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

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. 💋💯🥰💯☕️👖🤗

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 2, 2026



HEART CHECK FRIDAY: YOU MADE IT. NOW TAKE YOUR SHOES OFF. ❤️

Beloveds.

Friday.

Come in.

Shoes off.

Bag down.

Phone somewhere you can’t hear every ding.

And before anybody starts telling me what they didn’t accomplish this week…

Nope.

Not tonight.

You lived seven days of your life.

That’s worth noticing.

Maybe this week was magnificent.

Maybe it was meh.

Maybe you spent half of it wondering what the fresh hell everybody was doing.

👀

Maybe YOU were the fresh hell.

We’ll discuss your Act Right later.

Tonight, sit down. 😂

There is something I’ve noticed about us.

We are quick to move the finish line.

We finish something and immediately ask:

What’s next?

We survive something and ask:

How quickly can I get back to normal?

We accomplish something and ask:

Why didn’t I do more?

Beloved.

Could you just be here for a minute?

Could you let Friday be Friday?

Could you acknowledge the phone call you finally made?

The boundary you kept?

The thing you tried?

The apology you offered?

The appointment you made?

The moment you chose rest instead of running yourself into the ground?

The laugh you didn’t expect?

The cry you finally let yourself have?

Those things count.

Your life is not made only of giant victories.

Sometimes life is coffee and a comfortable chair and realizing you don’t have anywhere you need to be for the next twenty minutes.

☕🪑

Sometimes that is enough.

Jesus knew how to sit at tables.

ABBA knows how to welcome children home.

The Father knows the whole week you just walked through.

The Holy Spirit knows when your soul needs quiet more than another word.

So we’re not going to fill tonight with words.

You made it here.

Take your shoes off.

Stay awhile.

The 🥜 eaters are somewhere in the back.

For once, they’re behaving.

I don’t trust it.

👀

But we’ll take it.

How’s your heart, beloved?

I’m glad you came home.

❤️

Unapologetically His.
Unapologetically yours.

loving me some you,
Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Real talk: Tell “Everything will be alright” to shut up.

Beloveds,

Whew.

Whew!

WHEW!!

Even today had the grace to say “My bad, Cassandra”!

I made a promise to myself, long ago, to encourage someone when I was at my lowest. I figured that somebody HAD to be really  hurting if even MY faith wanted to go on hiatus!

So, here I am,  ready to tell someone to kick rocks…*sigh *

Last night, I dreamed of taking a ride in Cherry 🍒 🚗. I miss her. I miss riding around singing badly.

I’m not sad so much as wanting to say “WTH!”.

I’m NOT okay. How can I be expected to be.

I don’t know HOW to say goodbye to my big brother…shit…😢🥹💔

I just stopped by to encourage someone to remember that it’s okayto NOT be okay, okay.

At least, not today. Check with some of us tomorrow! Think I’ll go watch a movie. Who’s up for one…

asking for many friends,

Cassandra

STILL.

Beloveds,

I’m STILL me.

This stroke has not taken my joy. Yes, my voice is unrecognizable. That’s okay. I’m doing my best to love somebody with all that is within me.

I made this before my stroke. Hearing the old me is bittersweet. There are days when I miss who l used to be. She is still me.

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

Don’t get on yourself for who you used to be  Embrace ALL of you 

Use the voice you have  Enjoy the life you have. Love the person you are now. Right now

loving me some you,

Cassandra

I DREAM…STILL.

Beloveds,

I DREAM…

STILL.

wondering why I am still here,

Cassandra.

Ah, God. What do I do with me now…*sigh*…

Never stop dreaming.

ITS NEVER TIME TO QUIT

🔑 IT’S NEVER TIME TO QUIT — PIECE TWO

WHAT IF I DON’T HAVE ANOTHER TRY IN ME TODAY?

Beloveds,

Yesterday I told you that sometimes the way you refuse to quit is by refusing to keep going the same way.

Today I want to talk to the person who read that and thought:

Cassandra, I don’t have another way right now.

I don’t have another plan.

I don’t have another idea.

I don’t have another ounce of patience.

And if somebody tells me to “keep going” one more time, I might invite THEM to keep going.

Right on out the door.

🤣

Pull up your chair.

🪑

Because this one is for you.

And, frankly, sometimes it is for me too.

🔑

There are days when you are not deciding whether to quit.

You are deciding whether you have anything left for today.

Those are different questions.

I need us to stop treating them like they are the same.

Sometimes you have tried.

And tried.

And tried again.

You made the phone call.

You filled out the form.

You went to the appointment.

You had the conversation.

You tried the workaround.

You asked for help.

You prayed.

You waited.

You started over.

You adjusted.

You did everything you knew how to do.

And now?

You are tired.

Not inspirational-poster tired.

Not “drink some coffee and get back in there” tired.

Tired tired.

❤️‍🩹

Your body is tired.

Your mind is tired.

Your feelings are tired.

Your hope might even feel tired.

And sometimes the most truthful thing you can say is:

“I do not have another try in me today.”

Notice the last word.

Today.

🔑

Today is not forever.

This hour is not forever.

This feeling is not forever.

This particular amount of strength is not necessarily all the strength you will ever have.

You do not have to make a lifetime decision from one exhausted moment.

And you do not have to borrow strength from tomorrow to prove you did not quit today.

Read that again.

You do not have to borrow strength from tomorrow to prove you did not quit today.

🔑

Sometimes stopping protects the part of you that will try again.

Sometimes sleep is part of perseverance.

Sometimes eating something is part of perseverance.

Sometimes turning the phone off is part of perseverance.

Sometimes cancelling something is part of perseverance.

Sometimes asking someone else to carry something is part of perseverance.

Sometimes saying “not tonight” is part of perseverance.

Sometimes watching a movie and refusing to solve another problem until tomorrow is part of perseverance.

🍿🤣

Yes.

I said it.

Because perseverance is not punishment.

And rest is not a character flaw.

🔑

We have created some strange ideas about strength.

We praise the person who keeps going when they are exhausted.

We praise the person who never asks for help.

We praise the person who carries everybody.

We praise the person who works through pain.

We praise the person who never misses a day.

We praise the person who says, “I’m fine,” while clearly being anything but fine.

And then we wonder why people collapse.

👀

Beloveds, sometimes strength looks like continuing.

And sometimes strength looks like knowing when continuing right now is costing too much.

That is not weakness.

That is information.

Your body gives you information.

Your mind gives you information.

Your emotions give you information.

Your circumstances give you information.

Wisdom pays attention.

🔑

I am learning that there is a difference between surrendering my life and surrendering my schedule.

There is a difference between abandoning my purpose and changing today’s expectations.

There is a difference between quitting and resting.

There is a difference between “I cannot” and “I cannot right now.”

There is a difference between “never” and “not today.”

Those little words matter.

They leave a door open.

🚪🔑

Maybe tomorrow you try again.

Maybe tomorrow you still cannot.

Then perhaps you need another day.

Maybe the answer comes next week.

Maybe somebody else knows a route you have not considered.

Maybe circumstances change.

Maybe you change.

Maybe the thing you were fighting so hard to preserve turns out not to be the thing you needed to preserve at all.

We do not know yet.

That is the point.

You do not have to decide the entire future tonight.

🔑

Some of you have been carrying things for years.

Family responsibilities.

Caregiving.

Grief.

Financial pressure.

Loneliness.

Work.

Recovery.

Disappointment.

A dream that keeps taking longer than you expected.

A relationship you do not know how to repair.

A body that requires more attention than you wish it did.

A life that looks nothing like the one you planned.

And people keep telling you:

“Stay strong.”

Sometimes I want to ask:

Strong HOW?

👀

Strong enough to pretend?

Strong enough to hide?

Strong enough to never need anybody?

Strong enough to keep doing something that is breaking me?

Nah, fam.

That cannot be the only definition of strength.

🔑

Sometimes strength says:

I need help.

Sometimes strength says:

I need to stop.

Sometimes strength says:

I need to think.

Sometimes strength says:

I need to sleep.

Sometimes strength says:

I need to cry before I can figure out what comes next.

Sometimes strength says:

I don’t know.

And sometimes strength says:

Ask me tomorrow.

🤣

That counts too.

🔑

There is something else I want to say carefully.

Not everything is supposed to be endured forever.

“It’s never time to quit” does not mean remaining indefinitely in something harmful just so you can say you stayed.

Sometimes what needs to end is the thing hurting you.

Sometimes perseverance means persevering toward freedom.

Sometimes the 🔑 opens a door out.

Leaving one thing does not necessarily mean you quit on yourself.

Sometimes leaving is exactly how you refuse to quit on yourself.

That distinction matters.

❤️‍🩹

So when I say WE FIGHT ON, I do not mean we fight everything forever.

I mean we keep choosing life.

We keep looking for the next honest possibility.

We keep protecting what matters.

We keep learning.

We keep adapting.

We keep loving.

We keep asking questions.

We keep making room for help.

We keep making room for joy.

We keep making room for God.

And sometimes we keep going by going to bed.

🤣🛌

Won’t He do it.

🔑

If today has taken everything you had, hear me.

You do not owe today anything else.

You do not have to squeeze one final achievement out of yourself so you can call the day successful.

You survived the day.

Maybe you loved somebody.

Maybe you let somebody love you.

Maybe you handled one difficult thing.

Maybe you handled ten.

Maybe you got out of bed.

Maybe you stayed in bed because that was what you needed.

Maybe you laughed once.

Maybe you cried seventeen times.

Maybe all you managed was here.

Then here counts.

👩🏿‍🦼

I have learned to respect here.

Here is not always where I wanted to be.

Here is not always comfortable.

Here does not always look impressive.

But here is where the next choice becomes possible.

You cannot take tomorrow’s step tonight.

You can only decide what faithfulness looks like here.

And sometimes faithfulness looks like rest.

🔑

So tonight, if you are tired, I am not going to holler at you to PUSH.

I am not going to tell you that winners never stop.

I am not going to hand you another assignment.

I am going to pull out a chair.

🪑

Sit.

You can be tired here.

You can be uncertain here.

You can believe here.

You can doubt here.

You can disagree with me here.

You can have no idea what comes next and still have a place here.

There is room for you.

You do not have to resolve before you belong.

And you certainly do not have to perform strength before you are loved.

You matter to me.

🔑

Tomorrow will arrive soon enough.

We will see what strength it brings with it.

Maybe tomorrow is the day you try again.

Maybe tomorrow is the day you ask somebody to help.

Maybe tomorrow is the day you discover another route.

Maybe tomorrow is simply another day to rest.

We will deal with tomorrow when it becomes today.

For now:

Put down what can be put down.

Breathe.

Rest.

Laugh if something is funny.

Listen to some music.

Watch the movie.

🍿🎬

Let yourself be a human being instead of a project that is perpetually under construction.

And if all you can say tonight is:

“I am done for today.”

Then say it.

Without shame.

Without turning it into forever.

Without writing an ending that has not happened.

Because:

“I’m done for today” is NOT the same as “I give up.”

🔑

Sometimes tomorrow’s courage begins with tonight’s rest.

We fight on.

And sometimes fighting on means:

Good night.

One step.

One step.

One step.

You are loved.

You are NOT alone.

Keep on being…YOU!

Asking for A Friend,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Unapologetically His.

🔑

TUESDAY — THE KEY DOESN’T MAKE THE ROAD EASY 🔑🥾

Beloveds,

I have been thinking about keys.

Not cute little decorative keys. Not the kind we hang on a wall beside a word like faith and call the lesson finished.

I mean the keys that cost something.

Because sometimes you spend years staring at a chain ⛓️ without realizing there is a lock. Sometimes you know there is a lock but cannot find the key. Sometimes somebody else has been holding the key. Sometimes the door has been unlocked all along, but fear, pain, history, prejudice, grief, exhaustion, disability, rejection, or somebody else’s definition of you convinced you that you were not allowed to walk through it.

And sometimes, Beloveds, you find the key—

and discover that freedom still requires work.

🔑

That one has been sitting with me.

I am learning this in my own body.

Some things that once required almost no thought from me now require planning, patience, equipment, adaptation, humor, rest—and occasionally enough cleaning supplies to make it look like I am opening a small janitorial company. 🤣🧻🪣🧽🧴

Yes. I am talking about Potty Wars.

And YES.

I WON. 🏆🏆🤣

Laugh with me, because I certainly am.

But don’t miss the victory because the battlefield happened to be a bathroom.

We celebrate people for running marathons, climbing mountains, earning degrees and crossing finish lines. We should.

But there are victories nobody sees.

Getting dressed.

Taking a shower.

Making it safely across a room.

Getting yourself cleaned up.

Using the bathroom.

Holding a phone.

Trying to make your fingers press the tiny thing on the screen that everybody keeps telling you to “just tap.”

There is no just when your body has changed.

There is effort.

There is adaptation.

There is frustration.

There is learning.

There is grief sometimes.

There is laughter sometimes.

And there can still be victory.

🏆

My quad cane does not cancel the victory.

My wheelchair does not cancel the victory.

Needing rest does not cancel the victory.

Needing help does not cancel the victory.

Doing something differently does not cancel the victory.

And stopping when my body says ✋🏿 does not cancel the victory either.

That may be one of the keys I needed most.

🔑 Rest is not disqualification.

🔑 Assistance is not disqualification.

🔑 Adaptation is not disqualification.

🔑 Difference is not disqualification.

🔑 A messy victory is still a victory.

And here’s another one:

🔑 My body is not my enemy.

I refuse to turn recovery into a war against myself.

There are chains I want broken. ⛓️

There are doors I want opened. 🚪

There are miles I still want to travel. 🥾🥾

There is work I still want to do. ⚒️

There is an entire world I still intend to love. 🌎

But if I have to destroy myself to prove that I am healing, I have misunderstood healing.

So I am learning another rhythm:

⚒️ Work.

🥾 Move.

😭 Grieve.

🤣 Laugh.

🧻 Clean it up.

🏆 Celebrate it.

🛌 Rest.

✋🏿 Stop.

🔑 Begin again when I can.

And perhaps somebody reading this needs permission to redefine victory too.

Your victory does not have to photograph well.

Nobody has to clap.

Nobody has to understand how difficult it was.

And you do not owe anybody a performance of strength.

Maybe you got out of bed.

Maybe you stayed in bed because your body needed it.

Maybe you asked for help.

Maybe you tried again.

Maybe today you finally stopped trying.

Maybe you cried.

Maybe you laughed in the middle of something that once embarrassed you.

Maybe you found one tiny key.

Hold it.

Not because I know which door it opens.

I don’t.

Only you get to discover that.

And if you believe in God as I do, you may believe He knows the door before you ever recognize the key.

If you don’t believe in God, don’t believe yet, or never will, there is still room beside me.

Pull up a chair. 🪑

Nobody has to believe exactly as I believe to be loved here.

Bring your questions.

Bring your laughter.

Bring your mess.

Bring your keys.

Bring nothing at all if that’s what you have today.

The chair stays.

Because maybe freedom isn’t reaching some imaginary place where we never need anybody again.

Maybe freedom is being able to say:

This is the body I have today.

This is the life I have today.

This is what I can do today.

And—

I am still here.

🔑⚫️🏆🥂🥾🌎

Beloveds, what counted as a victory for you today—even if nobody else would understand why it mattered?

Tell me in the comments if you want to. Share this with somebody whose quiet victories deserve celebrating. Like it, follow/subscribe, and come back tomorrow. There will be another chair waiting.

Asking for A Friend,
Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Note: One step. One step. One step. You are loved. You are NOT alone. Keep on being…YOU!

Unapologetically His.
Unapologetically yours.

IT ME!

Beloveds,

Before there was a blog, there was me.

I need to start there. Because if I’m going to introduce myself—really introduce myself—I don’t want to begin with a website.

I don’t want to begin with something that happened to me. I don’t want to begin with a list of things I have survived, things I have accomplished, or things somebody else might use to explain who I am.

I was me looooooong before I was a blog.

I was a little girl who loved words. I remember sitting in doctors’ offices reading Reader’s Digest. And no, I wasn’t just some bored little kid grabbing whatever happened to be sitting on the table. I was drawn to it.

I loved the motivational things. The encouraging things. The words that could make somebody think differently, laugh unexpectedly, or feel a little better than they did before they read them.

I loved Quotable Quotes. I loved Life in These United States. I loved Laughter, the Best Medicine.

Long before I had a blog, I was collecting words. Long before I had readers, I was reading.

Long before I knew exactly what I would do with my voice, I was listening for voices that made life a little lighter, a little wiser, a little more hopeful.

And somewhere along the way, I started writing too. I’ve written all my life.

Writing wasn’t invented for me by a website. It wasn’t something I suddenly discovered because life became difficult and I needed somewhere to put my thoughts.

Words were already mine. Encouragement was already mine.

For a long time, I have tried to READ something, WRITE something, and LISTEN to something positive every day.

Feed your mind something worth carrying. Put something worthwhile back into the world. Listen for something that reminds you there is still goodness here.

That rhythm did not suddenly become meaningful because my circumstances changed.

It was already mine.

And then there was another dream.

I wanted to be a motivational speaker.

There was just one teeny-tiny problem: I was terrified of public speaking. 🤣 Apparently my heart had ambitions my nerves had not approved.

But I wanted the microphone anyway. 🎤

I wanted words to do out loud what I already knew they could do on a page. I wanted to encourage people. I wanted to speak into somebody’s life and leave something there that might help them keep going.

Eventually, I did speak. I had to give a speech to graduate. A teacher helped teach me about the written word and the spoken word. Later, I joined a speaking group. I volunteered helping abused children. I gave presentations.

I was scared.

And I enjoyed it anyway.

Somewhere in all those years—the reading, the writing, the listening, the speaking, the serving—there was one ridiculously simple thing underneath everything.

I wanted to love the world. 🌎

That’s it.

I wanted somebody who felt alone to feel less alone. I wanted somebody who was ready to stop to take one more step. I wanted somebody who had forgotten their worth to encounter a few words that might remind them:

Your life matters.

Eventually, there was a blog.

Why Can’t I Be Loud?!

But please understand the order.

The blog didn’t make the woman.

The woman made the blog.

The blog simply gave something that was already living inside me another place to go. Another microphone. Another page. Another doorway. Another way to reach toward somebody I may never meet and say:

Come here. Sit with me awhile.

And if I’m really introducing myself, I can’t skip one particular word.

Ugly.

There. I said it.

I was called ugly.

I’m not going to pretty that part up now. Words matter, especially when they find you young. Ugly informed my world. It affected beauty. Belonging. Being seen. Being wanted. Being included. Being looked at—and being looked past.

But there is something I refuse to give that word:

My love.

Ugly informed my world.

Ugly did NOT inform my love.

Cruelty does not get to come back years later and collect credit for the woman I became. I will not hand it that trophy.

I did not learn to love the world because somebody taught me what cruelty felt like. The people who hurt me do not get authorship credit for my heart.

That heart was mine.

And God loved me as I was. Not some someday version of me. Not the version somebody else might find prettier, quieter, easier, more acceptable, or more convenient.

Me.

And somewhere along this life, I learned something else too:

I love me.

This face is mine. This laughter is mine. This faith is mine. These questions are mine. These words are mine. This heart is mine.

This voice is mine.

And then—the stroke came.

I will not introduce the woman I am today and pretend it didn’t happen.

But listen carefully:

My story does not begin with my stroke.

The stroke did not give me my purpose. It did not make me a writer. It did not teach me to love words. It did not put encouragement in my heart. It did not give me my desire to speak. It did not create my love for the world.

I brought all of that INTO the stroke.

And that distinction matters.

Because the stroke came for some of the very things I had spent my life using:

My voice.

My words.

My hands.

The little girl who loved words grew into a woman who wrote them—and now sometimes I have to fight just to get those words where I want them to go. The woman who dreamed about microphones grew into a woman who found her voice—and now sometimes I have to fight for that voice.

The writer has words inside her—and sometimes her own hands fight her over putting them onto the page.

There is something almost unspeakably cruel about that.

But I am speaking it anyway. 🎤

Because I’m still here.

And maybe Why Can’t I Be Loud?! means something even deeper to me now. I asked a question about voice.

Then life came for my literal voice.

And I am still answering.

I. AM. HERE.

My voice may be different. It is still mine. My words may take longer to reach you. They are still mine. My hands may fight me while I try to put those words into the world.

They are still mine.

And I am still writing. Still speaking. Still laughing. Still questioning. Still believing. Still learning. Still loving.

Still I rise.

Not because suffering made me extraordinary. Not because every painful thing needs a pretty lesson attached to it. Not because I am interested in performing strength for anybody.

I rise because I am still here.

And Beloveds, here is the part I desperately want you to understand:

I am fighting for these words because I still want to give them to you.

For you, Beloveds.

That little girl picked up words because something in them called to her. This grown woman keeps fighting to put words into the world because somewhere out there is another human being who may need one.

Maybe you need to hear that your life is not finished. Maybe you need somebody to sit beside you without demanding that you clean yourself up first. Maybe you need permission to laugh while you’re hurting. Maybe you need to be angry. Maybe you need to grieve. Maybe you need to begin again.

Maybe you just need somebody somewhere on this great big planet to say:

I see you.

You matter to me.

You are not alone.

Then come sit with me.

Bring yourself. Bring the beautiful and the ugly. Bring the questions and the mess. Bring the faith and the doubt. Bring the laughter that shows up at absolutely inappropriate times. 🤣 Bring whatever voice you have today.

You don’t have to sound like me. You don’t have to believe everything I believe. You don’t have to live where I live, look like I look, love like I love, speak like I speak, move like I move, or understand the world exactly the way I do.

There is still a chair here for you.

Because this was never about making the whole world Cassandra. Good grief. One is plenty. 🤣

This is about loving the whole world while letting people remain themselves.

So let me introduce myself.

I am Cassandra.

I am the little girl who loved words. I am the woman who kept writing them. I am the scared woman who wanted the microphone anyway. I am the woman who was called ugly and refused to surrender her love.

I am the woman God loved then and loves now. I am the woman who learned to love herself. I am the woman whose body now sometimes fights her for her voice, her words, and her hands.

And I am the woman who keeps reaching for the microphone anyway. 🎤

Same heart. Same mission. Different settings.

ALL OF ME.

I am still writing.

I am not done.

And neither are you.

So take the step. Then take another one. And another. 🥾

One step. One step. One step.

However long I have a voice, I intend to use it. However long I have words, I intend to give them. However I have to get those words from my heart into this world, I intend to try.

Still I rise.

For you, Beloveds.

For love.

For this great big messy, hurting, beautiful world. 🌎

And because after all this, somebody is inevitably still going to ask:

Why can’t I be loud?!

Well…

Who said I can’t? 🎤

Asking for A Friend,
Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Note: One step. One step. One step. You are loved. You are NOT alone. Keep on being…YOU!

FROM THEIR HEART TO OURS ❤️‍🔥

Beloved, You Can Stop Trying to Earn What We Already Desire to Give You

Beloveds,

Today, we’re going to be quiet.

No teaching first.

No fixing.

No proving.

No trying to impress God with how well we’re handling everything.

Just…

come.

😭❤️‍🔥

Imagine setting everything down for a moment.

The guilt.

The shame.

The fear that you’re asking too much.

The embarrassment about what you cannot do.

The worry about everybody who’s helping you.

The questions about whether you’re becoming a burden.

The frantic need to prove that you’re still useful.

The old fear that love always comes with strings.

Set it down.

And hear the heart Scripture reveals to us from the Father and Jesus.

❤️‍🔥

❤️‍🔥 BELOVED, COME.

You keep thinking you have to get yourself together before you come close.

But Jesus already told us:

“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
— Matthew 11:28, KJV

Not:

Come when you’re stronger.

Come.

Not:

Come when you’ve stopped crying.

Come.

Not:

Come when you’re useful again.

Come.

Not:

Come after you’ve cleaned up the mess.

Come.

Not:

Come when you finally have something impressive to offer.

Just…

come.

😭❤️‍🔥

You’ve spent so much time wondering what you can bring to God.

Maybe today the answer is:

yourself.

Tired.

Confused.

Grateful.

Angry.

Hopeful.

Scared.

Healing.

Hurting.

Laughing one minute and crying the next.

Still figuring things out.

Still learning how to receive.

Come anyway.

❤️‍🔥 YOU DO NOT HAVE TO APOLOGIZE FOR NEEDING US

Some of us have been apologizing our way through life.

I’m sorry I need help.

I’m sorry I’m tired.

I’m sorry I can’t do what I used to.

I’m sorry I’m crying again.

I’m sorry I’m not stronger yet.

I’m sorry everybody has to help me.

And Scripture keeps showing us a God who invites needy people closer.

“Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.”
— 1 Peter 5:7, KJV

All your care.

Not only the respectable worries.

Not only the spiritual ones.

Not only the problems you think are big enough to bother God with.

All.

😭❤️‍🔥

What if the Father isn’t standing over you irritated because you need Him again?

What if He is exactly who Scripture says He is?

A Father.

And what if Jesus isn’t exhausted by the fact that you’re still learning?

What if grace anticipated that?

❤️‍🔥 WE KNEW YOU WOULD NEED GRACE BEFORE YOU EVER NEEDED IT

Grace wasn’t God’s emergency backup plan after humanity became messy.

👀❤️‍🔥

He knew.

He knew we would stumble.

He knew we would hurt.

He knew we would need forgiveness.

He knew we would become frightened.

He knew we would become exhausted.

He knew some days our prayers would sound magnificent…

and other days they’d sound like:

“Jesus. Help.”

😭🙏🏾

And somehow two words can still be prayer.

Sometimes one word can.

Jesus.

Sometimes tears themselves seem to carry what language cannot.

You don’t have to perform spirituality either.

❤️‍🔥 STOP BRINGING US YOUR RÉSUMÉ

Some of us keep approaching God with our list.

Look how faithful I’ve been.

Look how much I’ve served.

Look how much I’ve given.

Look how many people I’ve helped.

Look how hard I’ve tried.

And those things can be beautiful.

But beloved…

they aren’t currency for purchasing the Father’s love.

❤️‍🔥

Scripture says:

“For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God:”
“Not of works, lest any man should boast.”
— Ephesians 2:8–9, KJV

Gift.

There is that word again.

Gift.

And some of us don’t know what to do with gifts.

😭❤️‍🔥

We know what to do with wages.

Earn them.

We know what to do with debts.

Repay them.

We know what to do with contracts.

Fulfill them.

But a gift?

A gift leaves us standing there with empty hands.

And perhaps that’s exactly where grace wants us.

Not empty because we are worthless.

Empty because:

there is finally room to receive.

❤️‍🔥 BELOVED, WE ARE NOT ASHAMED OF YOUR NEED

You may be ashamed.

God isn’t surprised.

You may look at your weakness and think:

“Surely this makes me less valuable.”

But Jesus has never needed your strength in order to be strong.

👀😭❤️‍🔥

Read that again.

Jesus does not need you to pretend to be strong so He can remain Savior.

You are allowed to need saving.

You are allowed to need carrying.

You are allowed to need comfort.

You are allowed to need mercy.

You are allowed to need rest.

You are allowed to need Him.

In fact…

that’s the whole point.

❤️‍🔥 YOU KEEP TRYING TO CARRY WHAT WE KEEP ASKING YOU TO RELEASE

Somebody needs this.

You’ve prayed about it…

then picked it back up.

😭😆❤️‍🔥

Lord, I give this to You.

Five minutes later:

WHERE DID I PUT THAT WORRY?

🏃🏾‍♀️😭😆

Right back in the bag.

Back on the shoulder.

Back into the mind.

Back into the 3:17 a.m. emergency meeting nobody invited Jesus to.

Beloved…

put it down again.

And if you pick it up tomorrow?

Put it down tomorrow.

Grace is patient enough for repetition.

❤️‍🔥 WE ARE NOT KEEPING THE SCORE YOU THINK WE ARE

Maybe you’ve imagined the Father with a ledger.

Good day.

Bad day.

Strong day.

Weak day.

Faithful day.

Messy day.

Prayer completed.

Prayer forgotten.

Bible read.

Bible untouched.

Kind words.

Bad attitude.

Excellent Tuesday.

Absolute foolishness Wednesday.

😭😆❤️‍🔥

And accountability matters.

Repentance matters.

Growth matters.

Obedience matters.

But none of those means the Father’s love fluctuates every morning according to your performance.

Scripture says:

“But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”
— Romans 5:8, KJV

While we were yet sinners.

Before the cleanup.

Before the improvement.

Before the impressive testimony.

Love moved first.

😭❤️‍🔥

❤️‍🔥 JESUS: I ALREADY KNEW THE COST

Maybe this is where the fear of strings attached finally meets the Cross.

We’ve been asking:

“What will this love cost me later?”

And Jesus points us toward Calvary.

The cost wasn’t hidden.

He knew it.

He chose it.

“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”
— John 15:13, KJV

❤️‍🔥

The Cross isn’t Jesus giving us something so He can manipulate us later.

The Cross reveals sacrificial love.

Grace doesn’t say:

“Now spend your life trying to pay Me back.”

Grace says:

“Follow Me.”

There is a difference.

One is debt.

The other is relationship.

One says:

Repay.

The other says:

Come with Me.

😭❤️‍🔥

❤️‍🔥 THE FATHER: YOU ARE MY CHILD, NOT MY EMPLOYEE

Some of us understand employment better than sonship or daughterhood.

Employees earn wages.

Employees prove productivity.

Employees receive performance reviews.

Employees can be replaced when they stop producing.

So sometimes we unconsciously bring that model into our relationship with God.

What did I accomplish for You today?

But family asks another question:

Whose are you?

😭❤️‍🔥

Before you accomplished today’s list…

His.

When you got tired halfway through…

His.

When you cried…

His.

When you needed help…

His.

When somebody had to carry you…

His.

When you finally did something you couldn’t do yesterday…

His.

When tomorrow turns out harder again…

still His.

❤️‍🔥 JESUS: LET ME WASH YOUR FEET

Oh, this one.

👀😭❤️‍🔥

Peter struggled with receiving too.

When Jesus came to wash his feet, Peter resisted:

“Thou shalt never wash my feet.”
— John 13:8, KJV

Does that sound familiar?

No, no. I’ll do it.

You don’t have to do that for me.

I’ll handle it.

Let me serve YOU.

And Jesus challenged Peter to receive.

Sometimes humility isn’t kneeling down to serve.

Sometimes humility is remaining seated while love kneels in front of you.

😭😭❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

WHEW.

Some of us can wash everybody’s feet.

But when somebody reaches for ours?

ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Because serving feels holy.

Receiving feels vulnerable.

But Jesus demonstrated both.

And perhaps He is teaching us:

You cannot follow the way of love while refusing to ever occupy the receiver’s chair.

❤️‍🔥 BELOVED, SIT THERE.

Don’t jump up yet.

Don’t grab the towel.

Don’t say:

“Okay, now it’s my turn.”

Sit.

😭❤️‍🔥

Let yourself be served.

Let yourself be loved.

Let yourself be comforted.

Let somebody pray for YOU.

Let somebody encourage YOU.

Let somebody bring YOU something.

Let somebody make the phone call.

Let somebody drive.

Let somebody sit beside you.

Let somebody say:

“I’ve got this part.”

And don’t immediately answer:

“But—”

No but.

😆❤️‍🔥

Sit.

Receive.

❤️‍🔥 FROM THEIR HEART TO OURS

If we gathered the invitations of Scripture into one place, perhaps this is what our hearts need to hear today:

Come.

Cast your cares.

Receive grace.

Let Me give you rest.

Let Me love you first.

Let Me serve you.

Let Me carry what you cannot.

Then, when you have received love, go love somebody else.

Not to repay Me.

Not to prove yourself.

Not to purchase your place.

But because love received eventually becomes love overflowing.

😭❤️‍🔥🌎

“We love him, because he first loved us.”
— 1 John 4:19, KJV

There it is.

The whole thing.

He first loved us.

We receive.

Then…

we love.

🙏🏾 OUR RESPONSE

Father…

we have spent so much time trying to prove ourselves.

We’re tired.

Jesus…

we have resisted having our feet washed.

We thought strength meant always being the one holding the towel.

Forgive us where pride has kept our hands closed.

Heal us where hurt has kept them closed.

Comfort us where shame has kept them closed.

Give us wisdom where past manipulation taught us to fear every gift.

And then…

slowly…

gently…

teach us to open our hands.

😭🙏🏾❤️‍🔥

We receive Your grace.

We receive Your mercy.

We receive Your correction.

We receive Your comfort.

We receive Your rest.

We receive the trustworthy people You place around us.

We receive help without calling ourselves helpless.

We receive love without calling ourselves burdens.

And when guilt says:

“You need to pay this back,”

remind us that gratitude can simply say:

“Thank You.”

Father…

Thank You.

Jesus…

Thank You.

For coming.

For staying.

For carrying.

For loving first.

For loving still.

And for teaching us how to love because we finally learned how to receive Yours.

Amen.

😭❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Beloveds…

Maybe today there is no Cassandra Challenge.

No homework.

No assignment.

Maybe today receiving IS the assignment.

Sit there.

Let Them love you.

Let grace finish its sentence before guilt interrupts.

And when your heart finally finds words…

just whisper:

“Thank You, Father.”

“Thank You, Jesus.”

“I receive.”

😭🙏🏾❤️‍🔥

From His heart to ours.
From our hearts to yours.

Unapologetically His.
Unapologetically yours.

Asking for A Friend,
Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

One step. One step. One step. You are loved. You are NOT alone. Keep on being…YOU! ❤️‍🔥🌎