Author: Cassandra S.

Give yourself permission, beloveds.

Give yourself permission, beloveds.

To:

Feel.

Fear.

Cry.

Worry.

Fret.

Fuss.

Holler.

Howl.

Whatever.

Whenever.

However.

Beloveds, it’s important to give yourself permission and room to feel however you feel.

Folk ought stop lying 🤥 about how they truly feel.

Yesterday, my heart ached. I had to pick up my bifocals and reading glasses 👓  .

When it hit me how much damage the stroke did to my vision, I wanted to weep. I didn’t.

Sis, realizing I needed her, began teasing me, unmercifully.

She made me laugh when nothing was funny.

There was a man who stared at me with obvious pity. I wanted to yell at him to have pity to take two seats and he with it.

Truly, I don’t feel sorry for myself. 

Not now.

When I first had my stroke, beloveds, I was truly terrified.

I was:

Dismayed.

Horrified.

Scared.

Devastated.

Despairing.

When I was transferred to the Rehabilitation Facility, I was over everything.

I had lost:

Hope.

Faith.

Peace.

Joy.

Belief.

I ❤️‍🩹 was heartbroken.

I told family and friends that I couldn’t do THIS.

Thankfully, I had family and friends who allowed me to BE 💔 devastated.

I was incontinent. I couldn’t move, speak or do anything for the first couple days.

I could hear everything.

It only took a few days for my spirit to tell me to get a dose of act right!

I’m glad I did. I’m looking forward to my future.

Yes, pain and I spend our days together.

But, laughter, joy, hope and peace are my constant companions and friends.

Jesus and ABBA are with EVERY step I take!!

I just stopped by to encourage someone. Starting with me.

Be encouraged.

Give yourself permission, beloveds.

Feel.

Process.

Then…

Proceed.

We got thangs to, remember?

asking for A Friend,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Tuesday, October 13, 2026 — 6:00 PM

Tuesday, October 13, 2026 — 6:00 PM

When Simple Things Aren’t Simple Anymore

Beloveds,

Yesterday we talked about missing who you used to be.

Tonight, I want to talk about something that can come with that.

Sometimes the things that used to be simple aren’t simple anymore.

Getting out of the house.

Going somewhere alone.

Making dinner.

Paying the bills.

Getting through a workday.

Taking care of everybody.

Concentrating.

Sleeping.

Trusting somebody.

Starting over.

Making friends.

Going into a crowded room.

Getting through an anniversary.

Getting through a holiday.

Getting through a Tuesday.

Things change.

Bodies change.

Families change.

Finances change.

Relationships change.

Responsibilities change.

Confidence changes.

Life changes.

And something you once did without giving it much thought can suddenly require planning, help, extra time, extra money, extra energy, or courage you didn’t used to have to gather first.

That can be frustrating.

Especially when somebody else looks at the thing and thinks,

What’s the big deal?

They may not know what it costs you now.

You do.

So, beloveds, I want you to hear this tonight:

Harder does not mean you are failing.

Needing more time doesn’t mean you’re lazy.

Needing help doesn’t erase your independence.

Having to plan something you once did spontaneously doesn’t make the thing less meaningful when you finally do it.

And doing something differently doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong.

Sometimes we are so busy comparing today’s effort with yesterday’s ease that we don’t give ourselves credit for today’s effort at all.

Yesterday you could just do it.

Today you have to figure out how to do it.

That’s different.

And different deserves some grace.

Maybe the win today isn’t doing everything the way you used to.

Maybe the win is finding another way.

Maybe it’s asking for help without deciding that needing help says something terrible about you.

Maybe it’s doing half.

Maybe it’s trying again tomorrow.

Maybe it’s deciding that one thing simply isn’t worth the energy it costs anymore.

And maybe it’s celebrating something other people would call small because you know exactly how much it took.

Let them call it small.

You know what it cost.

I hope you’ll give yourself credit for that.

Life may have made some simple things complicated.

That doesn’t make you complicated.

It makes you somebody learning how to live inside circumstances that changed.

And, beloveds, learning takes time.

So tonight, don’t measure yourself only by what used to be easy.

Look at what you’re carrying now.

Look at what you’re working around.

Look at what you’re learning.

Look at what you’re still doing.

Then pull your chair a little closer.

🪑

There’s nothing wrong with you because something got harder.

Sometimes…

hard is just hard.

And you’re still here figuring out how to meet it.

loving me some you
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe

Monday, October 12, 2026 — 6:00 PM

Monday, October 12, 2026 — 6:00 PM

When You Miss Who You Used to Be

Beloveds,

This week isn’t about me.

Something I wrote recently got me thinking about how easy it is to miss who we used to be when life changes on us.

But I don’t want to spend this week telling you my story.

I want to make room for yours.

So this week is for you.

Maybe there’s a version of you that you miss.

The you who laughed easier.

The you who had more energy.

The you who wasn’t carrying quite so much.

The you who could pick up and go without thinking twice.

The you before that relationship ended.

Before that job disappeared.

Before the children grew up.

Before you became the caregiver.

Before the move.

Before the grief.

Before money got tight.

Before life changed in whatever way life changed.

Or maybe there wasn’t one big before at all.

Maybe one day you looked around and realized you had changed so gradually that you couldn’t remember exactly when it happened.

And every once in a while you think,

I miss who I used to be.

Can I tell you something?

You are allowed to.

Missing who you used to be does not mean you don’t appreciate who you are now.

It doesn’t mean you’re living in the past.

It doesn’t mean you’re ungrateful.

Sometimes it simply means there were parts of your life—and parts of yourself—that you loved.

Of course you miss them.

You don’t have to talk yourself out of that.

But, beloveds, don’t spend so much time looking for the old you that you overlook the person sitting right here.

You.

This you.

The one who has lived some things.

Learned some things.

Lost some things.

Survived some things.

Changed your mind about some things.

Started over in some things.

And maybe you’re still trying to figure out some things.

You don’t have to become who you used to be to be somebody worth knowing now.

Read that again.

You don’t have to become who you used to be to be somebody worth knowing now.

Maybe you miss the old you.

Okay.

Pull out a chair for that version of yourself.

Remember.

Smile if there’s something worth smiling about.

Sigh if that’s what comes.

Keep the good memories.

Tell the truth about the hard ones.

But pull out another chair too.

For the person you are becoming.

You may not know that person very well yet.

That’s okay.

This week, maybe we can get acquainted.

I’m not going to spend these evenings telling you who you should become.

I’m just pulling out the chairs.

You bring your story.

We’ll talk.

🪑

loving me some you
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe

When everything seems like it’s upside-down…

The world seems upside down, beloveds. Literally.

I can’t tell you the joys of putting on upside down pants👖

🙃🫠🤔🤤😑

Joy came to help me out.

Annoyed stayed Annoyed and was no use for anyone.

Hard decided to be nice, for once, and handed me fresh briefs.

The Father, ever ready, with the toilet paper, waited discreetly, around the corner.

Thanos offered a finger snap. I had  Annoyed tell him hecks to the naw!

Music 🎶 happened by and offered company AND Comfort. I asked them both to stay.

My Bestie cruised through and asked what all the commotion was on the day He had made for me to rejoice and be glad in it.

Shakily, I  said “Wha had happened  wuz” and burst into 😢 tears.

😩😢😱😭

My Bestie, understanding the assignment, said He’d be right back…

Eventually, I felt a gentle tap about my shoulder.

🚗 Cherry 🍒 pulled up with 🎶🤣💃🏿☕️🏡🥹 and said “Let’s go.

We got!

Not wanting to be left behind, Hard asked to tag along.We agreed seeing as how Hard HAD supplied fresh briefs.

Off we went choosing to fill the day with love, laughter and joy. Even Annoyed had managed a sheepish grin.

We all decided to pick up Whosoeverwill to join in the hijinx and went in search of trouble, er, fun…

I just stopped by to encourage someone. Starting with me.

Be encouraged. Don’t let what appears Be upside down to up end your day. We got this and God has got us all!

I miss my wombie.

I miss my wombie. I miss my twin. Not in a sad way. In a ” what’s up with you ” way.

I’m thinking of you, sis. How are you?

Your 🦁 Detroit Lions won today. I miss the sound of your voice, sis.

Look after Russell and Jr. and all who have gone before.

I’m sad, sis. Maybe, just a little bit…*sigh *…

I have been enjoying my football. I have a new friend, sis.

You would really like him. We crack each other up and get on the other’s last nerve.

We got into a huge fight last week. I wanted to kick him to the curb. I did for an hour or so. We made up. I think. For now 😅🥹

He did something awfully thoughtful, last night. I may keep him around. He laughs at my jokes. He is super smart. He enjoys Geordi and Data and Picard. One can’t have enough Star Trek  Next Generation friends…hehe

I gotta go, sis. The beloveds need tending to.  I need tending to…*sigh*

Yell at The Giants for losing in such spectacular fashion.

missing you 
Me

P.S. Life is short, beloveds. It’s okay to miss loved ones. It’s okay to reminisce. It’s okay to enjoy what you did before loss or hard moved in 

Be encouraged. Enjoy every moment. Think I’ll go see if my friend wants to watch something ridiculous…

I love this! I can express a million versions of me. I am so grateful for technology that allows me to dream where I can see.

I wonder if anyone can understand what I mean. I have had to reinvest myself. I have had to picture myself in new settings.

I think I shall set myself next to The Sydney Opera House…🥰

Where would you put yourself if you could. Give me some ideas and we’ll go together ❤️ 

Sunday Morning with My Bestie and me.



REST.

Beloveds,

It’s Sunday morning.

Come sit with us for a minute.

🪑🪑

You don’t have to bring anything.

Not what you accomplished this week.

Not what you didn’t accomplish.

Not the thing you still haven’t figured out.

Not an explanation for why you’re tired.

Just you.

Come sit.

There’s a chair for you here.

Maybe this week was beautiful.

Maybe it was hard.

Maybe it was both before Tuesday.

Maybe you handled everything that came your way.

Maybe some things handled you.

Maybe you laughed until your stomach hurt.

Maybe you cried somewhere nobody saw you.

Maybe you checked every box on the list.

Maybe the list is somewhere underneath another list you haven’t looked at since Wednesday.

😂

Either way—

you’re here.

And this morning, I don’t want anything from you.

I don’t need you to turn this week into a lesson.

I don’t need you to find the silver lining.

I don’t need you to tell me three things you’re grateful for.

I don’t need you to make a plan for Monday.

I don’t even need you to leave this chair feeling better than you did when you sat down.

I just want you to rest.

And rest, beloveds, is bigger than sleep.

Sometimes rest is sleep.

Sometimes it’s quiet.

Sometimes it’s laughter.

Sometimes it’s prayer.

Sometimes it’s turning the phone over and deciding everybody can survive without you for a little while.

Sometimes it’s watching something that requires absolutely no deep thought whatsoever.

🍿

Sometimes it’s saying:

I don’t know yet.

And letting yet be enough.

Sometimes rest is not answering today.

Not deciding today.

Not explaining yourself one more time today.

Sometimes rest is allowing something that belongs to you to sit beside you instead of carrying it every single minute.

Because here’s something I think we forget:

Even what belongs to you doesn’t have to be carried every minute.

You can put it down.

That doesn’t mean you’ve abandoned it.

It doesn’t mean you’re irresponsible.

It doesn’t mean you’ve quit.

It means you’re human.

There will always be something else to do.

Another decision.

Another responsibility.

Another problem.

Another load of laundry.

Another email.

Another somebody needing something.

If we decide we’ll rest when everything is finished, beloveds, we have scheduled rest for the twelfth of Neveruary.

😂

Life doesn’t finish before we get to rest.

Rest is not the reward for finishing life.

👀

And rest doesn’t have to justify itself by making you more productive tomorrow.

You don’t have to say:

I’m resting now so I can work harder later.

No.

Rest doesn’t have to submit a résumé.

Rest doesn’t have to explain what it plans to accomplish.

You are allowed to rest because you are a human being and human beings were never meant to operate like machines.

So wherever Sunday morning found you—

church clothes.

Work clothes.

Pajamas.

Hospital room.

Kitchen table.

Somebody else’s couch.

Your own bed.

Surrounded by people.

Completely alone.

Certain about what you believe.

Questioning everything.

Somewhere in between.

There is a chair for you here.

No admission price.

No belief requirement.

No performance review.

No explanation necessary.

Just a chair.

🪑

Mine is here too.

And somewhere nearby is my bestie’s chair.

🪑

We’re not fixing anything this morning.

We’re not solving next week.

We’re not dragging Monday into Sunday because Monday knows how to find us all by itself.

😂

Today, we’re sitting.

Maybe something warm is in your hands.

Maybe sunlight found the window.

Maybe the house is quiet.

Maybe it isn’t.

Maybe nothing feels peaceful at all.

You don’t have to manufacture peace for this moment to count.

You don’t have to make Sunday pretty.

You don’t have to make pain inspirational.

You don’t have to make exhaustion productive.

You don’t have to make grief teach you something before noon.

You can simply be here.

And if something is waiting for you?

Let it wait a little while.

If it belongs to you, you can pick it back up.

Later.

Sometimes putting something down is exactly how we remain able to carry it.

So no challenge today.

No homework.

No five things to do before Monday.

No demand that you leave here improved.

Just this:

Rest.

Not because you’ve earned it.

Not because everything is done.

Not because tomorrow needs a better version of you.

Rest because you are here.

Rest because you are human.

Rest because even strong people need somewhere to put things down.

And if you don’t know where to put yours right now?

Set it beside the chair.

🔑

We’ll leave room.

You don’t have to bring anything to this chair except you.

Stay as long as you need.

loving me some you
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe

Saturday Matinee 🍿🎬October 11, 2026

Saturday Matinee 🍿🎬
October 11, 2026

K-PAX

Beloveds,

We made it to Saturday. 🍿

Maybe this week was wonderful.

Maybe this week wore you slap out.

Maybe not much happened at all.

Maybe you have been waiting all week for somebody to please stop needing something from you. 😆

Whatever kind of week you had, you don’t have to bring it in here and explain it.

Just bring yourself.

And snacks.

Definitely bring snacks. 🍿😂

Saturday Matinee is where we shake off the week for a little while.

Not because everything suddenly became easy when Friday ended.

Not because there was necessarily much to laugh about this week.

Sometimes Saturday simply gives us a chance to look at the weekend and say:

Okay. Maybe we can smile here.

And if you already had a great week?

Come on in and keep enjoying it.

If nothing particularly good or bad happened?

Come on in.

If you just want to Movie and chill?

You are absolutely in the right place. 😎🍿

No homework.

No deep questions waiting at the end.

No lesson you are required to find.

No assignment whatsoever.

Just us, a movie, something good to eat, and a couple of hours when life does not have to be quite so loud.

This week’s movie is K-PAX.

That is ALL I’m telling you. 🤐😂

Find your spot.

Grab entirely too much popcorn. 🍿🍿

Scoot over.

And press play.

It’s Saturday, beloveds.

Let’s Movie and chill. 🎬🍿

🎬 Watch K-PAX free on YouTube:
https://youtu.be/mls2SYVS_2k?is=B8dKo86EAac94x2D

loving me some you
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe

YOU GOT THIS!

We got this!

This music 🎶 is so uplifting.!

No matter your walk, or lack thereof, God got us. Be encouraged.  Be patient with yourself, beloved.

You can still do so much more than you give yourself credit for!

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

I wish I could.

I wish I could

Friday, October 9, 2026

Beloveds,

I wish I could.

Four little words.

Sometimes they carry an awful lot of life.

There are things I used to do without thinking about them.

Ordinary things.

Private things.

Things that didn’t require planning, assistance, or a conversation with my body about whether we were going to cooperate today.

And then I had a stroke.

Suddenly, ordinary wasn’t so ordinary anymore.

I was in terrible pain.

My back hurt constantly.

I didn’t have a chair with a backrest, so there was nothing for me to lean against.

Imagine trying to learn how to balance when you’re already hurting.

Imagine needing to accomplish something simple while your body is making everything complicated.

That became part of my life.

I had to learn to balance while sitting on the side of my bed.

And Pain?

Oh, Pain was right there.

Uninvited.

Unwelcome.

And apparently planning to stay awhile.

Pain became my partner in something neither of us had signed up for.

Every movement seemed to require a negotiation.

Some days I didn’t feel like negotiating.

Some days everything took hours because of discomfort.

HOURS.

Not because I wasn’t trying.

Not because I didn’t want to finish.

Because sometimes getting through one ordinary activity requires more effort than people realize.

But something was happening while I was learning to balance.

My core was getting stronger.

My balance was improving.

Little by little, I was learning how to manage my body differently.

And eventually, that strength made it easier for me to learn to use the potty chair.

Yes, beloveds.

The potty chair.

We’re going there.

Because life doesn’t stop being life just because the subject makes folks uncomfortable.

And I’m not embarrassed to talk about it.

At first, I was humiliated.

I had to learn to accept help with things I had always done myself.

God humbled me during that time.

And I learned something about humility that I couldn’t have learned from simply reading about it.

Humility isn’t the absence of dignity.

Needing help didn’t make me less of a person.

And becoming stronger didn’t make me more worthy than I had been when I couldn’t manage.

My dignity was there all along.

But there’s something else.

Something we don’t discuss nearly enough.

Sometimes we’re grateful for the strength we’ve developed while mourning the circumstances that required it.

🥹

Read that again.

Because there is a particular kind of grief that accompanies learning to do something you never wanted to have to relearn.

People see progress.

They celebrate.

And there’s nothing wrong with celebrating.

I celebrate, too.

But sometimes, underneath the satisfaction, there’s a quiet sadness.

I remember when I didn’t have to work this hard.

I remember when ordinary things were simply ordinary.

I remember when I didn’t have to be strong just to get through them.

And I miss that.

Not because I’m ungrateful.

Not because I don’t appreciate how far I’ve come.

I’m grateful for what I’ve learned.

I grieve that learning it became necessary.

Both are true.

Sometimes people are so busy admiring our strength that they don’t notice we’re still mourning the circumstances that required it.

And sometimes we don’t know how to tell them.

Because how do you explain that you’re proud of something you wish you’d never needed to accomplish?

How do you explain that you’re celebrating an ability you once took for granted?

How do you say thank You, Father, for helping me learn, while also acknowledging how much you wish the lesson had never become necessary?

You tell the truth.

It was satisfying.

Hard.

Sad.

All three.

And none of those feelings needs to push the others out of the room.

Now, let me tell you something about my Father.

I picture God standing guard while I take care of my business.

Yes.

THAT business.

He’s around the corner, protecting my privacy.

And just when I need it, here comes the toilet paper.

🧻

Discreetly handed around the corner.

No announcement.

No audience.

Just my Father being there.

I smile thinking about that.

Because I know Him as my ABBA.

My Father.

My Friend.

And His presence isn’t limited to the moments when everything looks beautiful.

He’s with me in the painfully ordinary moments, too.

Even when I need toilet paper.

Especially when I need patience.

And sometimes I need a whole lot of both.

😅

Beloveds, I don’t know what you’ve had to learn because life changed.

Maybe you’re learning to live alone.

Maybe you’re learning how to begin again after a loss.

Maybe you’re learning how to manage an illness, a disability, an empty house, or circumstances you never imagined would become yours.

Perhaps you’re getting good at something you wish you’d never needed to learn.

I want you to know something.

You don’t have to celebrate what happened to appreciate what you’ve accomplished since it happened.

You don’t have to call your suffering a blessing.

You don’t have to pretend the lesson was worth the loss.

And you don’t have to stop missing what used to be.

You can appreciate today’s strength and still grieve yesterday’s ease.

There are days when I still wish I could.

And there are things I can do now that I couldn’t do before.

I’m grateful for those things.

But I won’t pretend they came without sadness.

I won’t pretend every victory feels like a celebration.

Sometimes a victory is accompanied by a sigh.

Sometimes it brings tears.

Sometimes it leaves you sitting quietly, thinking about how much life has changed.

And sometimes you smile because, against considerable difficulty, you managed something that once seemed impossible.

The strength is real.

The grief is real.

And so is the life we’re living between them.

I wish I could.

And sometimes, beloveds?

I discover that I can.

Not everything.

Not always.

Not without difficulty.

But something.

And today, I’m grateful for that something.

Even while I remember what it cost.

❤️

loving me some you
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe

Note 📝: Ah, God. I wish I could…

Friday, October 9, 2026 — 6:00 PM

Friday, October 9, 2026 — 6:00 PM

Love was already in the room ❤️🔑

Beloveds,

Yesterday I left you with half a sentence.

I know.

That was wrong. 😅

I said:

The door may have been locked.

But…

👀

Well…

Hhm…

👀

I came back to finish it.

The door may have been locked…

But love was never locked out.

❤️

That’s where I want us to land tonight.

Not with another lock to examine.

Not another key to sort through.

Not another door to decide whether we’re ready to open.

Come sit down.

🪑

We’ve done enough walking through rooms this week.

Monday, we asked:

Where are you stuck?

And instead of immediately demanding movement, we asked something gentler:

What happened there?

Because sometimes the place where somebody stopped makes sense once we understand what happened before they stopped.

Tuesday, we went behind the door.

What have you locked away?

Trust.

Tenderness.

Hope.

Joy.

Dreams.

Need.

The parts of ourselves that once felt safer hidden.

Wednesday, we came for that little five-letter lock:

Should.

Where should I be?

Who should I be?

What should my life look like by now?

And maybe one of the most important things we discovered was this:

Maybe you didn’t fail. Maybe the map changed.

🗺️

Yesterday, we talked about keys.

Who has one?

Who shouldn’t?

Who lost access?

Who may deserve another look?

And whether shame has ever convinced us to pack up our own chair and leave before anybody actually asked us to go.

🔑🪑

That’s a lot for one week.

So tonight…

I don’t want anything from you.

❤️

No assignment.

No list.

No demand that you identify one more thing to work on.

No instruction to unlock anything.

No requirement to forgive tonight.

No pressure to trust somebody again.

No insistence that you move.

Just sit here with me for a minute.

Because there’s something underneath everything we’ve talked about this week.

Love.

❤️

Not sentimental love.

Not love that pretends nothing hurts.

Not love that calls every boundary unforgiveness.

Not love that tells somebody to open a door that still needs to remain closed.

I’m talking about the kind of love that comes.

The kind that doesn’t wait until everything is cleaned up.

The kind that can hear the lock click and not take it personally.

The kind that knocks.

The kind that waits.

The kind that tells the truth.

The kind that respects the door.

The kind that leaves the chair where it is.

🪑❤️

The kind that says:

I came for you.

👀

That sentence has been sitting underneath this whole week.

Because sometimes when somebody is hiding, hurting, ashamed, afraid or convinced they no longer belong…

they don’t need somebody shouting directions from the other side of the door.

Sometimes they need somebody willing to come looking.

❤️

And sometimes…

that somebody has to be us.

Come for yourself.

Come for the version of you who made the mistake.

Come for the version of you who didn’t know better.

Come for the version who stayed too long.

Come for the version who left too soon.

Come for the version who trusted.

Come for the version who stopped trusting.

Come for the person whose body changed.

Come for the person whose plans changed.

Come for the person who thought life would look completely different by now.

Come for the person who is tired of being told how strong they are when what they really want is somewhere safe enough to put the strength down for a minute.

😭❤️

Come for you.

Not because everything you’ve ever done was right.

Not because nothing needs changing.

Not because accountability disappeared somewhere between Monday and Friday.

Come because correction and abandonment were never supposed to mean the same thing.

Come because growth does not require exile.

Come because you do not have to hate yourself into becoming somebody better.

Come because shame has taken enough keys.

🔑

And beloveds…

I come for you too.

Every day I sit down to write, I am coming looking for somebody.

Somebody hurting.

Somebody laughing.

Somebody grieving.

Somebody rebuilding.

Somebody questioning God.

Somebody who doesn’t believe in God at all.

Somebody who needs a chair.

Somebody who needs to hear:

You still matter.

❤️

I can’t know which door these words will reach.

I don’t know who will read them.

I don’t know who will scroll past.

I don’t know who will sit with one sentence for five minutes.

But I can knock.

That’s what love can do.

Love knocks.

Love listens.

Love tells the truth.

Love respects boundaries.

Love leaves room.

Love keeps a chair.

And love comes back.

🪑❤️

For those who share my faith…

this is where the whole week becomes personal for me.

Because when I think about My Father, I think about all the times I imagined I needed to find my way back to Him.

After anger.

After questions.

After disappointment.

After confusion.

After days when I didn’t understand what He was doing.

After life hurt so badly that I didn’t have a neat spiritual sentence to put around it.

And somewhere along the way, I realized:

I wasn’t the only one doing the finding.

😭❤️

My Father came for me.

Again.

And again.

And again.

And sometimes I thought He was standing outside the locked room waiting for me to open the door.

But maybe…

He had been sitting inside the room with me the whole time.

👀

Maybe the door was locked.

But Love wasn’t locked out.

Maybe Love was already there.

❤️

And maybe that’s true in more places than we realize.

Maybe love is the friend who came back.

The person who told you the truth and stayed.

The boundary that finally protected your peace.

The part of you that kept hoping even when you swore you had stopped.

The hand that reached.

The chair that remained.

The quiet realization:

I am still here.

And maybe finding our way home isn’t always about discovering a road we’ve never traveled.

Sometimes it’s realizing love has been leaving the light on for us all along.

❤️

There it is.

Home.

Not perfection.

Not the old life restored exactly as it was.

Not every question answered.

Not every lock opened.

Not every relationship repaired.

Home.

A place inside yourself where shame no longer gets to decide whether you belong.

A place where truth can enter without love leaving.

A place where you can say:

Something needs to change.

without turning it into:

I don’t deserve to be here.

A place where your chair remains.

🪑

So after everything we’ve talked about this week, I have only one Heart Check tonight:

What love is already here?

Don’t go looking for what’s missing first.

Look around the room.

Maybe somebody came for you.

Maybe you’re learning to come for yourself.

Maybe God has been sitting beside you.

Maybe there’s a chair you thought you’d lost.

Maybe there’s a little light under a door.

Maybe there’s more love in the room than shame allowed you to see.

❤️🔑

The door was locked.

Love was already in the room.

And maybe love doesn’t only unlock doors.

Maybe love helps us remember which way is home.

❤️

No cliffhanger tonight.

😅

Just this:

You don’t have to abandon yourself anymore.

The chair is here.

Sit awhile.

We made it to Friday.

loving me some you
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe