COME WRITTEN ON…EWWW.

NEW DAY, NEW POSSIBILITIES…

COME WRITTEN ON.

Note: I had to redo the cute picture at the top. Brain fog is real. Tweak two, er,Take two 🥰🤭👌🤗😜💃🏿💃🏿

Beloveds.

Ewww. 😜

Yep.

That is where we are starting today.

Not with some perfectly polished declaration about how wonderful everything is.

Not with pretending yesterday didn’t happen.

Not with throwing away pages because some of them got marked up.

Ewww.

😂

And then…

Come written on.

Because a new day does not require a brand-new you.

Sometimes it simply gives the same you another page.

Another opportunity.

Another possibility.

Another place to keep writing.

“Behold, I make all things new.”

— Revelation 21:5 KJV

Notice I didn’t say everything behind you suddenly disappears.

Your past happened.

Your mistakes happened.

Your lessons happened.

Your joy happened.

Your pain happened.

Your growth happened.

Those pages belong to your story.

But a marked-up page is not a ruined book.

👀

Somebody needed that one.

Maybe you made a mistake yesterday.

Maybe yesterday was HARD.

Maybe you are looking at something you said, did, tried, started, stopped, forgot, messed up, or simply did not handle the way you wish you had.

Ewww.

Okay.

Acknowledge the ewww. 😂

But don’t build a house there.

🏡

Turn the page.

You don’t have to deny yesterday to welcome today.

You don’t have to pretend you aren’t disappointed.

You don’t have to erase every mistake before you are allowed to move forward.

Learn.

Grow.

Heal.

Give yourself some grace.

And keep writing.

Because there are still blank spaces ahead of you.

There are still possibilities you haven’t met yet.

There are still lessons you haven’t learned.

There is still joy you haven’t experienced.

There are still people you haven’t loved.

There are still places where your story can make somebody else feel less alone.

And there is still YOU.

Same you.

More to come.

❤️

Today is Tuesday.

A new day.

Not because everything magically became perfect overnight.

But because you woke up with another page.

So what are you going to write on it?

Maybe today you choose growth.

Maybe rest.

Maybe healing.

Maybe laughter.

Maybe starting again.

Maybe simply putting one foot—or wheel—forward and saying:

I am still here.

I am still writing.

And my story is not finished.

Whatever yesterday looked like…

Ewww and all. 😜😂

Come written on.

There is still room.

There are still possibilities.

And Beloveds…

YOU still matter to me.

Whosoeverwill.

Come as you are.

All are welcome.

Cassandra S.
#YourLifeMattersToMe

DISCIPLINE YOUR MIND, STRENGTHEN YOUR FAITH

Beloveds,

This encouraged me. You are NOT forgotten.

For non-believers, you can still benefit from this. Lean on a positive source.

We got this.

handling business,

Cassandra

Running thangs: Fear step off! I run this🤬!

Running thangs: ME!

ABBA.

My Bestie.

Love.

Joy.

Peace.

Thanksgiving.

Laughter.

Hope.

Gratitude.

Integrity.

Honesty.

Truthfulness.

Above ALL things: Him! He’s HIM. If you know, you know. You know?

Beloveds, who or what is running YOUR thangs? You may want to handle some bidnezz of your own Emphasis mine.

Don’t you neva, neva, no, NEVA allow anything to run life for you!

Keeping it a bean 💯!

Cassandra

Fear step off! I run this🤬!

Discouragement step off! I run this🤬!

Despair step off! I run this🤬!

Anger step off! I run this🤬!

Laziness step off! I run this🤬!

Apathy step off! I run this🤬!

Beloveds, life is much too short for you to CHOOSE to allow fools or foolishness to run your life.

If you find yourself among one of the fools, or smack dab in the middle of said foolishness,  beat your own…er, uh, oh! and keep it 💯 👌

Let me hear from you. Hit me up, as young peeps say. Am I sounding cool 😎 yet.🤣🥰😂😍😜🫡🤨🤗🤭

TRUE NORTH: KEEP FIGHTING BACK

Beloveds.

My brain has gone on strike.

Autocorrect is changing every other word.

I wanted to cry.

I didn’t.

I put on praise music to find my True North:

Jesus.

We fought.

I won.

But that sentence needs some explaining.

Because when I say fought, I don’t mean Jesus and I were fighting each other.

Jesus was standing beside me.

He always is.

And when I say I won, I don’t mean everything suddenly went back to normal.

It didn’t.

Come sit with me.

This one needs a minute.

—

THE SNAP

If you’ve watched Avengers: Infinity War, you know about the Snap.

Thanos didn’t snap his fingers and mildly inconvenience everybody.

He didn’t scramble a few words.

He didn’t ruin somebody’s Tuesday.

Half disappeared.

Half.

People.

Families.

Plans.

Futures.

The world everybody knew existed one second—

SNAP.

—and half of it was gone.

The people who remained had to wake up inside a world they recognized…

that no longer worked like the world they remembered.

👀

Beloveds.

My stroke was my Snap.

There.

I said it.

And I need you to understand what I mean before somebody rushes in with an inspirational quote.

I am here.

I am blessed.

I love my life.

I love me.

AND—

I remember the woman whose life had a different kind of ease.

I remember long showers.

Alone.

I remember long drives.

I remember my warbling voice serenading innocent neighbors who had committed no crime worthy of such punishment.

I remember a quiet cup of coffee in the middle of the night.

I remember when the distance between “I want to do this” and doing it was much shorter.

I remember me.

Then came the Snap.

And I was still standing.

But the map had changed.

—

I sat there the other day fighting my phone, my hand hurting, my brain fogging, words changing before they could reach the screen.

Praise music was playing.

Jesus was there.

Of course He was.

I looked at Him.

ME: Jesus.

JESUS: Cassandra.

ME: I don’t like this.

JESUS: I know.

ME: That’s it?

JESUS: What would you like Me to say?

I looked at Him.

You ever want Jesus to be just a little less Jesus?

Asking for A Friend.

ME: I would like You to say this is almost over.

Jesus didn’t answer.

ME: See. That’s exactly why I don’t ask You questions I don’t want answered.

JESUS: Yet here we are.

ME: Yet here we are.

The music kept playing.

I looked down at my hand.

Back at the phone.

Then back at Him.

ME: I miss me.

This time He didn’t answer quickly.

He sat with it.

So did I.

ME: I miss how easy some things used to be.

JESUS: I know.

ME: I don’t want anybody telling me I should just be grateful I’m here.

JESUS: Did I say that?

ME: No.

JESUS: Then don’t put words in My mouth.

👀

Okay then.

Jesus came to work.

ME: I AM grateful.

JESUS: I know.

ME: And I still miss me.

JESUS: I know that too.

And there it was.

No argument.

No correction.

No spiritual lecture.

Two things sitting in the same room:

I am grateful to be here.

and

I am grieving what the Snap took.

Neither one canceled the other.

—

Then I looked up.

Not at Jesus.

Higher.

ME: ABBA?

Silence.

ME: Father, what are You doing?

Still silence.

ME: Because I have QUESTIONS.

Jesus looked at me.

JESUS: I know.

ME: I wasn’t talking to You.

JESUS: I know that too.

I kept looking up.

ME: I don’t understand this map.

The life I knew is still visible from here.

That’s the hard part.

I remember it.

I remember the roads.

I remember the woman who traveled them.

But some of those roads don’t go where they used to go anymore.

Some are blocked.

Some take longer.

Some require help.

Some days I can’t even read the doggone map.

So what do I do with THAT?

Silence.

And somewhere underneath my frustration, the praise music kept playing.

Praise.

👀

Not because everything felt good.

Not because I had received an answer.

Not because the prison door had opened.

Praise while still IN it.

And suddenly I thought about Paul and Silas.

Beaten.

Locked up.

Still in prison.

And at midnight—

they praised.

Not after the chains fell.

Before.

Not after the doors opened.

Before.

They praised while the evidence still said:

PRISON.

I looked at Jesus.

ME: Oh, I see what You’re doing.

JESUS: I haven’t said anything.

ME: You didn’t have to.

I turned the praise up.

—

TRUE NORTH

A map tells you what the terrain looks like.

True North tells you which direction is still North when the terrain changes.

👀

That’s what I had been confusing.

The map changed.

Jesus didn’t.

My circumstances changed.

Jesus didn’t.

My body changed.

Jesus didn’t.

My route changed.

Jesus didn’t.

The Snap changed a whole lot of things.

It did not move North.

I looked over at Him.

ME: You’re my True North.

JESUS: I know.

ME: You could at least act surprised.

JESUS: Cassandra.

ME: Fine.

I looked at the map again.

And for the first time, I stopped demanding that the new map look like the old one before I would move.

That doesn’t mean I stopped missing the old map.

Hear me.

I miss it.

I miss me.

I grieve.

I get frustrated.

Sometimes I want to cry.

Sometimes I DO cry.

Sometimes I have to put the phone down because my hand says, Girl, absolutely not.

Sometimes my brain and I are apparently operating in two different zip codes.

But grief is not the same thing as being lost.

Because I still know North.

—

Then the sky changed.

The air changed.

You know that feeling in an Avengers movie when the music shifts and you know SOMETHING is coming?

That.

I looked at Jesus.

Jesus looked at me.

For once, neither of us said anything.

Because in front of us stood everything that had been coming for me.

Grief.

Pain.

Brain fog.

Fear.

Frustration.

Exhaustion.

Changed plans.

Changed words.

Detours.

Loss.

Hard.

All of it.

Not metaphors anymore.

An army.

I swallowed.

ME: Jesus?

JESUS: I’m here.

Three words.

That was enough.

I reached for what I had.

Not what I used to have.

What I had.

Jesus stepped forward beside me.

Not in front of me like I wasn’t there.

Not behind me sending Cassandra into battle alone.

Beside me.

I looked at the army.

Then at Him.

ME: This seems like an unreasonable number of people for two folk.

JESUS: Cassandra.

ME: Just making an observation.

Then Jesus looked ahead.

And His voice changed.

Not loud at first.

Just certain.

JESUS: Avengers…

He looked at me.

I knew.

I straightened the best I could.

He turned back toward the battlefield.

JESUS: ASSEMBLE.

…

Nothing.

👀

I looked around.

ME: Um.

Jesus said nothing.

ME: Jesus.

Still nothing.

ME: I KNOW You did not just yell Avengers Assemble and nobody—

Then, almost too quietly to hear:

THE FATHER: On your left.

I froze.

Jesus smiled.

I turned.

And there she came.

Tansay.

And behind her—

the Beloveds.

Not spectators.

Not people standing safely somewhere sending thoughts and prayers toward the battlefield.

Coming through.

Then another opening.

FAITH.

Another.

PEACE.

Another.

PRAISE.

Praise came through LOUD.

Because apparently Praise had been waiting on this moment.

Another.

HOPE.

Then—

GRACE.

Then—

PERSEVERANCE.

And the sky opened again.

Michael.

Gabriel.

I looked at Jesus.

ME: You knew.

JESUS: Of course I knew.

ME: You could have told me.

JESUS: And miss your face?

I looked toward Heaven.

ME: Father, You see Him, right?

No answer.

I KNOW He was smiling.

—

And then—

we fought.

Not Cassandra watching everybody else fight for her.

We fought.

Faith met Fear.

Peace walked directly into Chaos.

Hope went after Despair.

Grace stood between me and the voice telling me I should be doing better by now.

Perseverance looked Exhaustion dead in the face and said:

We can rest AND continue.

👀

Praise?

Praise was ridiculous.

Praise went into battle singing.

Because Praise had already learned something in a prison cell centuries ago:

You don’t have to wait for the chains to fall before you praise God.

The Beloveds fought beside me.

Tansay fought.

Michael fought.

Gabriel fought.

Jesus fought.

And Cassandra?

Cassandra fought too.

Not the old Cassandra.

Not some imaginary version of me whose body could do everything it once did.

THIS Cassandra.

The Cassandra who showed up with what she had.

And that mattered.

—

Eventually the battlefield grew quiet.

I was exhausted.

Jesus stood beside me.

I looked around.

The map was still different.

👀

That’s important.

The battle did not magically restore the old map.

Some things were still hard.

Some things were still missing.

I still had questions.

I still missed me.

ME: So this is winning?

JESUS: What do you think winning looks like?

I thought about it.

Long time.

Then I looked behind me.

Beloveds.

Tansay.

Faith.

Peace.

Praise.

Hope.

Grace.

Perseverance.

I looked at myself.

Still here.

Then I looked at Him.

Still Jesus.

ME: Maybe winning isn’t getting everything back.

He waited.

ME: Maybe sometimes winning is knowing where North is when everything else changes.

Jesus smiled.

I looked up.

ME: Father?

Silence.

I smiled too.

ME: Yeah.

I heard You.

—

Beloveds, maybe life has snapped something in your world too.

Maybe your map doesn’t look anything like it did.

Maybe you’re grieving somebody.

Maybe you’re grieving yourself.

Maybe the future you planned disappeared.

Maybe you’re standing in a life you recognize and don’t recognize at the same time.

I’m not going to insult you by telling you it doesn’t hurt.

It does.

I’m not going to tell you faith means you won’t grieve.

I do.

I’m not going to promise everything comes back.

I don’t know that.

Here’s what I can tell you from where I’m standing:

A changed map does not mean you have lost True North.

So cry when you need to cry.

Rest when you need to rest.

Ask God your questions.

Turn up Praise while you’re still IN the thing.

Use what you have today.

And when Hard lines up across the battlefield acting like you’re standing there alone—

look around.

You might hear it too.

Quietly.

From somewhere you weren’t looking.

“On your left.”

👀

And when you turn—

I hope you find somebody standing there.

I gotchu.

I gotcha.

And God has got us all.

The map changed.

True North didn’t.

Still here.

Still His.

Still finding my way,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

When life just won’t stop lifing, choose joy anyhow.

Life won’t stop lifing, beloveds. So much so I texted my circle this :

Could really use some prayers. Brain fog has it hard to think. Everything looks both backwards and upside down at the same time.

On top of all that, my right cheek is numb making talking all but impossible. Both legs are weak making everything take forever.

Holding the phone is painful but I force myself to blog which helps my mind and hopefully one or two people.

I thought about a good cry but talked to mom and wombie and Jr and played uplifting praise 🎶 music on a loop.

I’m exhausted as have been hospitalized three times since April.

I refuse to give up or give in to a pity party. I’m going to keep it moving the best I can.

I’m standing ten toes down on FAITH, HOPE, LAUGHTER and  LOVE.

I’m living my best life. Be encouraged. Have an amazing rest of your weekend. I love me some you. We got this and God has got us all. Cassandra. 🥰

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

I’m grieving the woman I can no longer be.

I’m not sad so much as missing the ease of life.

I miss being able to take a long shower. Alone.

I miss my warbling serenade to all the neighbors.

I miss long drives.

I miss a quiet cup of ☕️ coffee in the middle of the night.

Heckamiah, I miss me! The old me. The boring me.

I wonder if I’m the only one. I think not.

I’m going to sit out some coffee ☕️, some tea and some snacks.

I’ll have your chair waiting.

In case no one has told you today: I love you and God loves us all

here as best I can,

Cassandra

Ah, God, what do we do with us now.  Asking for A Friend…

I TOLD HARD, “HA!”

I TOLD HARD, “HA!”

Beloveds.

Life came for me.

Hard came for me.

And I told Hard—

“HA!” 😂

Now, before somebody thinks Cassandra has finally lost what little sense she had left, let me explain. 😂

I didn’t tell hard it wasn’t hard.

I told hard it wasn’t God.

Sit with that for a minute.

Because I am not going to lie to you and pretend everything that has happened to me has been easy.

It hasn’t.

I’m not going to tell you I haven’t cried.

I have.

I’m not going to tell you I haven’t gotten tired, frustrated, angry, disappointed, scared, or just plain sick and tired of being sick and tired.

I have.

Hard is HARD.

And sometimes faith doesn’t change that fact.

Sometimes prayer doesn’t immediately change the circumstances.

Sometimes you can believe God with everything in you and still wake up tomorrow facing the same thing you were facing yesterday.

I know something about that.

I am taking care of myself.

I’m listening to my doctors.

I’m preparing to begin outpatient therapy.

And I also understand that I may have to live with some residual symptoms from my stroke unless and until God heals me.

Maybe He will.

I believe He can.

But Beloveds, I also have to tell you something that matters deeply to me:

I may not get the miracle I want.

And God will still be God.

I will still be blessed.

I will still love Him.

I will still trust Him.

And I will not blame God for an outcome I don’t like.

Life came for me.

Hard came for me.

I told hard, “HA!”

Not because hard didn’t hurt.

Not because I won every battle.

Not because everything went back to the way it used to be.

Not because I got everything I prayed for.

HA! is not denial.

HA! is me refusing to give hard a promotion it did not earn.

Hard does not get to become God.

Hard does not get to decide whether I laugh today.

Hard does not get to decide whether I love today.

Hard does not get to decide whether I write today.

Hard does not get to decide whether I dream today.

Hard does not get to decide whether I LIVE today.

And perhaps that is what living your best life really means.

Maybe your best life isn’t the life you would have chosen.

Maybe it isn’t the life you planned.

Maybe living your best life means taking the life you have—

and living the mess out of it anyway.

Laugh while something still hurts.

Call somebody you love.

Watch the movie.

Play the music.

Eat something delicious.

Write the thing.

Go to therapy.

Ask for help.

Take the nap.

Cry when you need to cry.

Start again when you’re able.

Sit still when you’re not.

Find something beautiful in a day that wasn’t particularly beautiful.

And please hear me:

You do not have to defeat hard before you start living again.

🔒🔑

Hard may change the lock.

Hard doesn’t get to hide every key.

Maybe your hard is illness.

Maybe it’s grief.

Maybe somebody broke your heart.

Maybe you’re lonely.

Maybe money is funny and the bills aren’t laughing.

Maybe you’re caring for somebody and you’re exhausted.

Maybe you’re beginning again at 27.

Or 57.

Or 87.

Maybe you’ve been praying about something so long that you don’t even know what else to say.

Maybe today you don’t feel strong.

Then don’t perform strength for me.

Cry.

Rest.

Call somebody.

Get some help.

Do what you need to do to take care of yourself.

And when you’re able—

LIVE.

Because whatever came for you does not automatically get the rest of you.

AND NOW, MY 🥜 EATERS…

😂🥰

Come on in.

Yes, YOU.

Pull up your chair.

You already know I’m not about to sneak an altar call into paragraph six. 😂

You don’t have to believe what I believe for this next part to belong to you.

I believe in God.

I believe Jesus is Lord and Savior.

I believe God can heal me.

That’s Cassandra.

I’m not hiding my faith to make anybody comfortable.

But I’m also not requiring you to borrow my faith before I’ll pull out a chair for you.

So keep your peanuts. 🥜😂

Sit down.

I gotchu and gotcha.

Because whether you believe in God, don’t believe in God, aren’t sure about God, are angry with God, walked away from church a long time ago, or have never walked through the doors—

hard has probably introduced itself to you too.

And here’s what I want you to hear:

Whatever happened to you is something that happened to you.

It does not have to become everything you are.

You don’t have to call that God.

I do.

You don’t have to explain your survival the way I explain mine.

You don’t even have to understand it yet.

But please—

LIVE.

That’s it.

That’s my grand agenda today.

No sorting table.

No religious prerequisite.

No test at the door.

There are chairs.

🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑

Come sit down.

Believers, bring your faith.

🥜 eaters, bring your peanuts.

Those of you somewhere in between, bring your questions.

Everybody bring your keys. 🔑

We’ve got some living to do.

Because sometimes the miracle isn’t that everything changed today.

Sometimes today is simply the day you realized:

I AM STILL HERE.

And being here means there is still something available to me.

Love.

Laughter.

Friendship.

Music.

A conversation.

A sunset.

A ridiculous movie.

A good cry.

Another beginning.

Another chance to say I love you.

Another opportunity to tell somebody else:

I gotchu.

And another day to LIVE.

So Hard…

I see you.

I felt you.

I have the scars to prove you were here.

I’m not pretending you weren’t hard.

But you apparently misunderstood something.

You thought because you changed some things, you got everything.

You thought because life didn’t turn out exactly as I planned, I would stop living it.

You thought because my body changed, Cassandra disappeared.

You thought because I cried, joy packed its bags.

You thought because I hurt, love left.

You thought because I don’t know exactly what tomorrow holds, I couldn’t enjoy TODAY.

Baby…

HA! 😂💃🏿

I’m still here.

Still loving.

Still laughing.

Still believing.

Still writing.

Still dreaming.

Still taking care of myself.

Still finding 🔑s.

Still pulling out chairs.

Still loving me some Beloveds.

And still living.

Life came for me.

Hard came for me.

I TOLD HARD, “HA!”

And whatever came for you, Beloved—

please don’t hand it the rest of your life.

I gotchu and gotcha.

And God has us all. ❤️

Unapologetically His.

Unapologetically yours.

loving me some you,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Note: Writing ✍️🏿 this actually brought tears to my eyes, beloveds.  I dream of raising both arms in praise. I want to run again. I want to drive 🚗 again.

I want to live on my own. This stroke makes that impossible, for now.

Now, I have to literally plan EVERY step. That gets exhausting. It’s why folks who have had a stroke take many naps. Even my try gets exhausted fast.

Still,  I am grateful for my life. Even on my harshest health days.

This morning, I told lazy to get up. Lazy, laughter, Jesus and I folded my laundry and put it away.

Whew!

I made a promise to myself that I would take no breaks until the last piece was folded and put away.

In total, it has taken almost four hours to complete my routine.

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

Enjoy yourself. Embrace your life. It’s the only one we get.

In case no one has told you today: I love you and so does He. Be patient. Be resourceful. Be resolute.

Be challenged. Be adventurous. Be…

Heckamiah! Be as many things as you want!😎🥰😂👀💃🏿💯

Take care of your heart as it is precious and priceless to ABBA, to me.

Finally, hit me up in the comments. Tryna sound cool 😎. How’d  I do. Asking for A Friend…😂🥰❤️

I’M STARTING A LOVE TRAIN OF MY OWN.

I’M STARTING A LOVE TRAIN OF MY OWN 🚂❤️

Beloveds.

Life is short.

I don’t mean that as one of those sayings we toss around when somebody dies and then forget as soon as life gets busy again.

I mean life is short.

My big brother is gone.

Gone.

There are things about that sentence my heart is still trying to understand.

And since April, I have been hospitalized three times.

Three.

So when I tell you that I have been thinking about NOW, I need you to understand where that word is coming from.

Not from a motivational poster.

Not from a cute quote.

Not from somebody standing safely on the other side of life telling everybody else how to live theirs.

I’m talking about looking at your own life and realizing:

We keep acting like we have time guaranteed to us that nobody ever promised.

Time to make the call.

Time to forgive.

Time to apologize.

Time to say I love you.

Time to tell somebody they mattered.

Time to laugh until your stomach hurts.

Time to dance badly.

Time to sit quietly with somebody.

Time to stop pretending you don’t care.

Time to put down some foolishness that wasn’t worth carrying in the first place.

Time to LIVE.

We say:

Later.

Tomorrow.

When things settle down.

When I’m less busy.

When they reach out first.

When I feel better.

When I have more money.

When life gets easier.

Beloveds…

What if it doesn’t?

What if this is the life?

Messy.

Beautiful.

Painful.

Funny.

Unfinished.

Ordinary.

Extraordinary.

Now.

❤️

I listened to The O’Jays singing “Love Train,” and something in me heard more than a song.

I heard a question.

Are you coming?

Not when everybody agrees.

Not when humanity finally learns how to act right.

Not when every wound has healed.

Not when everybody believes what you believe.

Not when every relationship has been repaired.

Not when you’re certain you won’t get hurt again.

NOW.

Come now.

Love now.

Live now.

Laugh now.

Say it now.

Receive it now.

Rejoice now.

Because somebody you love can be here—

and then not be here.

😭❤️

I know that now in a way I desperately wish I didn’t.

My big brother is gone.

And I cannot change that.

But I can decide what his absence teaches me about the people who are still here.

I can look around.

I can see you.

I can love you.

I can stop saving flowers for funerals.

I can stop waiting until somebody cannot hear me to tell the world what they meant to me.

I can love people while they are alive.

And so can you.

👀

So I’m challenging you, Beloveds.

Who needs to hear from you?

Who needs to know you love them?

Who have you been meaning to call?

Who deserves their flowers while they can still smell them?

Who have you been withholding kindness from because you’re waiting for them to go first?

What joy have you postponed?

What dream have you convinced yourself you’ll get around to eventually?

What part of your own life have you been standing outside of, waiting for somebody to invite you in?

And here’s the uncomfortable one:

Who have you decided doesn’t belong on your Love Train?

👀

Because it’s easy to talk about loving humanity.

Humanity is abstract.

People are complicated.

People disagree with us.

People misunderstand us.

People disappoint us.

People look different.

Believe differently.

Vote differently.

Worship differently—or don’t worship at all.

People carry histories we don’t know.

Some people have wounds that make them difficult to reach.

Some people will never become who we wish they would become.

And still the question comes:

What are we going to do with the time we have?

I’m not asking you to abandon boundaries.

I’m not asking anybody to return to abuse.

I’m not asking you to pretend harm didn’t happen.

I’m asking something much simpler and much harder:

While you are here, what kind of human being do you want to be?

Because I have decided something.

🚂❤️

I’M STARTING A LOVE TRAIN OF MY OWN.

I don’t own the train.

I don’t get to inspect everybody’s ticket.

Actually…

There are no tickets.

😂❤️

You don’t have to believe what I believe.

You don’t have to look like me.

You don’t have to understand every part of me.

You don’t have to have your life together.

You can arrive grieving.

You can arrive laughing.

You can arrive questioning.

You can arrive believing.

You can arrive unsure.

You can sit quietly by the window if that’s all you have today.

Come.

There is room.

And once you get settled?

Scoot over.

Somebody else is coming.

❤️🚂❤️🚂❤️🚂❤️

That’s how I want to live whatever life I have.

Not counting how many days I might have left.

Making the days I have count.

Not waiting for the world to become loving.

Loving.

Not waiting for somebody else to build community.

Reaching.

Not demanding that everybody become the same.

Seeing people.

Not someday.

NOW.

Because my big brother was here.

And now he isn’t.

Because I’ve seen the inside of a hospital three times since April.

Because tomorrow is precious precisely because it isn’t promised.

Because there are people walking around today who desperately need somebody to remind them:

You matter.

You belong.

I see you.

I gotchu and gotcha.

And because despite everything I’ve seen, everything I’ve survived, everything I’ve gotten wrong, everything I’m still learning, and everything that hurts—

I still believe in love.

Maybe that’s foolish.

Then hand me my conductor hat.

😂🚂❤️

I’m doing it anyway.

So here is my challenge:

Don’t just listen to the Love Train.

Become part of it.

Call somebody.

Love somebody.

Encourage somebody.

Forgive where forgiveness is yours to give.

Ask forgiveness where you’ve caused harm.

Laugh.

Dance.

Dream.

Rest.

Begin again.

Tell somebody the truth while they can still hear it:

I love you.

And then make room for somebody you didn’t expect.

The world has enough trains carrying anger, suspicion, division, loneliness, fear, contempt and hatred.

I’m starting another one.

🔒🔑❤️🚂

Destination?

I don’t know.

Maybe we figure that out together.

But I know how we’re leaving the station:

LIVE NOW.
LOVE NOW.
LAUGH NOW.
RECEIVE NOW.
REJOICE NOW.

Life is short, Beloveds.

Everybody aboard.

The Love Train is leaving NOW.

Unapologetically His.
Unapologetically yours.

loving me some you,
Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Love Train

Beloveds

Help me start a LOVE TRAIN!

I truly believe we can each make a difference. Perhaps, The Universe is waiting for us to BE the difference!

waiting for fellow sojourners,

Cassandra

Deniece Williams – Healing (Lyrics)

Beloveds,

I love serenading My Bestie…🥰

💃🏿🎶🎶…

loving me some you, beloveds.  Remind me to tell you why I refer to you as beloveds. 

Asking for A Friend.

Cassandra

JOY DOES NOT HAVE TO EXPLAIN ITSELF.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 2026

JOY DOES NOT HAVE TO EXPLAIN ITSELF

Beloveds.

I would like to file a complaint against the idea that everything enjoyable must also be productive.

🤣

Sometimes I want the movie.

Sometimes I want the music.

Sometimes I want the joke that makes absolutely no contribution to civilization.

Sometimes I want to laugh until whatever was heavy five minutes ago has to wait its turn.

Joy is not evidence that pain was exaggerated.

Laughter is not betrayal of grief.

Pleasure is not proof that recovery is finished.

A hard life can contain a ridiculous Tuesday.

A grieving person can laugh.

A disabled person can have fun.

A believer can enjoy something without turning it into a sermon.

Ecclesiastes 3:4 says there is “A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.” KJV

I am taking the whole verse.

💃🏿

If you do not share my faith, I still hope you give yourself permission to experience joy without cross-examining it.

🔑 Joy does not always need a reason.

Sometimes the key is simply opening the door when it knocks.

You matter to me.

What made you laugh lately that had absolutely no deeper meaning?

Asking for A Friend,
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe

Note: Today, I gave me permission to rest and do absolutely nothing. I napped. I napped some more. My naps took a nap!🥰💃🏿😆❤️👍🏾💯😘J