adhd

Job 38 & The #CosmicClapBack

/ Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

I have to say, there are like, 15 drafts in my blog log that I can’t seem to finish because I have SO much to say, and not-quite-the-right words to say it. Since my last post, a new year has began; my son has become a teenager; and I’ve begun a double-focused deep-dive into the Old Testament. On one hand, I’m studying a book by Michael Rood called The Chronological Gospels: The Life and 70-Week Ministry of the Messiah. I highly recommend it for a brain scramble; what I thought would be a two-week study now appears to be at least a year, if not longer, by both written and visual studies. Right now, I have more things to think about than I could possibly post, but I’m sure I’ll write about it at some point. I’m also going through The One Year Chronological Bible as published by Tyndale House (NLT).

I’ve discovered that when you listen to a book, you get an entirely different interpretation of it as opposed to reading it. There are so many nuances I’m picking up; it’s really mind-blowing. I really feel like I’ve spent the last 5 years first unraveling–as opposed to “deconstructing”–various doctrinal and theological teachings, and rebuilding said concepts with gentle correction & a much better focus on loving Jesus and loving people (my mission statement is just that: Love Jesus. Love People. That’s the Mission.). What that looks like when wrapped up in erroneous theology is NOT the same as it’s looking now, and I love that God has given me the grace and time to relearn things in a new perspective (soooo much to learn). I also love that He’s surrounded me with friends, family, and church leadership that support and help me navigate this stuff, because it’s a LOT.

To give you some context as to why this is smoking my brain quite so much, most of you know I grew up in the church & I spent my entire education, including my Bachelor’s, in Christian schools. Reading the Bible has always been a huge struggle for me; a few years ago, a missionary friend prayed that I would develop a genuine “love” for the Bible. Another prayed that I would become a “lover of the Word instead of just a lover of words,” and those words have stayed with me. Over the last few years, it’s slowly-but-surely bloomed in my heart, & in this year in particular, it’s kind of a raging fire.

I’ve read the Bible out-of-order, in-order, in the original languages (vicariously), via commentary, as a textbook, you name it–it’s been foundational my entire life but this time? This time it’s exploding & I feel like it’s finally in full, living color. I get so excited about it–I used to tell an old boyfriend “my” versions of Bible stories & he always loved it because he said I made it “real.” That’s what I feel like for myself with the audio Bible & the studies I’m doing! It’s so vibrant, and that carries over when I discuss it with my son. I’ve started playing it for him when I take him to school, & then talking about it with him. I hope he puts it in his memory bank & that he eventually develops even more of a love for it…that would be the best thing ever.

I’ve never really looked at the Book of Job the way I’m looking at it right now. In fact, it’s always been kind of a sore spot for me, because he lived such an incomparable life. Who can say they’re blameless like he was?!? I mean, the guy made burnt sacrifices after every single feast for EACH ONE OF HIS KIDS in case they sinned and didn’t realize it! That’s some dedication! BRO HAD 10 KIDS!!!!!!!! You know how hard that had to be to do?!?!?! Not to mention, how expensive?!?!?!? I’d be like, put that kid in a bubble so he can’t make any mistakes and save me a few bucks!!!

Job loses everything (except his wife. Ever think about that?!? She’s all like, “curse God and die!” and he’s like, “Nope. Gonna go sit outside the city in the ashes and cry for a while. Peace out.” And I guess she stayed at home and mourned the loss of her family/status, etc. on her own? Um, Job? Can I just say I’ve been in her shoes, kinda, and my husband basically said the same thing? She just lost her 10 children, can we cut her some slack?!?!?!?!? Nope. That’s pretty much all she’s known for at this point. Sheesh.).

His 3 friends come and sit outside the city with him in the ashes while he mourns for 7 ENTIRE DAYS in silence. SILENCE! Nobody talks until after Job’s first speech and then they like, blow it. Bless their hearts–after Hannah died, I started to remind myself that people (especially Christians) have “the best of intentions and the worst of execution,” and Job’s friends hit that mark. They think they’re helping him by trying to convict him of whatever “secret sin” he must have had to deserve such “judgement” while he defends his integrity. They don’t have any other frame of reference for why someone would go through such a hard time–why else would someone who outwardly loved God so publicly, go through such a heartache? We always want to find a reason that matches our processing, but we serve a God that doesn’t have to bow to our line of thinking. He isn’t required to make sense for us, and Job’s friends don’t quite have that figured out. But bless ’em, they tried. He maintains his innocence, Elihu speaks, and then BOOM. Job 38.

“Who is this that questions my wisdom
    with such ignorant words?
Brace yourself like a man,
    because I have some questions for you,
    and you must answer them.” (Job 38 1-3)

If I could have jumped up and yelled, I would have (I was driving. Bad idea.). God waited 38 chapters to REMIND JOB WHO HE IS!!!!! HE SAID THAT. #CosmicClapback

Y’all, I nearly wrecked my dang car. “BRACE YOURSELF LIKE A MAN.” What is happening?!?!?!? Man-oh-man, if the Lord tells you to brace yourself, you’d better grab the zip ties, the handcuffs, the duct tape, some velcro, and a couple of ropes, because whatever the next sentence is, you’re gonna get knocked the heck back like the cow at the 36-second mark!.

Ever wonder what Job’s posture was when God spoke? What the 3 friends (+Elihu) were doing? Did everyone just fall out? Hit the deck? Roll over and show their bellies?!?!?!?!? Did the sky split open, or maybe the ground?!?!? Like, what was going on while He was speaking?!?!?! And who wrote it all down?!?!?!?!?

Who says God isn’t occasionally sarcastic?!? You can really play with intonation in the Bible and this chapter is a great example. We weren’t there. Ever wonder what His tone was? This is a total, “Who do you think you are?!?” kind of moment and in my brain, He’s thundering like a mom that’s just plain DONE with her child’s mouth.

This chapter is so, so beautiful (as so many are), and I know I could break down every chapter the same. For some reason, this one really struck me to the point that I had to blog about it. The way He lays down Who He Is and what He does, and what He’s done, is poetic and strong, factual without shaming. He’s not telling Job that he sucks, or that he’s a failure. He’s not beating him up. He’s not ignoring him or smiting him, or cutting him down to size with cruelty.

He’s telling him why He can be trusted.

Job 38 paints a stunning picture of the God of Creation. It makes me get emotional. I don’t know who wrote Job, but props to that writer because the mental pictures they painted are jaw-dropping. “What supports its (the earth’s) foundations, and who laid its cornerstone as the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy?” (Job 38:6) Just….wow…This is the One Who put the stars in the sky. We can trust Him with our hearts, in however many pieces they may be in.

We look at God like we’ve forgotten that to have the fear of the Lord doesn’t mean that we live like an abused child cowering in fear of being struck. It means that we remember Who He Is, and God IS Love (I John 4:7-8)! I struggle with this as a default, because in spite of as many verses in the Bible that reiterate the loving character of our Father, I tend to hyperfocus on the negative interpretations of Him that were pounded into my head…the judgy, religious, Pharisaical interpretations of an angry God that just can’t wait to flatten us into the depths….We look at the Old Testament like it’s the Home of the God Who Smites and the New Testament like it’s the Fountain of Grace, but we forget that God doesn’t change. He’s the same-Hebrews 13:8 says that “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, and today, and forever,” so is it crazy to remember that the same God Who split the ground open and swallowed a rebellion for the sake of His beloved is the same God Who sacrificed His Son to give us the gifts of restoration and reunion with Him for eternity?

That’s bananas.

When Cory Asbury sang about the “Reckless Love” of God, this is the kind of stuff I think about. I think about the presumed dichotomy of the painted Old Testament figure verses the loving Jesus of the New Testament. I think about the actual truth, that this incredible, omniscient, omnipresent, omni______________Father Who created this entire earth loves us for who we are. He loves us where we are, wherever we are in our pursuit of Him, whether it’s me getting academically twisted and theologically sidelined, or Lecrae wrestling with deconstruction (and coming back stronger), or my pastor sitting in a room with me, helping me untangle and refocus. He loves us enough that He doesn’t look at us and turn up His nose at our questioning. He welcomes it!

And He never, ever leaves us in the process.

Spoiler Alert: The Book of Job ends with total restoration…

After Job is confronted/reminded by God, he puts himself in the correct position of taking a few steps back and recognizing that he HAD indeed sinned…he forgot that yep, God knows what He’s doing. God never tells him all of this was a test that we know of. Job has to trust Him through all of it. He realizes his place in all of this, and puts his trust in God where it belongs. Natalie Grant sings in the song, “Held,” that “who told us we’d be rescued? What has changed, and why should we be saved from nightmares?” In my own walk through grieving, I realized that like Job, I spent more time grieving my losses and blaming God than in trusting in His will and realizing that He doesn’t owe us any explanations. That’s literally what faith is–accepting the unknown because you believe in what you cannot understand.

Job’s beautiful transparency in how he grieves his losses publicly, without shame; how he openly speaks to the Lord about his questions and his broken heart; and how he still remains strong enough to defend his own integrity when everyone else is accusing him; exists so that we in our own grief and loss see an example of how we should respond when “bad” things happen to “good” people. We grieve…we mourn. We get angry. We feel betrayed, but we don’t walk away (sometimes we’re just on the ground for a while, paralyzed), and eventually, in our healing process, we learn to trust in His ways above our own understanding. Job’s journey is a vibrant reflection of the very power of God over our own individual crises & upheavals, and how such a powerful God still speaks to us in the midst of it all. He REMAINS and He LOVES.

The three friends? God tells them that they’re boneheads and they’d better let Job pray for them–and that Job BETTER pray for them–and then everything Job lost is restored and then some. He’s restored and reconciled with his family, his friends, and his city, and his life ends in blessing on blessing (and Elihu, strangely enough, and Job’s wife, aren’t mentioned again. Hmm). We don’t know the ins-and-outs of how it all shook out, but we know that the conclusion of the story is a beautiful life.

Listening to the Bible verses reading it, for me, seems to bring out so much personality and individual application; the book of Job in particular resonates with me in an entirely new way. There are just so many new things that I’m hearing, & it’s coming alive, so I’d encourage you to give it a try! I’m guilty of thinking there’s “only one way” to do certain things, so I’m glad I’ve branched out over the last few years to give different ways of learning a chance. As it turns out, it’s revelatory, and it’s helping prayers come to fruition that were prayed over me years ago.

In this crazy world of upheaval, please look at Job as a man who went through chaos and destruction, learned the very character of God in a new way, and saw healing and restoration. His friends tried to help with the right hearts but the wrong answers–that happens so often! The same God that allowed Job to go through such trials and testing loves you and doesn’t always give you an answer for why times are challenging….but He DOES give you a refuge. He welcomes your questions, your tears, and your grieving. He wants to hear your heart; He’s big enough to hold it. We’re not guaranteed answers or even physical restoration on this earth, but we know we’ll get both in eternity. It’s worth the pursuit of Him and the humbling of ourselves, even when we don’t understand. He’s worth our faith, and He deems us worthy of His love through Jesus. He truly is our “peace that passes all understanding,” regardless of the season we are in… and He never leaves us or forsakes us.

That’s a beautiful verse whether you’re hearing it or reading it. 🙂

Note: I guess people that actually write had better start adding a disclaimer. No AI was used in the composition, idea, editing or writing of this piece. Welcome to the hamster wheel of my brain on virtual paper, free of robots, AI, and occasionally, spell-check. 🙂

“Where’d You Go?!” AKA, “The Case of the Missing Body”

/ Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

I’m going to start this blog out by making a statement I never thought I’d make & am terrified to state publicly: I have lost over 100 pounds.

“Where’d you GO?!?” is the question I am most commonly asked, and I generally respond, “I’m right here.” I’m still me. I’m still a giant jerk…still a giant nerd…still a flawed bonehead that loves Jesus & fails every day. I’m just….lighter.

I’m still a “big girl,” & I’m cool with that (even though I look like Shrek in family photos–why is everyone so SHORT?!?). I’ll never be petite–I’ve got hips that could birth a Hereford–& I’m 5’7.” I have feet like Sasquatch (my sister calls me “Casquatch” & I embrace it), so don’t get it twisted–I’m solidly built. I’m as my college “friend” called me, “healthy.”

Body confidence has NEVER been my forte. I dealt with so much body shaming growing up; when you grow up in the Church & you develop early, you’re punished for it. It’s crap. I was 14 and a DD, & my tiny, little Christian school couldn’t handle it. I got dress coded on a regular basis (like I asked for it?!?); my mom always reminded me to “suck it in,” as I had a belly even before I had my babies. I look back at pictures of myself, & I looked AMAZING at 17, but felt like a total freak show. I was taller, curvier, & louder than everyone I knew, and none of those things fit in well with a culture that wants you to be “meek.”

I felt hideous. I was “too much” for society, for church, & even for my family. I was different–I acted differently, and “different” was “bad,” so I tried to be what people wanted. I tried to dress in a way that covered everything up, but that’s hard to do when you’re top-heavy (& I only got more top-heavy as I went through college, leading to some horrific nicknames that I am still embarrassed by). If I could have taken a knife and cut off various parts of my body to relieve how ugly I felt, I would have. Every family picture showed how I didn’t fit in (several of those pictures are still on the walls in my parents’ house). Every group picture in the church youth group with the tiny, petite blue-eyed girls with straight hair, every picture of my vocal group in college where I’m trying to hide beneath suit jackets & scarves, every picture of me from my wedding where there’s industrial-strength tailoring holding me into my dress–every picture has a flaw I can’t help but to see.

These flaws are compounded by Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, which is a common thing for people with ADHD to struggle with.

I didn’t know I had ADHD until a few years ago. I just thought I was a weirdo, an outcast, the one “odd” personality type in a family that all tested one way while I tested another (side note: Personality tests were not designed for the neurodivergent. Throw them in the trash). I don’t fit in now, and I didn’t fit in then. Being told I was “different” added to the RSD. I looked different. I acted different. I was Built Different.

And therefore, I was BAD.

This voice that tells me I’m a “terrible, awful, horrible, wacky weirdo” has whispered in my ear for decades. It’s robbed me of being at peace with this “strange” mind, this “odd” body…it’s taken away the joy of being “fearfully and wonderfully made” that I should have celebrated, that I should BE celebrating. It’s sent me through cycles of self-harm & suicidal ideations that even though I recognize, I still encounter (sometimes through reasons I can’t control, i.e., medication changes–thank you, family & friends, for loving me through these processes!!!!!). Being weird or different, regardless of the fact that society is trying to preach inclusivity, isn’t welcomed, so I should just check out, right?

WRONG.

We just don’t realize how body image issues carry over into mental health…how it’s a spiritual issue that’s complicated by neurological and hormonal issues. Weight is NEVER the true problem. It’s ALWAYS a symptom, yet our healthcare system is only just starting to realize how true that is. Ask a fat person–we’ll tell you….but because we’re fat, we’re intrinsically stupid, right, doctors? And therefore, our opinion is void….and we pile on the mental health issues.

I’m 47 years old. It wasn’t until my ADHD was diagnosed and properly treated that I started looking over life experiences with a fresh filter & learned just how toxic and damaging my body image issues were. Losing weight has further complicated this retrospect, as I can see how many times health care providers dismissed major problems in the light of my weight. I have carried decades of guilt over my weight, like it defined my worth as a Child of God. I have gaslit myself & ignored root issues that played out in binge-eating & self-harm. I have looked at family pictures and privately sobbed (sometimes not privately) at how disgusting I looked & how I brought shame on our family with my size. I have shed oceans of tears over the combined issues that I now know were rooted in anxiety, depression, neurodiversity, rejection sensitive dysphoria, PTSD, and abandonment issues.

Shame is a heavy, heavy burden to carry. When it’s combined with RSD, it’s soul-crushing. When the burden of untreated ADHD finally began to be lifted, the lies of RSD began to untangle, & I began to get clarity on this skin that I am in, on this body (amongst other things). The ability to focus allowed me to silence the inner static that had me snacking constantly. Getting my ADHD treated led to a healthcare provider that got my diabetes under control through a semiglutide (which is also something I never thought I’d say publicly, but whatever, we’re all friends). I overhauled my healthcare team in 2021 & began the process of what would ultimately lead to losing 110 pounds.

But now what happens? I get shamed for using a semiglutide? That’s the only part of the journey people focus on?!?!? The shot gets all of the credit?!?!?!?!? Um, no–you can shove that. Today, I am refusing to take shame or blame for using an injection to first-&-foremost, get my T2D under control. Did it help me lose weight? Absolutely. Was it the only thing? NO. It’s taken multiple medication changes, getting my ADHD treated, therapy, better food choices, family support, and most importantly, remaining focused on listening to the Holy Spirit to carry the shame & to help me identify triggers. When you brain starts to work properly–when the synapses fire & connect– you can hear the truth of God so much more clearly. My ADHD meds have turned down the static in my brain, & have turned up how I tune in to Him!

There’s more of me to give, even as there’s technically less of me. Life is more….LIFE. That’s not saying things are easy; in fact, if you check my last blog, you’ll find our life has become intensely complicated in the last few months, & it’s been ROUGH. I see God working even in the storms…He is still in control.

And by His grace, so am I, at least, when it comes to my mental health support and my weight loss journey.

Physically, “don’t you feel better since you’ve lost the weight?!” is a misnomer. Losing weight can sometimes a.) Remove being fat as the cause of the problem and b.) Exacerbate the problem. As we speak, I’m in the process of ruling out yet-more autoimmune issues related to my legs & feet (did you know there’s a medical level above a neurologist?? Yep–I now see a “neuroscientist,” & it’s a trip). Testing for another issue means I’m off of my primary ADHD medicine for a couple of weeks, & IT’S NOT FUN. I’ve had a frightening decline in my energy levels (aren’t those supposed to be BETTER once you’ve lost weight?!?) that specialists are trying to identify, but that fatigue has been a cyclical issue that’s followed me for a decade. Now we at least know I’m exhausted not because I’m fat, but because I’m…me. That’s fun.

I’d like to throw up a face-palm for every doctor that missed signs of major issues because I was heavier. YOU. ARE. JERKS. 🙂 Jesus still loves you; I think you can go climb a cactus, for real.

Weight loss is hard, even in the face of perceived successes. I have anxiety every single time I clean out my closet (so bad!!!!!) or go into a store. I STRUGGLE with body image issues. The picture I’m posting below is what set off this blog post…I feel like I should LIKE this picture. I’m like, genuinely laughing in this picture, yet all I can see is the fact that because it was taken by someone who is shorter than I am, my neck looks fat. And fat, in my crazy-wired brain, is BAD. Therefore, even though I’ve lost weight, I’m still fat and ugly and this picture is terrible, right?

I sent this picture to someone who has been on a similar weight-loss journey & said, “I want to like this picture but I don’t.” She told me it was gorgeous (and considering she’s stone-cold STUNNING, I should take her word for it, but I don’t). She understands how I still feel like a heifer even after losing the weight; she struggles with the body image issues as well, even though she’s always had the figure I wish I had. The conversations I’ve had with her on our body image issues validates how I’m feeling, and how I know it’s messed up but can’t fix it.

I have to forcefully remind myself that losing weight does not define me. I’m terrified to gain it back, but if I do, gaining weight does not define me. This body is the shell for Who I Am, and although Who I Am is a definite weirdo, Jesus says I’m frickin’ SPECTACULAR. Whatever it takes for me to embrace that I am Who He Says I Am, that’s the journey I am committing to take, here on out.

My son is inspiring me to make this commitment. He’s on the shorter side of the kids in his class, & was recently tapped to play Napoleon in the school play (he didn’t really want a speaking role; he says that’s why he was cast in the role & I’m taking his word for it, even though a lil’ heathen said it was because he was short. I see her…duly noted, child, with a healthy dose of parental side-eye.)

My son’s body image issues started in the first-or-second grade, when the more athletic boys in the class were comparing muscles. What first grader has defined muscles?!?! Um, not mine–sorry, child, it’s not in the genetic cards. Since then, I try to stay aware of realistic comments like, “yeah, Mom, basketball’s not really my thing, hello?!?” verses shaming comments like, “I’m just fat, Mom.”

No, son, you’re not fat. I hate that you know that word and I hate that I’m the reason why. I’m sorry that your genetics predispose you to being on the thicker side but I also know that you’re on the cusp of a growth spurt & that you’ll lean out. I’m sorrier that he’s picked up on my own issues & struggles, and that being ADHD himself, he has some of the same eating habits that I developed to try & quiet my brain. “Bored eating” is a thing, & all of us fight it. I don’t know that the body image issues will resonate as deeply with him as it did with me at that age…but I also don’t think that body image issues are relegated to gender. Body dysmorphia is more impactful amongst the neurodivergent, so I suspect my son & I will be having this conversation a few times in the coming years. I am praying that he will come to me with these discussions to avoid the decades of pain this has caused me…

It’s very, very strange to see someone I haven’t seen in a long time & have them comment on my weight first-thing. Frankly, it’s rude–don’t do that. Don’t ask the people close to me how I’ve lost weight either–I’m an open book & if you were my friend, you’d know to ask me directly. If you don’t know, we’re not friends. We’re social media acquaintances in good standing. I don’t really want to discuss my weight, and part of the reason for this blog post is to hopefully put an end to the questions. I don’t like talking about weight–what woman does?!?–and if you like to talk about weight, good for you. Do it with someone else. It’s not a topic worth discussing.

Now, if you want to talk about Type 2 Diabetes, ADHD, RSD, or about how Jesus has changed my life, I will have these discussions All. Day. Long. The numbers on the scale, though? NO.

I am still the same person I was at +250 pounds. I am not, however, the same person I was 4 years ago…I look back at that person & I see a wholllllle lot of hurt that’s in the process of being identified and healed by a God Who has NEVER looked at me like anything but a beloved child.

I am listening to Him point out the pain in His gentle way, & love me to His wholeness.

This body will die some day. It will be fertilizer in the ground, or ash, or whatever…it isn’t eternal, so why have I put so much worth into to what people think of it? Why have I allowed it to have so much power over me when I look at it in the mirror? I can dress it up, slim it down, work it out–I can do everything within my power to build a body that doesn’t scream, “YUCK” when I look at it, but none of that will ever do anything more than build a shell for a divine creation of the Most High.

I’m worth dying for–He said so, & He lived-&-died for me. He rose again, & He is still working miracles through people today. All of our pain–all of my pain–& all of our struggles are things He is longing to hold in His hands, not to wipe away, but to walk us through. Weight loss is often seen by the world as a kind of salvation; I can tell you first-hand it is NOT. It’s a tool, however, & it can be used to harm or to help. I’m choosing to use it as a tool to point out what areas are still raw & that need to be given over to Jesus…where my insecurities show that I can further lay things down for Him, & where I realize the idols I’ve put in front of Him…I’m choosing to lose the weight but gain dependence on Jesus to a greater extent, to gain transparency with Him & to stop masking to such a degree that I convince myself that I’m fine. I’m not. I need Him, & I need His work in my mind, body, and soul.
He’s doing new things, and for that, more than anything–ADHD treatment, weight loss, etc.–I am so thankful.

Now you know. Let’s put this topic to bed, ‘k? 🙂 Unless you want me to flip it into a full sermon, because…I will. 🙂