Author: Cassandra S.

DO NOT REDUCE ME TO WHAT CHANGED.

DO NOT REDUCE ME TO WHAT CHANGED.

Beloveds.

Something can change about a person without becoming the definition of the person.

Read that again.

Because we do this to people all the time.

We meet the diagnosis.

The disability.

The divorce.

The grief.

The unemployment.

The mistake.

The scar.

The wheelchair.

The cane.

The changed voice.

And somewhere along the way, we stop looking for the whole human being.

👀

Yesterday we talked about this:

A changed voice is still a voice.

Today I want to take that one step further.

A changed thing is not necessarily the whole thing.

I can tell you what changed about me.

I can also tell you what didn’t.

I still laugh.

I still think.

I still dream.

I still love.

I still have opinions.

Plenty of them. 😎

I still enjoy music.

I still enjoy movies.

I still have something to say.

I am still learning.

Still growing.

Still becoming.

Still me.

And beloveds, this is bigger than my story.

Sometimes somebody is going through the hardest chapter of their life and everybody around them starts treating the chapter like it is the title of the whole book.

It isn’t.

See what happened.

Acknowledge what changed.

Make room for what hurts.

Help where help is wanted.

But keep looking for the person.

Jesus met people in circumstances other people had already used to define them.

The blind man.

The woman at the well.

The man at the pool.

The woman caught in adultery.

He saw what was happening.

But He also saw who was there.

That matters to me.

And if Jesus is not part of your belief system, the human challenge remains:

Do not make somebody disappear behind the thing you noticed first.

Tomorrow we’re talking about joy.

And that belongs here too.

Because people living with hard thangs are still allowed to laugh.

People grieving are still allowed to dance.

People whose bodies changed are still allowed to enjoy their bodies and their lives.

People rebuilding are still allowed to have a ridiculously good day.

💃🏿

Do not be surprised when somebody you have filed under struggling starts laughing.

Do not be confused when somebody you have filed under disabled starts living loudly.

Do not assume somebody you have filed under grieving has betrayed their grief because you caught them smiling.

Human beings are bigger than one adjective.

🔑 See the change.

But keep looking.

There is a whole person standing there.

You matter to me.

Not just the easiest part of you to describe.

Not just the hardest thing that ever happened to you.

You.

Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe

Tuesday, October 6, 2026 — 6:00 PM

Tuesday, October 6, 2026 — 6:00 PM

What have you locked away? 🔐❤️

Beloveds,

Yesterday I left you behind a door.

I told you I was coming back.

I came back.

So…

What have you locked away?

Not what did somebody take from you.

Not what disappeared.

Not even what you lost.

What did you put somewhere safe because life taught you that leaving it out in the open hurt too much?

Your trust?

Your tenderness?

Your joy?

Your ability to believe somebody when they say, “I’m staying”?

Your dream?

Your hope?

Maybe even a piece of yourself?

Sometimes we lock things away because we are trying to survive.

And sometimes that works.

For a while.

A locked door can keep something from getting hurt again.

But, beloveds, a locked door works both ways.

It can keep danger out.

It can also keep you from reaching what you put inside.

👀

That’s the part I’ve been thinking about.

Some of the things we call walls were once protection.

Some of the things we call distance were once survival.

Some of the things we criticize ourselves for today may have been exactly what helped us make it through yesterday.

So I’m not asking you to beat yourself up for locking the door.

I’m asking something different.

Do you still need it locked?

👀🔐

Because something can begin as protection without having to become a life sentence.

Maybe you are not ready to throw the door wide open.

Okay.

Maybe today you only stand in front of it.

Maybe you put your hand on the knob.

Maybe you finally admit what is behind there.

Maybe you find the key.

Maybe you don’t turn it yet.

That still matters.

There is no prize for opening before you are ready.

There is also no rule saying something you locked away during one chapter of your life has to remain there for every chapter that follows.

Your joy may still be in there.

Your softness may still be in there.

Your hope may still be in there.

You may still be in there.

And maybe the question isn’t:

What is wrong with me?

Maybe the question is:

What was I protecting?

And then…

Do I still need to protect it this way?

🔐🗝️

Yesterday we found the door.

Today we looked behind it.

Yeah.

I’m coming for that lock tomorrow.

loving me some you
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe

Heart Check — Tuesday, October 6, 2026

Heart Check — Tuesday, October 6, 2026

What have you locked away? 🔐❤️

Beloveds,

Yesterday we asked where we might be stuck.

We didn’t kick down any doors.

We simply asked what happened there.

Today I want to go a little deeper.

What have you locked away?

Not your jewelry.

Not your important papers.

You.

👀

What part of yourself did you decide was safer behind a locked door?

Maybe your tenderness.

Your trust.

Your joy.

Your anger.

Your grief.

Your creativity.

Your voice.

Your ability to dream.

Your need to be loved.

Your willingness to need anybody at all.

Maybe somebody taught you that being soft made you weak.

So you got hard.

Maybe somebody laughed when you dreamed out loud.

So you stopped telling people what you wanted.

Maybe you trusted someone with the tender parts of you and they mishandled them.

So you decided nobody else would ever get close enough to do that again.

Maybe you cried and somebody told you to get over it.

So now you cry where nobody can see.

Maybe you needed help once and nobody came.

So you built an entire identity around:

I don’t need anybody.

🔐

Beloveds, sometimes the things we call personality are actually protection we have worn for so long that we forgot when we put it on.

And protection isn’t automatically bad.

Some locks were necessary.

Some boundaries saved us.

Some closed doors gave us enough quiet to survive what was happening on the other side.

So this isn’t about judging the lock.

Remember what we said yesterday:

What happened here?

❤️

But there is another question worth asking.

Is what protected me then still protecting me now—or is it keeping me from something I want today?

👀

Because a shelter can become a prison without us noticing when the danger has changed but the door remains locked.

And sometimes we don’t only lock other people out.

We lock ourselves in.

We want connection but won’t risk being known.

We want joy but feel guilty whenever it arrives.

We want to dream but immediately tell ourselves why the dream can’t happen.

We want love but distrust it when it comes near.

We want to be seen but hide everything that might allow somebody to actually see us.

And then shame enters.

Shame is a sneaky little locksmith.

It can take one painful experience and start installing locks everywhere.

One rejection becomes:

Nobody will choose me.

One mistake becomes:

I always mess everything up.

One betrayal becomes:

Nobody can be trusted.

One correction becomes:

I’m not good enough.

One changed plan becomes:

I failed.

And pretty soon we aren’t simply remembering what happened.

We are building an identity from it.

❤️🔐

But you are more than the worst thing somebody did to you.

You are more than the worst thing you did.

You are more than the thing that didn’t work.

You are more than the person who left.

You are more than the plan that changed.

You are more than the door you had to close.

And maybe there is something behind that door that deserves your love.

Not somebody else’s love first.

Yours.

Maybe you need to go looking for the part of yourself you locked away.

Not to drag them into the light.

Just to sit beside them.

🪑

Maybe say:

I know why you hid.

I know why you stopped trusting.

I know why you stopped dreaming.

I know why you needed this door.

But I came for you.

😭❤️

Because love does not always arrive carrying a crowbar.

Sometimes love arrives carrying a chair.

It sits.

It stays.

It tells the truth.

And eventually, when the person behind the door is ready…

love may become the key.

🔑

For those who share my faith, this is one reason God’s love means so much to me.

I don’t believe God only comes looking for the polished pieces of us.

He comes for the frightened ones.

The angry ones.

The questioning ones.

The grieving ones.

The ashamed ones.

The ones hiding behind doors we don’t even know how to open yet.

And sometimes we discover what we talked about yesterday:

God wasn’t standing outside waiting for us to become brave enough to open the door.

He was already there.

❤️

So today’s Heart Check isn’t asking you to unlock anything either.

Just look around your heart.

What did I lock away?

Why did I need to protect it?

Is that protection still serving me?

And maybe the hardest question:

Have I been calling something “gone” that is actually still inside me, waiting to be loved?

🔐❤️🔑🪑

Tomorrow we’re going to talk about one little word that can build an awfully big lock.

Should.

loving me some you
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe

I was only trying to eat some crackers 😅

I was only trying to eat some crackers 😅

Beloveds, I’m in a goofball mood this 🌄 morning. Laugh with me…

I have to take my morning medication with food.

It was too early for an actual meal, and I was still entirely too tickled from negotiating with hard for some PTO, so I decided Ritz crackers would do.

Simple.

Quiet.

Responsible even.

Ritz looked at me and said,

“Nah fam.”

👀

Excuse me?

I know a cracker did not just get smart with me before sunrise.

Before I could properly address Ritz, Ziploc showed up.

Nobody called Ziploc.

Nobody asked Ziploc.

But Ziploc took one look at the situation and said,

“Both of you need to zip it.”

😐

Oh.

So this is what we doing this morning.

I went and got annoyed.

You remember annoyed.

Blue.

Extra annoyed.

Already irritated about having to exist.

Annoyed came marching into the kitchen like somebody had activated the emergency response system.

“What happened?”

I pointed at Ritz.

Ritz said nothing.

I pointed at Ziploc.

Ziploc suddenly discovered silence.

Interesting.

Then boring showed up.

Now boring had JUST gotten free from PTO jail and should have gone somewhere and enjoyed being boring in peace.

But nooooo.

Boring heard commotion and decided this was the perfect morning to develop a personality.

Boring leaned against the counter.

“So we fighting crackers now?”

I looked at boring.

Annoyed looked at boring.

Ritz looked nervous.

Ziploc tried to disappear into a drawer.

And then amused arrived.

Amused brought coffee and donuts.

☕️🍩

Did amused come to help?

Absolutely not.

Amused pulled up a chair, got comfortable, took a sip of coffee and said,

“Please. Continue.”

😂

About that time, we heard a tiny knock from down the hall.

Everybody froze.

hard peeked around the corner.

“Can I come out now?”

I said, “Are you prepared to respect the PTO agreement?”

hard thought about it.

“Define respect.”

Annoyed stood up.

“OH, I GOT TIME TODAY.”

😂😂😂

Amused reached for another donut.

Boring whispered, “This is why I preferred PTO jail.”

Then peace wandered through in pajamas, surveyed the entire situation and turned right back around.

I couldn’t even blame peace.

😂

And somewhere between Ritz getting disrespectful, Ziploc getting mouthy, annoyed getting more annoyed, boring finding a personality, amused eating donuts and hard trying to renegotiate a contract we JUST signed…

I realized something.

Life can be lifing and still be ridiculous.

Something can hurt and something else can make you laugh five minutes later.

You don’t have to wait until everything is fixed before you’re allowed to enjoy something good.

Joy doesn’t always wait on the other side of hard.

Sometimes joy shows up right in the middle of it.

Sometimes carrying coffee and donuts.

Sometimes hiding inside a ridiculous conversation with a sleeve of crackers.

Sometimes it’s just a few minutes when hard isn’t getting all the attention.

And, beloveds, we’ll take those minutes.

Every single one.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find patience.

Patience is late.

And annoyed has questions.

😅👖☕️🍩

loving me some you
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe

Negotiating with hard for some PTO 👖☕️😂

Negotiating with hard for some PTO 👖☕️😂

PSA: Just thinking about this had me cracking up. You may get a chuckle at how ridiculous my mind gets. Blame God. He made me this way. For, non-believers, blame hard!😅

Beloveds,

So apparently hard and I needed to have a meeting.

I didn’t particularly want the meeting.

I wasn’t even sure who scheduled the meeting.

But hard has been showing up every day like it has perfect attendance and is trying to win Employee of the Month.

Sir.

Ma’am.

Whatever you are.

Have a seat. 😆☕️

We need to discuss your hours.

Because this working arrangement is no longer acceptable.

You’ve been arriving early.

Staying late.

Working weekends.

Showing up on holidays.

And frankly, hard, your commitment to this position is becoming excessive.

So I slid the paperwork across the table.

PTO REQUEST.

hard looked at me.

I looked at hard.

hard looked back at me.

I took a sip of coffee. ☕️

Don’t play with me.

I would like a Tuesday where putting on my pants does not qualify as an Olympic event. 👖😂

I would like an afternoon where absolutely nothing requires courage.

I would like to sit somewhere with a cup of coffee and have the biggest decision I make be whether I want another cup.

The answer is yes, by the way.

Always yes. ☕️🥰

I would like a little boring.

Some ordinary.

A few hours when nobody needs me to be strong, resilient, inspirational, determined, brave, or any other word people use when life has been lifing all over somebody.

I would like some PTO.

Paid.

Time.

OFF.

hard tried to explain company policy.

I stopped listening.

Because, beloveds, sometimes you have to tell hard:

We can coexist, but you cannot have every room in the house.

You can be here without being everywhere.

You can be real without being all there is.

And while I may not always get to choose when hard clocks in, I can still look for places where I get to clock OUT.

Maybe that’s coffee.

Maybe it’s music turned up louder than necessary. 🎶

Maybe it’s laughing at something ridiculous.

Maybe it’s sitting quietly.

Maybe it’s watching a movie you’ve already seen seventeen times.

Maybe it’s talking to somebody who doesn’t need you to explain why you’re tired.

Maybe it’s putting your pants on correctly the first time.

Listen.

We celebrate victories around here. 👖😂💯

And if you’re reading this while hard has been putting in overtime at your house too, come sit by me.

You are not the only one tired of being strong.

You are not the only one who wants a day when life doesn’t require quite so much from you.

You are not the only one who occasionally wants to hand hard a vacation request and say:

Sign it.

😆

And until we get that PTO approved, we’ll find little pockets of it wherever we can.

A song.

A laugh.

A quiet minute.

A good cup of coffee.

A chair.

A breath.

Something that reminds us hard may be part of life right now, but hard is not entitled to all of it.

So, hard?

Meeting adjourned.

I’m taking my coffee.

I’m taking my joy.

I’m taking my beloveds.

And I’m taking the rest of the afternoon off.

You can email me.

I’ll respond in three to five business days.

Maybe.

😂☕️👖🥰

Be encouraged, beloveds.

You are not doing this life thing by yourself.

And if hard won’t approve the PTO?

Tell hard we’re escalating this to management. 😆💯

loving me some you
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe

A CHANGED VOICE IS STILL A VOICE.

Beloveds,

A changed voice is still a voice.

That sentence is simple.

Living it is not.

When the way you communicate changes, people can become impatient.

They can finish for you.

They can misunderstand you.

They can listen to the difficulty instead of listening to the person.

And sometimes you can do the same thing to yourself.

I am learning not to make fluency the admission price for being heard.

My speech can take longer.

My words can arrive differently.

My voice can tire.

And I am still speaking.

Psalm 19:14 says, “Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, my strength, and my redeemer.” KJV

I believe God hears more than polish.

I believe He knows the meditation of my heart even when my mouth has to fight for the sentence.

If faith is not your language, hear this part clearly anyway:

You deserve enough time to communicate.

You deserve not to be disappeared because communication takes effort.

🔑 The key is not sounding like everybody else.

The key is being allowed to sound like yourself.

You matter to me.

And if somebody needs a little longer to say what they mean today, give them the dignity of the whole sentence.

Asking for A Friend,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Comment, share, like, subscribe, or follow if you want to keep this conversation going.

Be encouraged. Tell hard you’re willing to negotiate!😆🥰

Whew.

Whew!

WHEW!

Beloveds,

Thought someone could use a laugh this 🌄 morning. This morning’s text:

Everything is backwards AND upside down. It took forever and a day to get my pants 👖 on the right way. I have learned to laugh when that happens. Okay, maybe not so much laugh as understand this is my new normal, but not.

Think I will spend some time encouraging someone. Starting with me.

I’m no longer asking hard to leave me alone. I DID ask Him(God)to send boring and incredibly boring to spend the foreseeable  with me!😆

This tickled me so much am going to share this exact text on my blog.
Don’t worry, names have been changed to protect the guilty!

HAHAHA!!

Be encouraged, beloveds. Just because life appears to be backwards AND upside down doesn’t mean it is.

Laugh. Hug somebody. Starting with me.

here upside down and all

Cassandra

Note 📝: Never negotiate with fear, tho. Negotiate with hard for some PTO!

Truly, life is worth living. Even when it’s lifing. 💋💯🥰💯☕️👖🤗

Missing me…*sigh*

Missing me

Beloveds,

I miss me.

Not in some deep, philosophical, somebody-call-a-meeting kind of way.

I just miss me.

sigh

I miss taking a long shower without it being something that required thought.

I miss making coffee and sitting there enjoying it while it was still hot.

I miss grabbing my keys, getting in my car and heading for the highway about ten minutes from my apartment.

Sometimes I wasn’t going anywhere.

That was the point.

I would drive for an hour or so with my music blasting.

No appointment.

No destination that needed explaining.

No one waiting for me to arrive.

Just me, the highway and whatever song happened to understand me that day.

Sometimes I would treat myself to a movie.

Sometimes I would stop at Village Inn for coffee and French silk pie.

Sometimes I would grab Popeyes, go home, watch YouTube and turn in early.

Nothing extraordinary.

And maybe that’s what I miss most.

The ordinary freedom of being alone with me.

Solitude used to ride shotgun.

She didn’t talk much.

Didn’t need to.

She knew I wasn’t lonely.

There is a difference.

Solitude and I could sit in a restaurant together.

Go for a drive together.

Watch a movie together.

Drink coffee together.

Do absolutely nothing together.

We were good like that.

Now Solitude comes by sometimes and stands at the door.

I look at her.

She looks at me.

“You remember when we could just go?” I ask.

She smiles.

“I remember.”

sigh

I miss that.

Today, doing almost anything requires another person somewhere in the equation.

Someone to help.

Someone to drive.

Someone to accompany.

Someone to make possible what I once did without thinking twice.

I am grateful for people.

This isn’t about wishing them away.

It is about missing the woman who could say, “I think I’ll go get some coffee,” and then simply pick up her keys.

I miss the privacy of independence.

I miss spontaneity.

I miss changing my mind halfway down the road because there was nobody else’s schedule to consider.

I miss being responsible for nobody’s time but mine.

Mostly?

I miss being enough company to make the day possible.

That’s the part that’s difficult to explain.

Because when I say I miss being alone, somebody might hear loneliness.

I’m not talking about loneliness.

I’m talking about alone me.

The woman who could spend an entire day with herself and never once feel like somebody was missing.

She wasn’t waiting for company.

She was the company.

So tonight I think I’ll leave Solitude’s chair out for a while.

Not because I’m pretending things haven’t changed.

They have.

And not because I’m trying to turn this into one of those tidy little lessons where everything difficult has to reveal its purpose before bedtime.

Nope.

Tonight I’m simply remembering.

A highway.

Music too loud.

Coffee.

French silk pie.

Maybe some Popeyes later.

And a woman perfectly content in her own company.

“Solitude?”

“Yeah?”

“I miss us.”

“I know.”

Another sigh.

Then we sit.

No tears.

No fixing.

Just two old friends remembering when going nowhere was something I could decide to do all by myself.

And, beloveds, sometimes missing who you were isn’t rejecting who you are.

Sometimes…

you just miss you.

I do.

loving me some you
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMeMissing

Monday, October 5, 2026 — 6:00 PM



Where are you stuck? 🔐

Beloveds,

I’ve been thinking about the places inside us that nobody can see.

The rooms we don’t talk about much.

The doors we closed years ago.

The things we tucked away because life kept moving and we had to keep moving with it.

Except sometimes…

part of us didn’t.

Part of us stayed right there.

At the disappointment.

At the goodbye.

At the diagnosis.

At the betrayal.

At the moment the plan changed.

At the day life divided itself into before and after.

And everybody around us may see that we’re still living.

Working.

Laughing.

Showing up.

Taking care of people.

Posting pictures.

Making plans.

Doing what needs to be done.

But somewhere inside us there may still be a locked door.

🔐

So this week at 6 PM, I want to spend some time there.

Not to kick the doors down.

Not to tell anybody to “move on.”

Not to turn five evenings into a self-improvement project.

I want us to look at the locks.

Where they came from.

What they protected.

What shame has done with them.

What “should” has done with them.

Who we’ve given keys to.

And what love might have to say about all of it.

Because I am beginning to believe something:

We cannot understand why we’re stuck if we refuse to honor why we stopped.

❤️

So that’s where we’re beginning.

Not:

Why haven’t you moved?

But:

What happened there?

Because sometimes we look at somebody who hasn’t moved and assume they won’t.

Sometimes we look at ourselves and do the same thing.

Why am I still here?

Why haven’t I gotten over this?

Why am I still afraid?

Why can’t I trust again?

Why haven’t I started over?

Why am I still thinking about something that happened years ago?

Why can’t I just move?

Maybe because something happened there.

❤️

Maybe somebody broke your trust.

Maybe somebody left.

Maybe somebody died.

Maybe the job disappeared.

Maybe the marriage ended.

Maybe your health changed.

Maybe your body changed.

Maybe the future you had already pictured disappeared so quickly that your heart is still trying to understand where it went.

Maybe you tried again and got hurt again.

Maybe you opened the door once and learned exactly why you wanted it locked.

🔐

We have to be careful about calling every closed door fear.

Some doors closed because something on the other side hurt.

Some walls were built because somebody needed somewhere to breathe.

Some locks were installed because, at the time, they were protection.

And this is something I’ve been sitting with:

Some prisons were originally shelters.

👀

Something can save you in one season and confine you in another.

“I won’t let anybody close” may have helped you survive betrayal.

“I don’t need anybody” may have helped when the people you needed didn’t show up.

“I don’t expect anything anymore” may have softened disappointment.

“I’ll handle it myself” may have been the only option you had.

So I’m not coming for your lock tonight.

I’m coming for you.

❤️

Because maybe before we ask whether a door needs opening, we ought to honor the person who needed to close it.

Maybe instead of:

What’s wrong with me?

we ask:

What happened to me?

And then, gently:

Is what protected me then still protecting me now?

👀

Those are different questions.

One carries shame.

The other carries curiosity.

And love needs curiosity.

Love doesn’t stomp up to somebody’s locked door demanding:

OPEN UP!

Love knocks.

Love listens.

Love can sit outside awhile.

Love doesn’t assume the lock is an insult.

Love understands that sometimes the person behind the door learned that opening one could hurt.

🪑❤️

And maybe you’re the person behind it.

Maybe everybody else thinks you ought to be further along.

Maybe you think you ought to be further along.

We’re going to talk about that little word should this week too.

But not tonight.

Tonight I only want you to notice where you are.

No judgment.

No deadline.

No measuring your healing against somebody else’s.

No pretending the lock isn’t there.

Just:

Here I am.

And maybe:

This is why.

❤️

For those who share my faith, I believe God can meet us there too.

Not only after the door opens.

Not only after we get unstuck.

Not only after we become brave.

Right there.

Behind the lock.

Because I have learned something about God through some very hard places:

He does not need me to find my way out before He can find His way to me.

❤️

So tonight, beloveds, I’m not asking you to move.

I’m asking you to notice.

Where are you stuck?

And instead of condemning yourself for still being there…

maybe sit beside yourself for a minute.

You may discover that the person you’ve been frustrated with isn’t refusing to move.

They may simply need somebody to understand why they stopped.

And maybe that somebody can finally be you.

🔐❤️

We’ll come back tomorrow.

I’m not leaving you behind the door.

loving me some you,
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe

Heart Check — Monday, October 5, 2026

Heart Check — Monday, October 5, 2026

Where are you stuck? 🔐❤️

Beloveds,

Before we talk about moving forward, I want to ask something else.

Where are you stuck?

Not where should you be by now.

Not why haven’t you gotten over it.

Not what are you doing wrong.

Where are you stuck?

And maybe an even more important question:

What happened there?

Sometimes we look at the places in our lives where we haven’t moved and immediately call ourselves lazy, afraid, stubborn, weak, unmotivated or unwilling.

But sometimes we are standing still because something happened there.

Somebody left.

Somebody hurt us.

We lost someone.

Our body changed.

Our plans changed.

Our money changed.

Our family changed.

Our career disappeared.

Our heart got broken.

Something we were absolutely certain would happen…didn’t.

Or life simply became something we never imagined it would be.

And we got stuck.

🔐

I want us to be careful with that word this week.

Because sometimes what looks like a prison today started as a shelter.

You closed that door because you needed somewhere safe.

You stopped trusting because trust hurt.

You stopped dreaming because disappointment hurt.

You stopped reaching because rejection hurt.

You stopped expecting because hoping hurt.

You stopped letting people close because somebody taught you that closeness could cost too much.

Maybe that lock served a purpose once.

So today’s Heart Check isn’t:

Why haven’t you opened the door?

It is:

Why did you need to lock it?

❤️

That is a very different question.

One begins with judgment.

The other begins with compassion.

And, beloveds, sometimes we have spent so long judging ourselves for being stuck that we have never stopped long enough to understand the person who got stuck there.

Maybe that person doesn’t need another lecture.

Maybe they need you to come back for them.

👀

Come back for the version of you who was scared.

Come back for the version who didn’t know what to do.

Come back for the version who made the best decision they could with what they knew then.

Come back for the version who survived.

Come back for the version who thought closing the door was the only way to stay safe.

And sit with them awhile.

🪑

Don’t drag them out.

Don’t tell them how long they should have been there.

Don’t tell them everybody else has moved on.

Don’t tell them they are wasting time.

Just come for them.

Because love doesn’t have to kick down a locked door.

Sometimes love simply sits beside it long enough to say:

I’m still here.

🔑❤️

I have learned something about love.

Real love can tell the truth without turning truth into a weapon.

Real love can say something needs to change without saying you are unworthy because it hasn’t changed yet.

Real love can correct without condemning.

Real love can see the lock and still see the person behind it.

And sometimes that person is you.

Maybe today you are the one who needs to hear:

You are still worth coming for.

Not when you’re healed.

Not when you’ve figured everything out.

Not when you’ve finally become who you think you should be.

Now.

Right there.

Behind that door.

❤️

And for those who share my faith, I believe something even deeper.

Sometimes we imagine God standing outside our locked places waiting for us to get ourselves together and come out.

But I have lived enough life to believe differently.

Sometimes I discover that while I was asking why God hadn’t come through the door…

He was already sitting inside the locked room with me.

😭❤️

The door was locked.

Love wasn’t locked out.

So Monday’s Heart Check is not asking you to unlock anything.

Not yet.

Today, just notice.

Where am I stuck?

What happened there?

What was this lock protecting?

And maybe one more:

What would change if I stopped judging the person behind the door and started loving them instead?

We have all week.

Nobody is kicking your door down.

I’ll come back tomorrow.

❤️🔐🔑🪑

loving me some you
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe