Month: March 2023

Jesus: All The Boo that I need.

Yes, Jesus, You are:

All.

Enough.

More.

Mine.

Thanks for giving Your All.

To, me.

For, me.

I love me some You.

All, that I have.

All, that I am.

Freely, I give to You.

You are:

My, Bestie.

My, Boo.

My, Friend.

You are and ever shall be with and for me.

I got You, Boo.

You have me, too.

Thank You, for walking these miles and days with me.

Easter is coming.

Ah.

Aha!

Isn’t that the whole point?…

loving me some You,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Some days, you just have to let your love, your loves, Your Love, hear how much they mean. Out loud. For the whole world to hear. Why? Cuz it gives them warm fuzzies. And, it gives your heart warm fuzzies. I love you, beloveds. We all of us are all we got. But, we all we need, eh?

Open your heart.

Open your arms.

Open your eyes.

Yes, in the past you were hurt by those who were hurting themselves. Or, you were purposely hurt by those wishing to inflict hurt.

Yet, it’s time, beloveds. For you to forgive you. And, for you to forgive them. Come from behind your walls and let the light come in. Let THE Light come in. Let love come in. Let Love come in. We wait for you…

It was never about that.

It was never about that.

It was never about the money.

It was never about the degree.

It was never about the area code.

It was never about the network.

It was never about the position.

It was never about the job.

It was never about the mate.

It was never about being single.

It was never about the race.

It was never about race.

It was never about gender.

It was never about religion.

It was never about…

What was/is/has it been about, you ask?

Ah.

Aha!

You have asked.

He SHALL answer.

Listen.

Listen!

LISTEN!

Listen as though your very life depends and depended on the answer. It does…

straining to hear,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Throw out the stale Golden Grahams, Cassandra.

I need a container for my popcorn.

I have the perfect container.

But, it has some old stale Golden Grahams in it.

And, til now, lazy has been beseeching me to just buy another container. See, lazy knew as soon as I cleaned out the container I would start looking and cleaning other things.

True enough, I found myself cleaning and organizing and dusting away.

Which found God and Life cleaning and organizing and dusting away the cobwebs and stale things in my life.

I need a shelf to hold my spices.

I have the perfect shelf waiting for me to put it together.

I wonder how I shall grow while building my shelf.

I wonder what God and Life shall build in me as I build my shelf.

building/growing/waiting,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

I am…

I am…

*shrug*

I don’t know, right now.

My heart is all over the place.

Dragging me every which way.

I hear…

I don’t know, right now.

My head is spinning.

Dragging me every which way.

I feel…

I don’t know, right now.

My spirit is restless.

Dragging me every which way.

I am…

Ah.

Aha!

Isn’t that the point?

living,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Breaking old habits: Use your whisk, Cassandra.

Whisk: What ARE you doing?!…*gasp*.

Me: Scrambling eggs of course. What’s your prob?

Whisk: Why in the name of all that’s holy are you using her!???!…*outraged gasp*…*incredulous look*

Fork: Who you calling ‘her’ like that and what is wrong with ME!?…*indignant pout*

Me: Uh, oh.

*Cassandra discreetly sneaks out of the room leaving whisk and fork to hash out their differences*

My apologies. I had gotten into the habit of scrambling eggs with a fork like mom used to do. Notwithstanding having a perfectly good whish I was forever whisking away with that fork.

On top of THAT I was used to spreading butter on things with whatever was close by. Spoon. Aforementioned fork. Knife big enough it barely fit in the butter tub. Yikes.

When ALL I had to do was literally turn around and use the perfectly suited small spatula thingie to spread butter neatly upn my bread.

What made me get some whisk and spatula act right? I got tired, finally of not having the eggs mixed as nicely as the whisk did/does. Who knew?!

I was also mad at how I had demolished a perfectly fine grilled cheese sandwich trying to spread fighting butter with back of a too blasted large spoooon!!!!!!

I don’t know who complained louder: bread, butter, spoon, spatula or me.

Now, I can report that all are doing as they were meant to do and being used in places made for them to use. Leaving me and my tummy satisfied to no end.

Ah.

Aha!

Bet you can come up with a fantastic moral to this tale. Let’s hear it…

munching grilled cheese and eggs happily,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Take out the trash, Cassandra.

“How are you doing”.

I was too tired to do the usual fine bit. Told sis I was tired. Tired. Tired. Realized I had been in bed all morning. Lights out. Moody.

I was going on and on and on about my need to take out the trash. I had been listening to lazy who was just too darned lazy to help me drag out now THREE bags of trash.

I was tired of having to move one, then two, now three bags of trash all around the kitchen to do meal prep and fill the dishwasher.

Lazy kept wooing me to be lazy and commiserated with me on how long and hard I had been working. Foolishness joined in with foolishness about waiting until break or lunch or a day off to do it. Even Ridiculous thought that was a ridiculous idea stating I should do it on Monday and stop whining about it already! Sheesh told everyone to shut up and headed towards some shoes to take out the dumb garbage already!

Sheesh!

Pout stormed her way to the light switch and angrily flipped it on.

Hey?! Light switch reminded folk who kept things bright around here and promptly dimmed her switch to let folk know what time it is.

Clock cracked THE dumbest joke about time that was soooooooo bad I don’t even have time to tell you about it.

😂

Seeing as how none of them would leave me be I made my way to the dumpster releasing aforementioned trash whither it had belongeth this whole time.

It was an absolutely gorgeous day. I enjoyed the sun and took an extra turn to get some exercise. Huffing a bit, my lungs said a quick thank you. My heart also commended my fe for keeping up such a brisk pace. My arms, feeling left out, put her hands on my hips and asked one of my feet to tap a bit to show her annoyance…lol.

A good time was had by all. Garbage out. Fresh air breathed in.

Ah.

Aha!

I realized sometimes you just have to take out the trash no matter how much life may be hurting at the moment.

All procrastinating did was give me less room to maneuver and more work to do in the end.

How about THAT for a moral to a story?

sad but satisfied,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Turn on the lights, beloveds. Take out the trash. Breathe in the fresh air. Yes, you may have and may yet well be taking several blows. Get on up. Turn on the lights. Acknowledge your sad. Then take sad with you to take out the trash. I love me some you. Be encouraged.

I feel…

I feel, like Tom Hanks felt in Castaway when he hurt his hand trying unsuccessfully to build a fire.

I feel, like Tom Hanks felt in Castaway as Wilson floated away.

I feel, like Tom Hanks felt in Castaway when he couldn’t break free of the waves to find his way home.

I feel, like Tom Hanks felt in Castaway when he finally gave up and lay on the raft wondering if that big old ship would see his tiny almost lifeless self on his tiny raft and pick him up.

I feel…

Ah.

Aha!

I feel. Isn’t that the point of life?

I feel, like Tom Hanks felt on Castaway after he successfully built his first 🔥.

I feel…

feeling,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

She wakes.

She wakes.

Stretches.

Alive.

She feels strange.

She feels familiar.

She feels powerful.

She feels…

Ah.

Aha!

She is.

She IS!

She is…me!

awake,

Cassandra

Waiting for Your Hand to move.

I await Your Movement.

I wait for Your Hand to move.

I long to feel the comforting weight of Your Hand upon my shoulder.

I feel small.

Your Hand makes me feel strong.

I am weak.

I no longer fear weakness.

She is my friend. Weakness brings me to You.

We are coming.

Weakness and I.

I wonder what You shall say to weakness and I.

I tell her not to be afraid. You would never hurt her. You understand that Your Strength is made perfect in her. In me.

*Cassandra, with weakness in tow, heads to her Father’s now familiar and needed lap.*

wondering what the fresh hell going on,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Life is worth living.

Life is worth living.

LIFE is worth living.

Life IS worth living.

Life is worth LIVING.

Live.

It’s worth it.

As are you.

living with you,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe