MOM, WOMBIE, LET’S LOVE THE WORLD TOGETHER. 🌎❤️‍🔥

MOM, WOMBIE, LET’S LOVE THE WORLD TOGETHER. 🌎❤️‍🔥

Beloveds,

We have grieved.

❤️‍🩹

We have talked about March.

We have given away the flowers.

💐

We have gone home.

🧸

And now—

come outside with me.

🌎

There is still a whole world out here.

People waking up.

People going to sleep.

People laughing.

People grieving.

People praying.

People questioning.

People falling in love.

People falling apart.

People beginning again.

People who look nothing like us.

People who believe differently.

People whose languages we don’t speak.

People whose stories we’ll never know.

People.

And I love them.

🌎❤️

I don’t mean I know eight billion people.

Good grief.

🤣

I don’t.

I couldn’t.

And neither can you.

So when I say:

Let’s love the world together,

I am not assigning you eight billion people.

Nah, fam.

Jesus already has the Savior position covered.

🙏🏿

We get to be human.

And humans can love humans.

One at a time.

🪑🪑

That’s why I keep seeing those two chairs.

One for me.

One for you.

No stage required.

No microphone.

No enormous organization.

Sometimes changing somebody’s world begins with:

Sit with me.

And sometimes I see two fishing poles.

🎣🎣

Not because we’re guaranteed to catch anything.

Sometimes companionship is sitting beside somebody while absolutely nothing spectacular happens.

Waiting.

Talking.

Being quiet.

Laughing.

Watching the water.

Staying.

Maybe that’s love too.

❤️

Mom taught me something about love simply by loving.

Wombie carries her pieces.

I carry mine.

You carry pieces from whoever loved you.

🧩

And love travels.

Someone loves you.

You love somebody.

They love somebody.

That person carries something home.

❤️➡️❤️➡️❤️➡️❤️

Eventually nobody remembers where the first kindness began.

Good.

Love doesn’t always need credit.

It needs somewhere to go.

🌎

That’s why:

Your life matters to me.

It doesn’t mean I can fix your life.

It doesn’t mean I know your story.

It doesn’t mean I’ll always agree with you.

It doesn’t mean boundaries disappear.

It means:

I refuse to begin by deciding you don’t matter.

👀❤️

Black.

White.

Brown.

Woman.

Man.

Gay.

Straight.

Believer.

Agnostic.

Atheist.

Angry.

Quiet.

Loud.

Disabled.

Walking.

Rolling.

Speaking differently.

Speaking with an accent.

Speaking perfectly.

Struggling to speak at all.

Human.

🌎

Come sit down.

🪑🪑

You don’t have to resolve before you belong.

And you don’t have to become me.

Please don’t.

🤣

This world already has a Cassandra.

One is plenty.

🥰

I want you.

Keep on being…YOU!

That’s not decoration at the bottom of my posts.

I mean it.

Bring your voice.

Bring your language.

Bring your history.

Bring your questions.

Bring your joy.

Bring the parts somebody told you were too loud.

Bring the parts somebody couldn’t hear.

Bring yourself.

❤️‍🔥

Because love that requires somebody to disappear before they can receive it isn’t the kind of love I’m talking about.

See my difference.

But don’t make my difference all you see.

See the person.

👀

That’s the assignment.

Not perfection.

Not saving everybody.

Not solving every problem before bedtime.

Just:

Who is in front of me?

Who needs another chair?

Who needs somebody to listen?

Who needs somebody to believe them?

Who needs somebody to say their name correctly?

Who needs somebody to stay?

Who needs somebody to laugh with them?

Who needs somebody to cry beside them?

Who needs to hear:

Your life matters to me.

❤️‍🩹

That’s how we love a world too big for any one of us to hold.

We don’t hold the whole thing.

We hold one another.

🫂🌎

One person.

Then another.

One chair.

One conversation.

One kindness.

One flower.

One fishing pole.

One step.

One step.

One step.

👣❤️

And eventually maybe we look around and realize:

The world wasn’t some enormous thing somewhere “out there.”

It was us.

All along.

People.

Mothers.

Wombies.

Daughters.

Friends.

Strangers.

Grievers.

Laughers.

Questioners.

Believers.

People carrying scars.

People carrying flowers.

People carrying names.

People carrying Marches that never came.

People sitting beside empty chairs.

People pulling up new ones.

We ARE the 🌎.

❤️‍🔥

Mom,

your love reached me.

🧸

I’m going to keep passing it.

Wombie—

come on.

❤️

Beloveds—

y’all coming?

Because Jesus said:

It is finished.

His work is done.

And those of us still here have people to love.

Not someday.

Not when everything is perfect.

Not when we finally understand everybody.

Now.

So grab a chair.

🪑

Grab another.

🪑

Grab those fishing poles.

🎣🎣

Bring your flowers.

💐

Bring your heart.

❤️

And come with me.

We don’t have to save the world.

We can love it.

Together.

One human being at a time.

One step.

One step.

One step.

🌎❤️‍🔥

Your life matters to me.

You are loved.

You are NOT alone.

Keep on being…YOU!

And while we’re both still here—

LET’S LOVE THE WORLD TOGETHER.

🌎❤️‍🔥

Asking for A Friend,
Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe