Note: Pain won’t leaf me alone. Laugh with me…
Potty Wars, Part 2: Ref Pain Wins a Round! 🏆🚽🤣
Sunday, October 18, 2026 — 12:00 PM
Beloveds,
I have some news.
And I need everybody to remain calm.
Because Ref Pain has won a round.
Yes.
You read that correctly.
Won.
W-O-N.
And I am afraid we may never hear the end of it!
🤣
Remember that referee I introduced this morning?
Black-and-white stripes?
Cap?
Whistle?
A very questionable understanding of sportsmanship?
Well, apparently somebody forgot to tell him that referees are supposed to officiate the game, not enter it.
And there he stood.
Whistle in one hand.
An imaginary trophy in the other.
Looking entirely too pleased with himself.
Now, I have seen some ridiculous behavior in my time, beloveds.
But this gentleman has taken ridiculousness, put it in a striped shirt, and given it a whistle!
TWEEEEET!
WHAT NOW?!
Apparently he wishes to direct our attention to the scoreboard.
The lights begin flashing.
A drumroll sounds.
And there it is.
TODAY’S ROUND
REF PAIN — 1
CASSANDRA — 0
Oh, the audacity!
He has climbed onto the winner’s platform before anybody has even found the refreshments!
And somewhere in the background, I am almost certain I can hear the opening notes of a championship celebration.
Sir.
Please.
This is a potty war.
Not the Super Bowl.
🤣🤣🤣
But beloveds, I want to tell you something about that scoreboard.
Because there is a reason I am allowing Ref Pain to enjoy this particular moment.
Sometimes pain wins.
Sometimes hard wins.
Sometimes the day is simply more difficult than we anticipated.
And I do not believe we have to pretend otherwise.
I have been learning to do things differently.
Things that were once ordinary have required new kinds of patience and determination.
I have discovered what it means to celebrate victories that might look small to somebody who has never had to fight for them.
And I have discovered something else.
A difficult moment does not become less real just because I refuse to give up.
Pain is real.
Frustration is real.
Exhaustion is real.
Disappointment is real.
Sometimes the tears are real, too.
Remember what I said Friday?
Cry won.
And that was okay.
Well, today, Ref Pain gets a point.
And that is okay, too.
Because telling the truth about a difficult moment is not the same as surrendering the rest of your life.
I do not have to rewrite the scoreboard to protect my dignity.
I do not have to insist that every round was a victory.
And I certainly do not have to invent a happy ending before I have finished living the story.
Let Ref Pain enjoy his trophy.
I have something more important than an imaginary scoreboard.
I still have my life.
My laughter.
My love.
My faith.
My ability to recognize joy even when hard has decided to make an appearance.
And I still have the freedom to decide what this moment means to me.
That matters, beloveds.
Because sometimes we place such heavy expectations on ourselves that we make every difficulty into a personal failing.
If we cannot do something today, we call ourselves defeated.
If we need help, we call ourselves burdens.
If we cry, we wonder what happened to our strength.
But I want to ask you something.
Who decided that your value depends upon winning every round?
Who decided that an interruption gets to erase every bit of progress you have already made?
Who decided that needing rest means you have stopped fighting for the life you love?
God did not stop loving you because today was difficult.
His faithfulness did not vanish when the scoreboard changed.
And the love He has for you is not waiting on your next accomplishment.
Beloveds, hear me.
One lost round is not a lost life.
And one painful day is not the whole story.
So I am allowing Ref Pain to have his moment.
Yes, sir.
Take your bow.
Polish your trophy.
Give your acceptance speech.
Please keep it short.
Some of us have other plans!
Because I have just learned that Ref Pain has apparently scheduled a follow-up appearance.
Without consulting me!
At NAP TIME!
Imagine the nerve.
Beloveds, somebody alert the pillows.
This man is out of control!
See you at 6.
still here,
Cassandra
you matter to me. 🧡
