brought me into a brand new season.

It started on November 14 when B and I got the keys to our very own home. This isn’t a standard tract home in the middle of suburbia. This is a house built in 1912, floated down the river to its current location sometime around 1926. I found out that the next door neighbor grew up in this house. It has sat waiting for a while. Waiting for a family. Brenton and I were happy to oblige and now this is home.

We took posession of the house on Friday and on Saturday morning 30 people showed up at our old apartment to help us move. Brenton had sent out a hep request at work and our needs were met beyond our wildest expectations. We had everything packed and in the garage at the old apartment. The time the first box went out of the old apartment to the time the last box went into our new home was 1 hour. Afterwards we “paid” our moving crew in chili and fritos for lunch.

Our move came just in time too. We had 11 days to get settled (and I use that term very loosely) before our baby’s due date. I expected the baby to be late, but I wasn’t going to take anything for granted. It’s a good thing I didn’t waste any time getting the house (somewhat) settled.

Last Wednesday, the long awaited day arrived and our baby decided to be uncharacteristically (for our family) punctual.

Samuel Isaac made his appearance in the world on November 26. Brenton and I spent Thanksgiving day with our hearts overflowing with thanks.

Since that day, I’ve been mastering such skills as diaper changing, sleep walking, and one-handed typing. At the end of the day I couldn’t be happier (even though I’m a bit uncertain right now as to when one day ends and the next day begins.

If I were to sum up my philosphy on frugality in three statements they would be:

1. Begin from a mindset of abundance
2. Know where you are going
3. Saving money doesn’t require spending a lot of time

Begin from a mindset of abundance (or Count your Blessings)

In times like these, frugality is easily motivated by fear: The future is uncertain, the job market is shakier than we would like, money is not as easy to come by. Even with all that, most people who are reading this blog are abundantly blessed with more than enough to survive.

Frugality often takes on a miserly personality when not tempered with counting your blessings. Rather than hoarding out of fear, recognize that you have enough already and save to increase personal security. Ultimately, hoarding out of fear is a failure to trust God’s provisions. On the other side of the coin, saving and being frugal is part of being a responsible steward of all that He has given.

It probably sounds a bit nit-picky, but the take away lesson is that living in fear is no life at all.

Know where you are going (Set goals)

Why do you want to save money? At different points in our lives, B and I have lived frugally just to make ends meat, cut back on expenses so we could buy some toys, saved for a down payment on a house, and currently, we are saving towards having an emergency fund of 3-6 months of expenses.

I am a big fan of financial guru David Bach’s idea of values based spending. The basic principle is to know what is important to you and spend your discretionary income on those things rather than spending it without thinking. Tell your money where to go, don’t let the neighbors spend it for you as you try to keep up with the Joneses. Right now, our goal is to continue saving on that down payment and to build a 6-month emergency fund (I am amazed at how being pregnant has activated my security gland. Seven months ago I was not too concerned about getting that emergency fund in place!)

Saving money doesn’t require spending a lot of time

We’ve all read those frugal tips that include baking everything from scratch, spending hours and hours planning your couponing shopping strategy, spinning your own yarn, weaving your own cloth, and sewing your own clothes–you know exactly what I am talking about. While none of these things are bad, you probably had the same response as I did, “Who has time for this stuff?!?” My goal in being frugal is to save the most money with the least amount of time. As for baking my own bread and sewing my own clothes–I only do it because I enjoy it.

What do you think should be added to my frugal philosophy? Why are you saving money right now? Do you have a frugal tip to save time and money or a hobby (like sewing) that you enjoy and helps your family live a bit more frugally? Leave a comment and let me know!

Is it possible to be too unselfish in marriage?

Generally speaking, human beings are much more likely to be self-absorbed to a fault, I also think that marriage is a careful balance between being unselfish enough to meet the other persons needs and selfish enough to express your own needs.

With all the changes going on around pregnancy, Brenton and I were both trying to be unselfish and generous but we never actually talked about our own needs and wants. The result was unsatisfying for both of us.

The key to avoiding this trip up is constant communication.

If we had taken just a moment to talk about our relationship, we could have avoided several months of frustration.  Satan likes nothing better than to drive a wedge in the communication between two married people.  While Brenton and I both had the very best intentions towards one another, the frustration that resulted could have easily resulted in withdrawing from one another and allowing the gap to widen and the frustration to grow.  When we talked for just a few minutes, the gap was narrow and the bridge was remarkably easy to cross.

Assumptions are the wedge that drives a relationship apart.

I have always been told that I should never assume anything, but after being around Brenton for 7 years (married 4), I thought I knew how this stuff worked.  Perhaps 70 years wouldn’t be long enough for me to understand what makes him tick.  Perhaps I should never assume anything.