Month: May 2023

God’s Goulash.

I tried my hand at goulash, MY way.

A heaping helping of whatever the world I felt like tossing in my electric skillet.

My life often felt, feels like a heaping helping of whatever the world God and Life feels like tossing into my world and mixing it into whatever the fresh what on earth is THIS. Leaving me, a teeny weeny oyster. Allowing me to be an ugly clay ashtray.

Mother’s Day had turned itself into so many unexpected things. So many tasty things! Life really is like that, isn’t it? Full of plot twist. Full of a heck of a whole lot of forks in the road while not telling you which way to turn yet telling you which way to turn.

God then tosses in apparent mayhem, anxt, tests, trials, what the world is THAT, how on earth will I get through THIS. Thankfully, He sprinkles in plenty of laughter, joy, foolishness, fun, hope, faith, more hope, more faith, love, His Love, a whole lotta Jesus, the Cross, THE Cross!, plenty of you can do this so get up and get to doing it, being about it ness, and tons of this, that and the other thing.

Smartly, He tosses us a blueprint which teaches us HOW to build a strong foundation in order to withstand the thisers and thathers of the world.

Finally, He bathes our goulash with His and our mixed together tears as we fight our way through our recipe, our goulash, which turns out to be His Masterpiece…You.

Tada, world!

It is a truth, beloveds. A sad truth, many look upon their goulash, their life, and see nothing but a heap of not so great. They look upon other’s goulash in envy. Thinking someone else’s life, their goulash, MUST be more tasty, more preferred as he/she/they have more expensive ingredients. The pot their goulash is cooked in is more expensive. They lament no one will want their particular goulash. No one will want THEM.

So, they hide. Their heart. Their love. There goulash. Leaving the world, more hungry. Less, loved. Needlessly.

All God and Life asks and require is for us to just be us. You, be you. Me, be me. We are simply to allow our goulash to turn into whatever the wide world God and Life MEANT for it, for us, for you, for me, to end up being.

You are NOT an accident.

You life, how you have ended up, is NOT an accident.

You were a brilliant and priceless on purpose.

An on purpose in which God and Life lovingly presents, to the world, with your permission. Only you can take the courage to offer your particular brand of you, your goulash, to the world. And, I get it. Truly, I get it. Folk are so embarrassed about their particular goulash they project their dismay and dislike upon you. Leaving you to feel like a heap of unwanted goulash.

Keep on being you, beloveds. This world is hungry for what only you can provide…you.

Time for me to go beloveds. Time for me to offer my goulash to whosoever will.

Wil you?

Take care.

Be encouraged.

Remember, love:

You are loved.

You are NOT alone.

yours,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Be…

Be…

The faithful friend, you have been asking for.

The loyal, supportive, understanding, empathetic partner, you have been praying for.

The ethical, hardworking, empowering, joyful employer, you have been asking for in management and your job.

The welcoming, inclusive, civil, empathic, compassionate, warm, affirming, global sister/brother, you are asking God and Life to send out to heal our divisive world.

An oyster cracker, for someone who is hungry.

A vessel God and Life can use to spread love, joy, peace, hope and light, into a world full of hopelessness and faithfulness. Allow God and Life to use your arms to love others. We love because He first loved us.

Humor in a world which has seemingly forgotten how to laugh.

An eraser who lets everyone know it is not only okay, but a part of this thing called life, to make mistakes, on the daily.

Finally, beloved, be. Just be…YOU!

Don’t fret, yea, worry NOT, about the outcome. How come? Cuz, beloved, it is all in the TRY.

Will you?

Will YOU, just TRY, beloved?

I will.

I WILL!

*Cassandra turns from the mirror and continues to offer the tiny, old, broke, broken down, busted, teeny, tiny, but awfully tasty oyster cracker called her, to the world.*

Such as I have, beloveds, I offer you. Everything but my Kuerig, and double chocolate chip cookies, that is.🤣🤷‍♀️❤

I love you.

His Friend and your oyster cracker,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Note: This was an awesome day. Often, we use the past to determine our present moods and moments. Enjoy each day. Look forward to them. You have NO idea what treats that God and Life are eagerly awaiting to share with you. If nothing else, They are waiting to escort you through EVERY moment. Be encouraged. You got this. God and Life has us all. You are loved. You are NOT alone. If you know someone who would like to help me get to my sabbatical so I can write, write, write and write, head on over to my Help Me Be Loud page. We all we got but we all we need.

Real talk: Seeing through a mother’s eyes.

I have been thinking a lot, about my mom. Missing her. Thinking of all she did and tried to do for our family. Mom was not perfect. She did not have much. Or, so it seemed, to this judgey you had best have tons of money and prestige world we live in.

Yet, mom loved this world, the best that SHE could. She cooked for it. She cleaned for it. Mom’s love language, like many, many, many black woman, was of service. She learned, had been taught, long ago to feed the masses and keep her mouth shut and heart closed from HER dreams.

Her dreams became allowing us to live with her, off and on, as we pursued, or not, our own too big or two small dreams.

As dusk turned into night, which then turned itself into Mother’s Day, I lay in darkness, thinking of the darkness mom must have felt in having given up HER dreams to raise 13 kids on not a lot of money but plenty of never giving up ness. 13! I couldn’t, still can’t, imagine raising sooooooooooooooooo many heard headed block heads, at once. Good grief.

As I struggle to make my decades long writing dream come true, I….*sigh*….I think of mom’s dreams. I try, horridly so, to look into HER heart to see what dreams lay there. Mom never really shared what her ultimate dream was. I wish I knew. My childhood dream was to buy her a home, hire staff to take care of her every wish and desire and allow her to live out her days chasing whatever whim and fancy that SHE fancied.

That day never arrived. I feel kinship with mom’s perhaps unrealized dreams. Who knows? Maybe her dream was to raise 13 knuckleheads. She did her best to. Her TRY was outstanding, in that regard. For the most part, we all have random times of acting like we have the two sense God gaves us and mom raised us to have…lol….we kid because we love bro/sis’

It’s not easy, trying to view life through the lense of another. Doing so makes us accountable for our part in how our lives have turned out. We can’t blame mom or dad or this or that, for what we have done or failed to do. She did the best she could. She gave all she had. Whether her best was enough, for us, was and is an us problem. Not hers.

Now, I continue to try and look at her life, through HER eyes. Which helps me, to look at mine, through MY eyes. Not, hers. I have let her off the hook, for all I thought she should have been and should have given me. I let ME off the hook, for all I thought I should have been and given me.

I now, right now, make my way through a motherless, iceless, out of the darkness, sharing coffee with mom Mother’s Day.

Ah, mom.

Aha, mom.

Have a wonderous Mother’s Day, beloveds. If you have your mama, squeeze her tight. If not, give yourself a squeeze and get by the best you can, today. Smile, thinking of the laughs you enjoyed. And, if you did not enjoy a good or great relationship, with your mom, perhaps you can make the attempt to look at life through HER eyes. She may surprise you. You may surprise yourself.

Be encouraged.

You are loved.

You are NOT alone.

Keep on being…YOU.

loving me some her on this her Mother’s Day,

Cassandra aka Sweetpea

Mother’s Day: Tear down those walls, Cassandra.

Mother’s Day…*sigh*.

I see you. Yes, I am WELL prepared for you.

This year.

THIS time.

Last night, pre Mother’s Day, I made sure, made certain, in fact, to arm myself with ALL the prerequisites to survive an motherless Mother’s Day:

Silence – I smartly texted those who I know would give two damns about my orphan self as mom up and damn left me like that!!!! Dammit, mom!! Oppps….ehem….*Cassandra snatches up hidden anger and rushed it into the now fully crammed dammit why the world and the fresh hell did you up and leave me like that mom drawer, and got about preparing her encampment, er apartment, making it rage proof, emotion proof, happy go damn pretending like she doesn’t care mom is gone, environment.

To ensure said silence, Cassandra made sure her text was pleasant, efficient, brief as she advised she would be incommunicado dammit cuz mom gone…opps.

Next, and this was a tricky one, she called her Wombie, to let her know she was going to spend some time ‘resting’. Ha! To be fair, her wombie knows her well and gave her permission to turn off the phone and process as she needed to process. Well, crackers, wombie, you sure do make it hard to hide my heart, from you.

Actually, beloveds, I no longer hide my heart, during Mother’s Day. Last year, I was even able to make a nice dinner and think of all the good times mom and I had. I thought I was going to be able to this year. Alas, my heart decided to do a sneak attack and prepared to hide from this motherless world…*sigh*.

Darkness – I have some lovely smart bulbs I can switch to a brooding, tasteful, drat it all mom is gone and left me a blasted orphan color. I also started the morbid, er mourning, er moment by playing ‘Moment by Moment’ on a loop….*sigh*…such an introspectively, romantically sad song to me……*Cassandra sways to Moment by Moment thinking of her mom every moment*.

Ice – Since I would not allow myself to comfort eat, I found myself taking unused ice trays out and crunching on ice all day….*sigh*….*Cassandra puts the ice trays back up*. I used to use ice eating to self comfort when life was really hard. EVERY two hours, I had it timed, I would dump the ice, refill the ice trays and run a bit of hot water, over the ice cubes, to make sure only the white part of the ice was left. This left a satisfying crunch/flavor. Yet, I was in a prison of every two blasted hours changing ice and lamenting about this or that or the other of life.

Since getting some true healing, I do my best to leave comfort eating alone and get my comfort in the lap of The Father, in the Word, in supportive family, in my wombie, in old movies, in praise/worship and good old fashioned feel good secular music.

Mostly, though, beloveds, I draw comfort from me. I encourage and love myself. First. So I can love others and be the best tasting oyster cracker this side of heaven.

Anywho, I have my fortress of darkness and solitude prepared and awaited the coming dawn. I was smart enough, even, to take a power nap. I just HAD to greet Mother’s Day, on a full night’s sleep. Ha!

I battled the night.

The night, battled me.

Battered, I ceded the night to day.

Fresh hell.

Day, left her corner, tapped out night, and commenced to tossing haymakers.

MOTHER’S DAY.

Hhmm.

Hmmm.

*Day, having crashed face first, on an empty bed, looked around wondering where Cassandra….hhaarrumph! Day, flounced out of the room after observing Cassandra serving her mom and Mother’s Day a cup of coffee. The lovely sound of peculating coffee mingled with the incredibly beautiful sights and smeills of perfectly made cheese toast. Day decided to find someone else to pick on seeing as Cassandra had her Mother’s Day well in hand.*

I woke from my nap, turned the phone back on, turned the lights on and prepared to greet Mother’s Day with a grateful heart. Carefully, with intention, I began to tear down walls I had been secretly building for weeks. I did not realize I had been building walls until the tell of those ice trays came up.

I am grateful for old habits. They alert us something is up. Yes, if you have the courage, old habits will tell on you. Like a game of hide and seek, old habits will search us out. Old habits are experts at hide and seek. For, they know where ALL the bodies, are buried. Yikes, mom, no pun intended…*macabre shiver*

I determined, I would arise and do my own search and rescue mission. I told myself I would not write. Not, today. Not, on Mother’s Day. i needed to hide and process me in case inopportune grief and sadness, raised their ill-timed heads.

Surprisingly, neither have shown up. Not, yet. Yet, my heart tapped me on the shoulder. Reminding me there are countless of sons and daughters who are also missing their mom, their mama, their o dear Lord how do I survive without them person.

*Cassandra prepares some extra place settings for any and all who are in need of some care on this their motherless Mother’s Day.*

Be encouraged. For those who have lost loved ones there just is no getting around the loss. Take some time, to allow your heart to feel however it needs to feel. It is perfectly fine to either be perfectly fine. Or, it’s okay to not be okay until you find yourself okay, once again. Okay?

In the meantime, I am going blast Moment by Moment, cherishing EVERY precious, priceless, tearful, joyful, moment of this motherless Mother’s Day.

Happy Mother’s Day, mom. I love you. I miss you. Thank you, for my life. Enjoy your well deserved rest. Mom, I got this. And, God has me. I shall continue your example of feeding the world the best oyster cracker it has ever eaten. Your grateful, orphan daughter, Cassandra.

missing me some her,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

The only way I know how.

I am:

Loud.

At times, uncouth.

Yet, I am.

I am, here, world.

Being…me.

The only way I know how.

I am:

Unapologetic.

At times, seemingly, unseemly.

Still, I am, here, fam.

Being.

The only way I know how.

I am:

Me.

At times, exceedingly so.

Being…an oyster cracker.

The only way I know how.

being ME alway the only way I know how,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Note: Keep being loud, uncouth, unapologetically, seemingly unseemly, exceedingly so, beloveds. This doesn’t mean traipsing through the world unmindful of others thoughts, feelings and needs.

No, to live this way, we ALWAYS take others thoughts, feelings and needs, into account. It means that WE count ourselves, in the equation. We count our thoughts, feelings and our needs, into the equation.

Too often, we are mute. Too often, sadly so, expecting the world to be clairvoyant. We want the world to count us, worthy. We want the world to jump through hoops to let us know it cares.

We want.

We want.

We want dammit!

We, then, allow want to run rampant. Rampant, in our lives. We then allow our want, to run rampant, all over the place. Our want is allowed to trample over the thoughts, feelings and need of others.

Then, THEIR want, seeing OUR want, well, their want wants to get to wanting and running rampant to.

It is their RIGHT, you see, to allow their want to do whatever the hell their want wants. To hell with our wants.

Now, want is, for want of a better word, wanting it’s way through ALL thoughts, feelings and needs until ALL are left…wanting.

It is time, for us all, to take measure. It is time for us all, to want the best, for one another. I want the best, for you. I will give my best, to you…

The only way I know how.

Be encouraged.

You are loved.

Keep being you…the only way you know how.

I love you.

Who is this girl, who looks at me?

Who is this girl, who looks back at me?

Mirror, tell me your secrets.

What does she want, from ME?

This girl, who looks at me, from the mirror.

She looks, so old.

I feel, young, inside.

How can we co exist?

This one, who looks at me, through the mirror?

What hides, in her gaze?

What are the truth, behind her eyes?

Eyes, that gaze, at me, through her, through thr mirror.

Is she, a reflection, of me?

Or, I, her?

Who is this woman, who looks at me?

Mirror, tell me your secrets!

Eyes, now old, stares at me, still.

Still gazing, still asking who is this one, now old.

Who looks at me, through the mirror.

Am, I a reflection, of her?

Or, her, I?

Not, I, said she.

Said, I, who then?

Ah.

Aha!

We both turn.

We both seek, The Father’s Heart.

We both seek, The Father’s Lap.

He shall tell us who He sees. When He looks at her, at me, through the mirror.

Father, tell me what YOU see.

Who is this girl, who looks at me?

awed by her,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

God, I’ll be Your Oyster Cracker.

God,

I’ll be Your Oyster Cracker.

I will.

I don’t know why You chose a crusty old broad, like me.

Yet, I will.

I WILL.

I will:

Give, my crusty bread.

Share, my meager spread.

Spread, my crusty bread crumbs.

Yes, God, I shall give my all To You.

What You shall do, with me, is not up to me.

I see myself as stale, at times.

But, I shall trust in what YOU see.

I’ll give this oyster cracker, called me, to any, to all, in need.

To those, who hunger.

I give them God, what I have.

To those, who ask, I share all there is.

Not much, in my eyes.

Plenty, in Yours.

I’ll trust in whom You trust.

Astoundingly, that someone is me.

Ah, Love.

Aha, Abba!

I’ll proudly be Your Oyster Cracker, God.

Serve me to, whosoever will.

Yours,

Cassandra

#YourLIfeMattersToMe

The day I dreaded, was a day I loathed to end.

The day I was dreading, was a day I loathed to end.

The day I hesitated starting, was a day I shall never forget.

The day, I ran from, was a day which will carry me my whole life long.

For that day, THIS day, brought me, full circle to…ME!

Ah, love.

Aha, beloved.

loving me in the day I loathed to end because of the beginning, the middle and…,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

The day I dreaded, I loved.

The day, I was dreading, was a day I loved.

The time, I was regretting spending before it was even spent, was a day, well spent.

The last person I thought I could love. I loved.

The last person I thought could/would love me back, loved…me!

Turns out, that person was me.

Me!

Ah.

Aha!

loving me some me in the day I had dreaded which turned out to be a wondrous, well spent day,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Fighting giants: It’s okay to feel stupid.

It’s okay to feel.

It’s okay to feel:

Vulnerable.

Ridiculous.

Stupid.

Moronic.

Since when, beloved, are you sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo sensitive you can’t even be honest?

With, yoiurself?

With, others?

Sometimes we feel stupid because we have done something really stupid!

Don’t get mad at me.

Get annoyed and mad at YOU.

Get you some act right and move forward.

Period.

End of story.

You do NOT beloved, need to take a poll.

You know, full well, when you have allowed your fear, your anger, your irritation, your hurry, your worry, your anxiety, your this, your that, your everything, your other thing help YOU to CHOOSE to run those flaps called YOUR lips.

No, don’t be getting all up in MY face. You the one did the stupid thing.

But, yet, and still, you are NOT your mistake. You are NOT your dumb. Just cuz you wuz actin a fool and acted like a dummy does not make you so.

Get on up, beloved.

Own your stupid.

Laugh.

At, you.

Then, keep it moving.

Life is short.

Time to get back to being about it.

Okay?

Okay.

*Cassandra turned from the mirror, and got back to being about being about it.*

laughing at me while loving you,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Note: Life is short, beloveds. Time to stop giving yourself such a hard time. When you have acted a fool, STOP acting a fool. Apologize. Fix what you broke. If you can’t, take the wounded thing to God and ask Him to fix it. If it can’t be fixed, ask for grace to be able to live with what you broke because you…*shrug*…does not matter why you broke it. Now, after you have asked forgiveness.

Now, after you have gotten some act right. Leave it be. When God forgives, He forgives. Period. End of story. He does not cram your stupid back in your face. He loves you. He gives you extra love knowing you need it due to your being extra hard on yourself.

It is time, don’t you think, for you to be free of the sin that so easily besets you? Free, of the walls you have locked yourself behind? I think it is. I shall continue to pray for your healing. I shall continue to be relentless in prayers for your freedom. In the meantime, know you are loved and you are not alone. Keep on being…YOU.