Faith and Finding Your Fabulous with the Fab Five…

Me on Sunday Morning: “God LOVES us!!!  He restores us and He renews us!”

Me on Thursday night: “I AM SO INADEQUATE! I feel pushed in so many different directions! I’m EXHAUSTED!!  This SUCKS!!  Why am I such A TOTAL FAILURE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?” Aaaand, cue the sleepless night.

Why do I live in this world of polarities?

So, little-known-fact: I absolutely love the show, “Queer Eye.” Of course, being that I run in mid-American Judeo-Christian circles, I know that this admission may bring some Internet or in-person-based gooey, thick judgeyness, but whatever. I’m not changing my mind.

I’m not going to argue about it. I’m just going to remind you that we’re all made by a God Who loves us & that we are all on our own journey. We don’t have to agree; we DO have to love, and according to 1 Peter 3:15, we have to be respectful. SO, that’s all I have to say, about that (and no, we’re not going to engage about their personal politics. Off the table).

Anyways, I love the show, “Queer Eye.” The biggest takeaway I have from the show is that these 5 men, from 5 totally different walks of life, have each grown into the “simple” act of BECOMING, and they take their subjects along the same route. They’ve each learned to accept themselves, to love themselves (even on days when they’re struggling), and to teach others to do the same. I’m not very good at that, so I love seeing people succeed on that journey.  I started writing this blog yesterday, and then watched another episode on Netflix. Lo and behold, it was the episode featuring those Barbecuing Babes, The Jones Sisters. Every episode makes me tear up, but this one had me Katy-Perry-Ugly-Crying.

I’ve struggled with my weight for the past, oh, I don’t know, TWENTY YEARS? I’ve never accepted my body, whether it was as a 14-year old with gigantic boobs, or as a 41-year old with a gigantic butt (and not in the sexy, Kim-Kardashian way). I’ve struggled with my looks, particularly as multiple surgeries have left some pretty unflattering scars. I oscillate between thinking my face is okay, and “OHMYGODWHYDOISTILLHAVEACNEAND WRINKLES?!?!?”

I can pick apart my personality to an obsessive degree: “You’re stupid. You’re not funny. Your sense of timing is crap. SO many people are smarter than you.  You’re never going to be successful. You’re just support staff. You basically just suck and are wasting your time. Oh, you’re bad at math, you’re a terrible mom, and you’re fat.”

I can DESTROY my faith; I constantly feel like people are judging my output….like, I don’t go to this meeting, or to this church, or I don’t raise my hands enough, or OMG, bad things have happened to me, so God must hate me. Whatever.

I know it’s all lies…but I find myself believing them anyways.

How can I say that we’re all created by a God Who made us in His image, but then have such a deprecating monologue?

How can I say that God restores us and renews us, yet beat myself up continually for my seemingly-perpetual state of exhaustion (it’s not an imagined exhaustion—I literally have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome caused by my thyroidectomy. I don’t think I’ve ever actually written that down before)?

And here comes the guilt from the constant struggle of living in a dichotomy…

I watch the guys on “Queer Eye,” and I follow them on Instagram. They’re a bevy of positivity. I also follow Tess Holliday (founder of the #EffYourBeautyStandards hashtag) and several other body-positive influencers. They’re all younger than me, and way cooler than me, and they’re doing an amazing job of being candid, positive, and strong. They show strength in honesty and in vulnerability, and even though they’re not “religious” influencers, I still find my spirit encouraged by them.

They’re “unconventional.” They’re not from “my” people (you know what I mean—don’t get it twisted. I’m referring to the stereotype of the church-raised, Midwest-born cisgender, straight, suburban/rural mom, and/or one of my previously-blogged-about Great White Women of Hope that I’m supposed to strive to be like…and that I gloriously fail in striving to be like…). They’re POC, or they’re gay, or they’re bi, or they’re EXTREMELY politically liberal, or whatever. They’re all the kind of people that a lot of people I know would love nothing more than to engage in enraged discussions with, and I want nothing to do with that.

I love them.

I love that when they look at someone who looks like me—average height, overweight, struggling—they see something beautiful. They look past what I perceive are flaws, and they find BEAUTY. They bring it out…isn’t that what we’re supposed to do for each other, not only as Christians, but as human Beings?

They’ve taught me to rethink my narrative….to reconsider the self-deprecating “humor.” I only tell fat jokes because in my brain, it’s (I’m) the elephant in the room, so if I just bring it up and make it funny, it’s okay and I’m getting the inevitable out of the way. THAT’S A LIE. Bobby, Tan, Karamo, Antoni, and JVN would NOT hear those words coming out of my mouth!!!!  Karamo would probably stick me in intensive therapy to learn how to see myself better, and how to speak better about myself. He LITERALLY recorded one guy and when the man heard how many times he fat-shamed himself, he was shook. I should try that.

A few years ago, before we got pregnant with our son, I had a conversation with David where I was the most vulnerable I have ever been. I told him that I thought God hated me. I had to come to a place where I could allow myself to trust that no, He actually LOVES me. Jesus LOVES me. I still struggle with it on a daily basis; it’s like I somehow have to un-brainwash myself, and it takes time. I have to push myself out of the thought pattern that, “people only say they love you because they feel  obligated to.” No, Cassidy, there are people out there that truly, deeply love you (um, like your husband? Seriously!?).  I feel like those are words that I need tattooed on my arm, to remind me that I’m not some wretched being. I’m not.

Christianity fails us when it doesn’t teach that Jesus loves us and that we can foster a relationship with God. Too often we sit in churches or classes that teach us that we’re never good enough for anything, and that we have to fit into a certain mold before He’ll accept us. That’s religion. I’m not about that, and neither is God. I’m not going to get all Calvinistic on you, but GRACE IS AWESOME. We are so loved, and our Father wants to know us. He wants us to know Him, and life is about that process–it’s about building that relationship between Him and us, not about us thinking we’ll never measure up, we suck, etc., He never says that. He gives grace, He loves us in ways we can’t understand, and He knows our hearts. When we build that relationship with him, it pours over into every facet of how we view ourselves and how we treat other people. It’s gorgeous!!

Why have I allowed erroneous, religious, self-flagellating theology to make me think that it’s a bad thing, to look in the mirror and be satisfied with what I see? Fat, scars, acne, wrinkles—it’s all part of my story, even the parts that aren’t pretty, so why can’t I look at this whole package and be thankful that I’m still here? For women in particular, I think we’ve been brainwashed into believing that negative self-talk is a requirement, and that we have to trust in other people to validate us in order for us to count. What a crock, right?!?

It’s hard for me to look in a mirror and like what I see. Is it arrogant? Is it foolish? Sure, I will take a selfie (thanks, Cousin Lisa, for that lesson in angles so many years ago!) if I feel like I look less-Princess-Fiona-ish or if I like my outfit. I think I’ve learned from the Instagram influencers that I follow that it’s good to documkermitent your journey, even if it doesn’t get you any clicks. As a mom, it’s hard for me to remember sometimes to snap that picture; however, I think of how I feel about pictures of MY mom when she was my age, and I want to recreate those feelings for my son. “Hey, Rico! Here’s your Mama feeling herself in that Kermit shirt!!!!! “ LOL!  Seriously, though—Maybe my mom didn’t feel like she was beautiful in every picture that I have of her, but I definitely think she was and is. I’m glad I have every picture of her that I have. David taught me the value of a photograph, and I respect photography as a method of journaling. Sometimes a selfie is just that—it’s a diary entry that happens to be public…kinda like a blog.

I’m learning to accept myself and the skin that I’m in. I’m learning that less is more….That I don’t “need” more to fill the void; I just need to redirect my focus on positive thoughts and on uplifting my spirit to fill the void. In Philippians 4, Paul talks about being content both with and without…I think that verse, and the other verses in the link, are verses that I/we could read every day just to teach us how to not only be grateful to God, but also how to love and respect where we are in life, be it how we look, where we work, or whatever our “station” is. I have to learn to love where I am and who I am, right now, before I can improve.

Part of that, for me, includes deluging my brain with positivity….Not positivity for the sake of lying to myself….more like, positivity for the sake of keeping my sanity and of finding my worth, and for the sake of the actual truth.  The Fab Five are SO positive, watching them make life-changing decisions and re-wire stuck mental concepts for internal success, has been good for my soul. It’s one thing to know you need to reboot your outlook…it’s another thing to actually watch it happen, and to learn how you can do it for yourself.

It makes me stop and think, and it makes me grateful to know the God Who created me with Love. Honestly, it makes me want to build that relationship with Him even more.

There’s a beautiful thing that happens in every episode of “Queer Eye,” where you see the subject look at themselves in the mirror, and you see them “snap.” It’s like someone takes the blinders off of their eyes and their minds; they realize, whether it’s because of Karamo’s life-goals; JVN’s hairography; Tan’s closet overhaul; Antoni’s food love; or Bobby’s renovation (seriously, he works THE HARDEST, and he’s my favorite); they realize that THEY’RE WORTH IT. They’re worth self-care! They’re worth having an organized household! They’re worth eating good, quality food! They’re worth LOVING!!!!!!! It’s like no one ever told them these things, or if they were told, they forgot!!!

The Fab Five REMIND them of who they TRULY are, and I think that’s an important spiritual truth.

I need to be reminded of Who I Am.

There’s a scene in Moana where she is facing the fire demon/god on the island, and she has to replace the Heart of Te Fiti. Moana has a SNAP moment where she realizes that the Fire Demon/god IS Te Fiti, but she’s completely forgotten it over time, and has resigned herself to being this horrible, terrifying being.

She bravely takes the Heart stone, and walks up to the scary monster….She sings the lines, “This is not who you are; I know who you are,” and she puts the heart back in its rightful place. SPOILER ALERT: The monster turns into Te Fiti, and the land is beautiful and fertile once again.

To me, it’s one of the single most spiritual moments I have ever seen in a film (and I’ve probably blogged about it before). You’ve been broken and burned; you’ve lost your heart and your way, and you don’t even realize it. Someone believes in you…someone sees you for who you truly are…and your heart is restored and healed. It’s what Jesus does for us on every possible level. He knows Who We Are…and He knows WHO HE MADE US TO BE.

I firmly believe that God uses unconventional methods to minister to our hearts. For me, it’s watching 5 guys give makeovers in rural America….5 men who see beautiful hearts in everyone they meet, and who just wants to help them live their absolute best life…5 men who know that human beings are WORTH fostering and loving, regardless of their appearances….5 guys who have faced their own journeys, failures, and successes, and who are on a mission to leave blessings and positivity everywhere they go.

I NEED THAT KIND OF LOVE IN MY LIFE, Y’ALL!!!!  Confidence in abilities, goals and achievements, having someone else not only see something in you, but having the ability to help you bring it out—isn’t that what we’re supposed to do for each other?!?  I need to do that for people! I need it for myself! Jesus says I’m worth something, and so are you…even if we just say the words to ourselves, it’s positivity we can speak into ourselves. Negative self-talk is so easy, and I know I feel stupid if I say, “Dang it, YOU’RE WORTH IT!” (Shout-out to Stuart Smalley!)! But I/we need to!

We can speak Bible verses aloud to ourselves about how much God loves us. We can literally write down things that we like about ourselves in order to offset those negative attacks of the Enemy. We can share those verses with people around us that are struggling, and we can help others, and ourselves, find our SNAP moment where we catch a glimpse of how HE sees us…how Jesus sees us….

So, thank you,  Queer Eye….Thank you for being a reminder that regardless of what I think I see, there is so much more, and that there is more than enough to bridge the gap between Sunday and Thursday night. Thank you for being one more thing in this world to point me back to the love and the value that God pours over us.

There’s nothing more fabulous than that. ❤

qe

P.S. (This is where I fan-girl out): IF I WERE TO EVER get the chance to meet them, I might die–and yes, I am a 41-year old grown woman. Also, my husband is dying to know how Tan does his hair. Also, I want to hug Antoni and Bobby in particular and tell them I’m sorry on behalf of every Christian that hurt their beautiful giant hearts, because that’s not what we’re supposed to be about. Also, I want Karamo to know his mental revolution of the guy that got married in the 3rd season WRECKED ME & was better than most sermons I’ve sat through. Finally, I want JVN to know that I would NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS enter into a political debate with him, because sister knows her stuff–JVN would DESTROY me. Even though we disagree on some things, I just like to hear him talk, because to hear someone of any side of a debate intelligently explain their position is like gold these days, and I am here for ALL of it.

Y’all got me writing with bad grammar. I’m shook. That is all. ❤

Joe.

When David & I got married in the spring of 2005, he said we needed to get back into a church.

I’d been hurt–really hurt–and had taken a year off before our wedding to focus on building our relationship and planning a wedding…or at least, that’s what I told myself. Really, I just took a year off to be a giant slug that spent weekends visiting my fiancée. 🙂 I didn’t want to go to church; I wanted to sleep in and go on adventures.

So, we did.

And then we got married. 🙂 He said, “We need to go to church.” I drug my feet (I really, really like to sleep). He said, “No, really–we’re going to church.”

So, we did.

He took me to a church at the corner of Lindbergh & Sappington. I don’t think I’ll ever forget my first day there. I met Felina Stevens and Lynn Renaud, and thought to myself, “there’s no way those people are really that nice.” Like I said, I’d been REALLY hurt. So, I lifted one eyebrow in skepticism, and I watched for WEEKS. Finally, I was convinced–all of these people REALLY WERE that nice. Crazy.

Pastors Joe and Sherry LoRusso welcomed us into their church like extra family members. Sherry & I had some similar parenting adventures, and she began to open up to me about how she processed, forgave, and moved forward through her hurts. She counseled me through so much healing, and she may not know this, but she’s probably the most influential reason as to why my relationship with my mother is so much better today than it was at that time. Pastor Joe–well, Pastor Joe brought me more joy and love than I probably ever expressed to him.

Pastor Joe went home to the Lord yesterday, and I’m still processing. A dear friend called me and told me directly, and protected me from discovering his passing over social media. I don’t think I will ever forget that gesture–what an amazing thing for a friend to do. Social media is not how anyone should discover that someone has passed away, so I am grateful for the personal discussion.

Pastor Joe had been through a great many physical challenges over the past year, but in my heart of hearts, I truly thought we’d see him back in the pulpit at some point. The pulpit was where he belonged.

I look back over my time at Rivers of Life church in those tender years….We started going in the spring of 2005, and just over a year later, in the fall of 2006, our daughter passed away. That congregation not only celebrated my pregnancy and Hannah’s birth with us; they carried us through her death and her funeral. Pastors Joe & Sherry were by our side for hours on end at the hospital; one of the most impactful images in my life is seeing Joe literally on the floor of the waiting room, crying out to God and interceding for our daughter. Having pastors that will get on the floor and fight your battles with you, is one of the most amazing experiences a Christian could ever hope to have. I know that sounds weird–who wants to go through those parts of life?!?!?  Going through Hell, verses going through Hell side-by-side with warriors–there’s a huge difference. I will never, ever forget the way they interceded for us. I’d never seen prayers like that, or dedication like that, and it changed my life.

People don’t know this, but Joe & Sherry jumped in and planned Hannah’s funeral for us, because we simply couldn’t. They utilized church funds to help us cover expenses (David was out of work at the time), and they rallied our community to cover meals during and after Hannah’s hospital stay. They created a network of support; they brought together other women who had been in my shoes to help me navigate the years after losing my daughter. They literally kept David & I breathing after we lost our child, and not once did they EVER make us feel like we weren’t healing or processing  or grieving inappropriately. They gave us the gift of a safe place to grieve.

In the years that followed, when every doctor in every state that I visited said I couldn’t have anymore children, Joe believed. He believed when everyone around me told me to give up and said I should get over it. I believed, and Joe believed.

JOE LORUSSO BELIEVED IN THE HEALING POWER OF A LOVING GOD, and no matter where he went, who he lost, or what illness he went through, that belief didn’t waiver.

I know that Joe & Sherry are tremendously influential in the spiritual DNA of St. Louis. Coming out of New Covenant (I think?) and then Hill Fellowship, Joe’s leadership in the church has had international influence. He is…was…a great, great man….a great family man, and an amazing father.

But to me, he is…was…my pastor.

Joe LoRusso showed me what it meant to put feet to my faith. He showed me how to be strong but also, to be true. When Rivers of Life merged with Victory Church to become Southgate, and I began to meet people and to make new friends, I’d occasionally hear that someone was “offended” at something Joe said. In fact, he misread a confidential e-mail I’d sent him and the other pastors one time (I was in a pretty dark place about the whole “can’t have kids” thing), and he had me come to the front of the church with my husband. He shared what I’d put in the letter–about my discouragement and my heartbreak–and he asked the church to pray for me. I can’t remember the details, but it got out that I’d wanted that information kept confidential. More than one person approached me in anger and said, “Aren’t you upset?!?!”  Never. Not once. Anyone that was offended by anything Joe LoRusso said didn’t know or appreciate his heart. Period.

I’ve never met another person with less pride or less self-promotion, than Joe LoRusso. I honestly do not believe he would ever/could ever intentionally insult or harm another person when it comes to wanting the best for them, or for wanting to see Jesus work in their lives. Maybe it didn’t come across in the fluffiest of ways–whatever. He loved people. He loved his church family. He loved his family with his whole heart, and I know he loved his wife.

My mother had a pastor and his wife that were like adopted parents to her. Milo & Edna were retired Baptist preachers who were married over 70 years, and passed away within months of each other. I watched them pour into my mother’s life for decades, and always appreciated the sheltering relationship they had with her. They told her the truth, in love, and they invested into her to make her love Jesus more. That’s what pastors do. That’s what shepherds do.

That’s what Joe & Sherry LoRusso have done for David & I, and for so many people, for decades.

I am so privileged to have known Joe, and to have been a part of the Rivers of Life congregation. Joe & Sherry have invested into David & I, even though it’s been 6 years since we’ve been in their congregation. They’ve made a lasting impact that has made us love Jesus more. They’ve given us truth in love, and they’ve shown us examples of being in the trenches with practical faith.

The LoRussos educated me on the beauty of the Italian family in a way that I had never really been exposed to (even though my dad is Italian). The sense of community that runs through their home extends to how they treat people in their church. Going to the LoRusso’s home was always full of laughter, hugs, amazing food, and lessons about everything from cooking, to spiritual growth, to parenting advice. Family is family, at church or at home—it’s consistent, because it’s genuine. That’s a beautiful thing to have, and to get to be a part of: Real, genuine people that genuinely love Jesus and want His will….that love people because He says to love them, and that care enough about you to give you the truth.

Joe LoRusso was a man of truth and of faith, and he lived it, 24/7. He proved that it can be done, all the way, in the valleys and on the mountains.

I know that it’s the “Christian-thing” to say—“to be absent from the body is to be home with the Lord.” I get it. And as a Christian, I know that Joe is with Jesus, and wouldn’t want it any other way. He’s a Good and Faithful Servant, and he’s in his reward–that’s amazing.

Joe’s a husband and a father. He’s a brother, an uncle, and a grandfather. He has an amazing family that is extremely, beautifully close, and his passing will leave a tremendous hole, so my heart hurts for all of them. The LoRusso legacy is strong in St. Louis, and he will be missed by so many.

Personally, I will miss seeing Joe peek into my church–which meets in that same building where everything, for The Cooleys, started–and sitting in his chair during worship. I’ll miss seeing him take over the pulpit when something would hit him just right (my former pastor would always give him due respect when he would visit, and would hand over the microphone if Joe would raise his hand. 🙂 I think anyone in our community would do the same). I’ll miss hearing his passion for Israel and for the Jewish community, and I’ll miss his jokes about soccer, red-cards, and old Westerns or military movies.

I don’t know how to conclude this…my heart hurts, and I feel like I’ve done a poor job of writing out just how much I appreciate this man. I’m so, so thankful for Joe & Sherry…I’m thankful for that day in 2005 where my bratty little feet shuffled their way into a small congregation on Lindbergh, and my life was forever changed.

Thank you, Joe LoRusso, for not being satisfied with simply becoming a Christian and then resting on your laurels. Thank you for your passionate, relentless pursuit of learning about this Jesus Who changes lives and mends hearts. Thank you for trusting Him to shape you into the man you became–the husband, father, pastor, intercessor, leader, and friend. Thank you for getting in the trenches with me and so many others over the years who were lost and embattled. Thank you for being that shepherd who isn’t just a pastor in title, but who actually lived the life and the sacrifice. Thank you for setting the example, and for giving the truth in love, even when it didn’t win you any fans. Thank you for not giving up, and for continuing to have faith and passion, even in the hardest of times. Thank you for having the strength to apologize when you made mistakes, and for being a humble leader, even when you had every reason to get prideful. Thank you for opening up your house to us (and our dog!), and for giving us a second home when we were lost in grief. Thank you for always, always taking the time to talk to me, even though I have the worst sense of timing. Thank you for never making me feel stupid, and for always treating me like I mattered.

Thank you for seeing David & I for who we really were, and for loving us as we were. We are grateful….You are so very loved.

well done