Friday, May 9, 2008

To each of you, as you build your cathedrals

I saw this on another blog and had to put it here. If only so I can read it, again, and remember.
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I'm invisible.

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!


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's 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 as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. 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, devoured - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
(1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.

(2) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.

(3) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.

(4) The passion of their building was fuelled 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 piece 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.

God Bless You as you build your Cathedrals! (Author Unknown)

Monday, May 5, 2008

Oh yeah! another set of Be Attitudes blocks


March blocks are now officially done. I'm trying to catch up, but it takes a little while to do all the applique on each block. I thought that these were done a while back, but I noticed that I forgot the antennae. The little ants like having antennae for their photo shoot. :o)

Sunday, May 4, 2008

I've been busy, but I *do* quilt :o)




I have the pattern "Be Attitudes" and I've started making 2 sets of blocks-one from the suggested fabrics and one from scraps and fabrics I already have stashed. Here is a set for April. Now, you can see one of each. Aren't they cute quilt blocks?

Thursday, April 24, 2008

O.C. Step #2



I like to make scrap quilts and, although I've never made a mystery quilt before, I finally decided to jump on the bandwagon and make one called Orange Crush. I'm making it with a whole bunch of quilters on Bonnie Hunter's internet site Quiltville.
I have step #2 all finished. (OK, "finished" as soon as I get the last of the little corners snipped off. Just noticed them.) Now, I get to backtrack a little and do step #1.
Here's a photo of all 142 little blocks. I'll keep you posted on my progress. :o)

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Wear your safety gear































I do not have my motorcycle safety gear yet, so I did not go out on a ride yesterday with my husband and brother-in-law. Rick dumped his bike and he was so glad he was wearing leathers. They are a bit scruffed up, but he is only mildly so. A few scrapes and a hurt pinky finger, but look at he bike and you know it could've been a whole lot worse.

it only took a year +



I finally got a quilt finished. I've been planning it and working on it, occasionally, for awhile, but decided that it was time to get it FINISHED. This little quilt is for a co-worker's baby boy. When the baby was born, I didn't bring anything to the shower because I wanted to make something a little larger than for an infant. The baby turned one last week-end, so it was about time I got it done, don'tcha' think? LOL The co-worker is also a football coach, so I bought football fabric for the border, and the little new owner of the quilt was so excited. He grabbed his quilt and hugged it and said "Ball!" over and over. I'm happy it was a hit.
There was enough leftover fabric, that I used for the backing, to make me 3 pillowcases, so I have a picture of them, too. I'm not overly fond of Mickey Mouse, but I am very fond of using up my scraps and stash in a useful manner. :o)

Sunday, April 6, 2008

My Elvis quilt is done Yay!

I've been working on this quilt for quite a while. First, I had to find the fabrics, then figure out how to showcase them and make something that my mom would like. It's queen-size, so it took some effort to quilt, too, but I'm happy to say that it's done and delivered...and she likes it. But then again, she's a major Elvis fan. Of course she loves it. Now, onto my next quilt. :o) Top border close-up.