I just now, JUST NOW, beloveds, came to an astonishing truth/conclusion:
I have written since mom passed away 2016.
Not really. Not the stories I used to. Not the poems/songs I used to.
I didn’t even realize it until just now. When mom died, God told me to write. To write about it. About her.
For many years, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I didn’t. It’s the one rebellion I definitely kept from God. I wasn’t ready. My dreams went in that casket with her.
Since my friend challenged me to keep my pieces at one minute, and get straight to the point, the writer in me woke up.
I found myself jotting down phrases. Short bursts of feeling found their way onto the pages of my heart.
I found myself speaking to myself, as well as to others. I am calling forth myself. Where has she been hiding all this time?
I don’t know what to make of this development. I shall sit with it a while. I shall see where these words will lead me.
Ah, God, what do I do with me now?
asking for A Friend,
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe
Note: I don’t even know what I am trying to say or who these words are for. You know who you are.
Keep moving forward. Keep discovering those parts of you that hid during times of immense grief and hardship.
Spring is here. It’s time for old dreams to breathe and live again. Rise. We got thangs to do.
One step.
One step.
One step.
You are loved.
You are NOT alone.
Keep on beingβ¦YOU!












