fear

Nashville (Where Else Can I Go?)

/ Cassidy S. Cooley / 1 Comment

I am shaken to my core.


Sandy Hook broke my heart and put a fear in me that I have never truly gotten over. I was pregnant with Jericho at the time, days away from being hospitalized, and was absolutely terrified to bring my child into this world. I remember sitting in my office, bawling my eyes out, typing messages back-&-forth to a coworker that “this is yet another reason why I’m determined to put my kid into a Christian school.”


I haven’t said anything about Nashville because I have to process that yet another protective bubble I’ve put around my child has been shattered.


I’ve Googled bulletproof backpacks. I’ve thought about quitting my job to homeschool more times than I can count. I’ve questioned God, gun laws, gender identity, and why the hell people are so distracted from the truth of these tragedies…I honestly don’t know what to do, or how to protect my child in any other way but to daily fall on my face and beg God to take care of him…to trust Him to watch over his school, his classmates, his teachers and leadership….

When I was pregnant with my son, I knew every day that I was carrying a miracle. I knew that I could keep him safe…I could eat and drink the best things (sorry about the Taco Bell); I could cut way down on my coffee, eliminate the occasional glass of wine, watch the salt, and take my medicine. I took shots every day with a smile on my face, knowing that if this is what I needed to do to bring this child safely into the world, I’d do it. I’d do anything. 30 days of bed rest and twice-daily injections? Absolutely. Daily lab draws and internal ultrasounds? You got it. Lights off, no reading, and no visitors? Sure thing, Doc–you name it. Whatever it took to keep my baby safe, that’s what I’d do.

When he was born, I remember the fear I had on the drive home from the hospital…no nurses? The outside world seemed so big and scary, and everyone was a potential threat. Even David’s driving was under a microscope; every car on the highway was the enemy. I didn’t take my hand off of the car seat until we carried him inside of the house.

I learned to carry him in a Moby wrap, and he’d nestle into my chest, safe and sound. I held him as closely as I could, & I continued wearing him in some kind of carrier until he was 5 years old. I know that sounds ridiculous to some, but when your kiddo is a runner and you’re not, it sure makes it much less panic-inducing to have him in a crowd of people. I remember the last time he was in the carrier; we were at a huge Blues festival, and I knew where he was the entire time. I could have fun, and so could he, and he was safe because he was right with me. Who is possibly safer than an slightly-psychotic mother?!?

In-home daycare and preschools were tolerated because they sent daily photos & I knew I could check on him any time. We loved the people who cared for Jericho, not only because they were so good to him, but because they were so understanding of my anxiety & they responded to me with love and patience (and prayer). We interviewed potential schools for almost 2 years, and finally chose a local Christian school. For me, it was never a question: My child would be in a private Christian school. They put Jesus first, and he would be safe & surrounded by people of faith who would love him.

Kindergarten started, and we had a principal that I’d grown to love…but then he retired. I had to learn to trust new people, which hasn’t been easy, but as Jericho has grown, so has my ability to let others lead him in his life (not without behind-the-scenes questioning and some minimal trouble-making when I’ve been irked). I’ve had lots of questions, and I’m sure at times the school has dreaded seeing my e-mails come through; overall, though, we know he’s in a place where he’s loved and that teaches him the truth of Jesus in love.

School safety is an issue, even for a small Christian school, and I had to get used to seeing security on my child’s campus. Nothing is more heartbreaking than hearing your child say they’ve had to endure active shooter training. What kind of world do we live in, where that’s done on a regular basis? What kind of mentally unstable maniac goes after children?!? In a school? I just don’t understand….I had a very difficult time when I as an adult had to undergo campus shooting safety training; I struggled with panic attacks in the aftermath of my first training (I’m not going to say I’m ashamed to admit that. I think if someone feels like this kind of training is natural, they’re the ones that are crazy, not me). Now that I work on a different campus where there doesn’t seem to be any active shooter training, I almost find that more frightening.

I am struggling today, people. I’d like to say that I sat down to write this blog thinking that I’d end it with some pithy, spiritual, give-it-all-to-Jesus solution, but I don’t have it. My former pastor used to repeatedly sing the phrase, “where else can I go?” Where else can I take this? Where else can I lay my fear, my urge to wrap my kid in packing materials and never let him leave my house? His school sent out a mass e-mail today stating they were re-evaluating security measures, & I had to fight the urge to grab my keys & to go get my son. I can’t live in fear, and I can’t let my kid see that I’m afraid; kids DESERVE to live a life free of this kind of anxiety, and as parents, we can’t show them how deep it runs.

I have no choice but to say on repeat, “where else can I go? ‘For You have been my refuge, a tower of strength against the enemy’.” (Ps. 61:3). I’m going to claim this verse repeatedly until the panic in my spirit settles down. I’m going to trust that God is in control, and that the fear that is plaguing me will not take over my thoughts and actions today. I’m going to do my job, do the laundry, take care of the dog and on the outside, present as a normal suburban mother….I’m going to pray until the panic stops, and crank up the worship music to change the atmosphere in my house.

What I will not do, is:

  • Politicize gun control (although I have MUCH to say on this issue)
  • Comment on how I feel like weaponizing sexual identity is a terrible approach to any issue (although I have MUCH to say on this issue)
  • Focus more on what I have to say than on the spiritual conditions of this nation and the fact that we’re at this level of daily violence (although I have MUCH to say on this issue)
  • Embrace the rhetoric that fuels violence and hatred on all sides of any issue these days (although I have MUCH to say on this issue)
  • Get caught up on social media comments and the keyboard commandos who can’t seem to filter themselves or to present with any kind of kindness or love in their words (although I have MUCH to say on the issue)
  • Tell everyone all of the things I have to say on these issues, as if my words are anything that have an effect on these seemingly never-ending attacks and topics

I think we all have a lot to say on the topics of school shootings, gun control, identity, and violence. Words do nothing. Actions > words. Votes > words. Love > words. “They will know we are Christians by our _________” Um, comments on Facebook? Nope, that’s not it….Tweets? Nope, that’s not it……Protests? Nope….By screaming at people? Wait….um, nope.

“They will know we are Christians by our LOVE,” John 13:35. I John 4:18, “Perfect love casts out fear.”

Today, I am afraid.

Today, I am angry.

Today, I am ready to snatch up my boy and hold him as tightly as I can hold his little 10 year-old self, & never let him go.

Today, I didn’t want to see him leave the house.

Today, I remember that I had to stop myself from going into his room at 3:00am to kiss his head and make sure everything was okay, because I’m still dealing with PTSD that it’s hard to admit I have.

Today, I am finding it difficult to focus, because my spirit is sick at the condition of the world and how it’s creeping in from the East and West Coasts, and is in my so-called safety zone of the Midwest.

Today, I am claiming the mercies of God to breathe.

I’m not having a mental breakdown. I’m just putting all of my feelings as a mother into words, as someone who struggles with anxiety on days where there hasn’t been a mass act of violence against children. I normally function quite well with my mental issues. Things like Nashville can derail me, but I do find that I’m now armed with the things I need to do to stay on track and to not let my anxiety be visible to my child (thank you, therapy and Celebrate Recovery). To be honest, I wrote this blog because the comments on Facebook were causing me to have so much anxiety that I ripped what’s left of my fingernails down to the quick–that’s me being very real. The fighting and politicizing have got me so on edge that I can’t think straight, and I’m about to get rid of Facebook all together. I sat down to blog it out just so I could process and refocus on the grace of God–where else can I go? If you Google that phrase, you’ll find it’s in the Bible multiple times. It’s foundational, especially when the fear is so overwhelming. I know I’m saying it again, but it’s true, and it’s how I’m ending this. We so often think of Psalm 139 for the passage on being “fearfully and wonderfully made,” which is true, but there’s another part of the chapter I am choosing to focus on today:

“Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.” (Ps. 139: 8-11)

Please join me today in praying for the overwhelming fear, panic, and hatred that has this nation so firmly in its grip. Pray for the mental health of parents and children who struggle with the understanding of the headlines; pray for Nashville and other cities that are triggered by yet another mass shooting. Pray for the people who fund lobbyists that focus more on bottom lines and money, rather than the lives of children. Pray that we all focus on how to love better, and how to love louder than the fear.

Fourteen.

/ Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

Every year around this time, I sit down to write with a focus on my Hannah Elizabeth Gayle Cooley. Can you believe she’d be 14 this year? This October 30th, my daughter would be turning 14 years old, & I’m sure had she stayed with us, that our social media feeds would be full of the things that mothers and teenagers are both besties and frenemies over. I’d like to think we’d have a great relationship, and that we would be on each other’s last nerve…that she’d be musical and lyrical, and free-spirited and independent, and that above all, she’d love Jesus. That’s my hope for both of my kiddos–that they love Jesus. I think a lot of parents would say that about their children.

Last night, I was perusing Instagram when the Humans of New York page came up:

“(edited for space)There were prayer chains and Facebook groups. My friends got together without me knowing, and they prayed over us. We received letters from so many people: family overseas, people we’d lost touch with, people we’d never met. We hung them all in the bathroom until the entire wall was filled. But a few weeks before our due date, we received the worst possible news: Elliana’s chest cavity hadn’t grown enough, and there wasn’t room for her lungs. I asked the doctor to give me the odds, but he just shook his head. We began to plan for her funeral… On the day of her birth, the waiting room was filled with people who loved us. They prayed from 10 AM to 5 AM the next day. I still keep a picture of that waiting room hanging in our hallway. And it’s my favorite picture, because it reminds me of all the people who petitioned for Elliana’s life. And we got our miracle. I struggle with it sometimes, because I know so many people lose their babies. But Elliana came out breathing on her own, and the doctors were in awe…Our story has a happy ending. But even when it seemed like a tragedy, I never felt alone. I never felt like the story was my own. Because in my darkest moments, a community of people chose to share my burden.”

I don’t need to go into the “whys,” for my breakdown (albeit a brief one) into the Ugly Crys. You know me well enough to understand that when I read the phrase, “we got our miracle,” that it broke me. I’m so grateful that HONY shared this story, because I remember what it was like to see that room full of people who poured their hearts out for days, petitioning to the Lord to save my daughter’s life. We didn’t get our miracle, and I can’t paint that in any kind of redeeming light. I will never understand the whys (on this earth), and even if I did, would that make it any better? No. So we pursue on in faith, trusting that He knows what He’s doing when He makes His choices.

Last week, our daily reading plan (click the link, you won’t be sorry–see my last blog for details) had us reading in both Micah and in 2 Timothy. In 2 Timothy, we see Paul coming to the end of his life, as he writes his final words from prison.

In Micah, we see a prophet trying to prepare his community…trying to get them to wake up and seek the Lord for their redemption…He states the oft-quoted,

Meanwhile, as Paul looks at the approaching end of his life, he states,

We have a mandate to “do justice, love mercy, and to walk humbly with our God.” Only when we do these things, can we look at the end of our life and say, with confidence (not arrogance) that we have “fought the good fight,” and that we have “kept the faith.”

This is not an easy thing to do…it’s not a small task, and Jesus knows what He is asking us to do.

Trials–deaths, sickness, COVID, poverty, unemployment, crime, whatever–come and go, but Jesus and His love for us are eternal.

That’s the only reason I have any hope for anything.

After I read the HONY story last night, I tripped up over “we got our miracle,” and my mind immediately went to “why?” I’ve blogged about this before; the “whys” range from plaintive cries to flat-out screams, and they’re always there in some respect. The question is do I stay there? Do I keep questioning, knowing the outcome will always be the same, until I’m face-to-face with Him? Or do I take a deep breath (or 50), let the tears fall, and listen to Him remind me that He loves me? That He’s still in control? That I’m heard, and that He understands? I make a choice every time the “why” comes to the forefront of my thoughts. I choose to “walk humbly with my God,” and that means that above all, I trust Him.

No one ever said that was a fun choice.

Sometimes the world smacks us in the face with that reminder….that reminder that we are strangers in a strange land, and that we can’t let ourselves get sucked into the mindgames and emotional traps that are laid for us: “Dear friends, you are foreigners and strangers on this earth. So I beg you not to surrender to those desires that fight against you“–I Pet. 2:11-12, CEV

Those “desires that fight against” us aren’t just people throwing lusts of the flesh in our face. They’re also the “quicksand” that we get trapped into, that make us question His motives and character, and our own faith. It’s cyclical thinking that kicks off our anxiety and leaves us an emotional basket case. I’m not immune to it, but I’d like to think I can spot the traps a bit easier now than I used to. Those first few years after Hannah passed away? Oooh, I got caught UP in some messes.

Quicksand – Stuff Rater
Actual photo of getting stuck in the quicksand of an emotional mind trap. 🙂

Grief and loss are pitfalls for so many of us…playing the “why?” game with God is a dangerous dead weight that only serves an enemy that wants to see us destroyed.

It’s a tender time of the year for us–for David as well as for myself, even when we seem like everything is fine. Our daughter is never far from our minds, but as her birthday approaches, memories come back, and I know I find myself looking at her pictures a bit more…remembering tiny hands, and beautiful, red-pink cheeks (like her Daddy), and how she’d snuggle in to the soft robe my mother had made me…how she smelled like Cheerios, and how to this day, I cherish every photo taken of family and friends because I know how much those pictures of her mean to me.

I’m finding myself ready to withdraw from social events, and from social media in general–whether it’s healthy or not, I never know, but I will tell you that I make no apologies. Maybe that sounds rude, but I’ve learned that if I don’t listen to these emotions, they’ll pop out at the most inopportune times, and I have no desire to have another flippin’ sobfest in the middle of a Hobby Lobby, so if I tell you I can’t make it, let me be. 🙂

I started writing a piece last night that I think I will leave unfinished; I feel like it makes a good conclusion, even though it’s not fully written, because “unfinished” feels like a pretty good way to describe how I’m feeling through all of this….

Hannah Elizabeth Gayle Cooley, 10/30/2006-11/28/2006

We’re Okay…Right? RIGHT?!?!?

/ Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

Anxiety will not win today.

Stress will not win today.

Fear will not win today.

I am okay. YOU are okay. We are O-frickin’-K, and we are going to get through this.

Deep breaths…

Look, y’all, today is one of “those” days. I think that every time the City of St. Louis or St. Louis County or whomever they’re putting a microphone in front of, says something, my anxiety levels rise. Today, they’ve expanded the Stay At Home order “indefinitely.” Apparently, they’re going to reevaluate it on May 4th, but until then, we’re under lockdown.

Now, I know that compared to other countries, we have it so easy. We truly do–I mean, c’mon. This is America, and we’re awesome (yeah, I said it. It’s a great country to live in, flaws and all). But my fellow Americans will argue over the color of the sky, and the litany of conspiracy theorists littering my Facebook feed is overwhelming and at the very least, irritating. People are acting like these orders are unconstitutional, when they exist for the purpose of keeping us alive. I’m looking at them kind of like a seatbelt: It’s a pain. It should be our choice, whether or not we want to do it. However, because we are by birth, stupid, we have to be told to do the smart thing in order to save lives.

To me, if we’re mad at anything about these orders, it should be that as a population we are so arrogant, so dumb, and so selfish, that it requires a frickin’ LAW in order for us to do the right thing. Don’t be mad at the lawmakers, protesters…be mad at yourselves. Be mad at the people that congregated in State Parks so they had to be shut down. Be mad at the people that didn’t take COVID-19 seriously from the very beginning. Be mad at the people that are STILL gathering in large crowds, because they’re going to cause a second wave of this stuff that’s gonna kill a whole bunch of innocent people.

STUPID PEOPLE ARE STRESSING ME OUT. Stop being arrogant idiots!!!!!!!

EVEN IF there’s some kind of conspiracy or Deep State or whatever, lurking beyond the surface of this ordeal, you can’t deny that yes, there’s a virus, and yes, people are dying. Gathering in groups to protest some kind of conspiracy does nothing but cause it to linger and revamp for a second round–why aren’t people getting it? Because their perception of freedom is more important than someone’s life? I just don’t get it.

So, protesters are stressing me out. Conspiracy theorists are stressing me out. Media announcements are stressing me out. Working from home is stressing me out. My husband’s unemployment is stressing me out. Homeschooling my kid is stressing me out, and believe me, it’s stressing him out, too. Eating at home every night is stressing me out. Cancer is stressing me out. If I keep on listing things, I’m going to get MORE STRESSED OUT, so I’d better stop.

Deep breaths.

Most days, I really am okay. It seems to me that the days that a major announcement happens, are the days where my anxiety levels peak, and I have to peel myself off of the ceiling (okay, Jesus does that. And sometimes, my husband does that. I think they’re working together.). This week, one of the biggest universities in the state announced they were furloughing their medical school staff. As a staff member in a specialty medical school, I thought we were considered “essential,” so that announcement came as a huge shock to me  (BTW, our designation as “essential” is still undefined, which is another point of stress for me). Last week, layoffs and furloughs were finally acknowledged as a part of the conversation; even though I know we’re not immune to these things, just the conversation alone was enough to raise my blood pressure. I’m not alone, and I know this–we are ALL under a certain amount of stress.

So, we’re a nation–a WORLD–that’s under a huge amount of oppression, depression, and anxiety right now. I’d imagine that spiritually, there’s like a pressing fog of fear that’s hovering over the entire planet. As Christians, we need to pray that the Light of Truth breaks through that fog, and that a blistering revival comes out of this heaviness…and personally, I need to hang onto that imagery to remember that Jesus’ Love will break through any oppression of fear, doubt, and anxiety. I don’t have to hang onto this stuff. I don’t have to feel like a cat that’s run into an electronic fence. 🙂 I can feel safe and loved, if I turn to Jesus, and on the days when He seems a million miles away, I can reach out and let someone know that “hey, I need prayer.”

That’s why we have churches, and friends, and companions. That’s why we have spouses, and parents, and siblings. We have a network we can reach out to, to ask for help or just to hear us out. It’s a gorgeous thing that God has given us, and I think we all need to be reminded of what a great resource relationships are, right now…especially since we can’t have face-to-face contact with people.

Hibernation can be so easy to fall into…it’s easy to be completely introverted, forgetting that as human beings, we NEED some kind of social interaction (even if we don’t think we do). We’re created to communicate…we’ve been created by THE Communicator Himself, and He imbued us with His  characteristics, in His image, so even though we may find ourselves wanting to hunker down and isolate, it’s against Who He is. We have to challenge ourselves (okay, I have to challenge MYSELF) to reach out, to pick up the phone, or to send that message. We need each other.

We can’t let the government, the virus, the conspiracy theorists, the fear-mongers, tell us otherwise. God created us with Love, to Love.  He is not the author of Fear.

SO I’m just going to repeat that to myself…for a long time. And I’m gonna call a friend, or talk to my husband, or have some kind of communication today that reminds me…that calls to Who God is, and to who He made me to be…and I’m going to take a lot of deep breaths.

And I’m going to be okay.

And so, dear reader, are you. ❤

Pat Francis on Twitter: "Fear can be powerful if you allow it to ...

 

Rescued…

/ Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

More than the coronavirus…

More than statistics, or reports, or fear, or uncertainty…

I’ve been in a dark place for the past 2 weeks, and even though I had more than one person tell me to get over myself, or that they knew I was struggling with fear more than reality, I just couldn’t get my chin up and out of the water.

My prayers have been sporadic and ADD. I can’t focus; my eating habits are out of control, and I find myself constantly looking for news, only to be completely unsatisfied and that I just keep wondering, “what’s next?” This sidewalk over raging water is unstable, and the constant tension is wreaking havoc on every cell of my being.

The truth is, a person can only take so much, right? And I’m coming into this with a pitcher that’s half-full and full of holes–I’ve been so tired, for so long, that it gets depressing, which in fact, just makes me more tired.

At the end of February, we were shell-shocked to find out that my thyroid cancer has returned; this means that just as corona-panic was beginning to sweep the nation, I was going back-&-forth to Mercy Hospital every day for about a week for shots and testing. I kept the number of people who knew pretty limited, because I honestly can’t deal with any negativity right now. I know this cancer doesn’t  kill people, but just knowing it’s there is somewhere between annoying-as-hell and frustrating-as-hell. I just got released for 3 years from Barnes hospital in January, and now, less than 2 months later, it’s back?!? Are you frickin’ KIDDING me?!?

And I tried to pretend that I was okay with it–that it didn’t bother me, and that telling my family was just a formality–and that’s complete garbage, because I was gutted. I hated telling my parents, my boss, my sisters….my husband. It’s not fair to them…they’ve had to carry me so many times–it’s just not fair.

So, I left my office on March 18th, thinking that I would take the 19th and the 20th off for Jericho’s spring break, and then I’d work half-days the week of March 23rd…but then came the news that I’d need to telecommute. Okay, sure–I’ll telecommute that week, and I’ll be back in the office as usual on March 30th, right?

Wrong.

I’m working from home, and will be most likely until the end of this month. I’ve always wondered what that would be like; it’s nice to see my kiddo in the morning. He comes into the office every morning and hugs me in his rumpled pajamas and tousled hair, proudly breathing on me because he knows I can’t stand morning breath. He crawls on my lap and rubs his eyes, and I savor the moments. I mean, I DID say that I wished I could be a stay-at-home mom, although this wasn’t quite how I saw it happening.

I miss my usual pace at the office–I do a lot of different things, so it’s been hard for me to adjust to doing one thing at a time, with one monitor at a time. I get really frustrated with technical issues, and my personal computer is not suited for my job, but I’m making it work! I’m learning how to Zoom and how to push through, and just how many webinars I can take and stay sane (Six Sigma!!!  I took a black-belt Six Sigma course, and passed the dang test!!!!).

When I’m not being productive, I tend to make bad decisions (primarily with eating–oooh, those Thursday weigh-ins are NOT GOOD) and I also tend to feel terrible about myself as a human being. I’ve recently taken up embroidery again, which is crazy, because all of  my patterns are from a little Ace Hardware I worked at back in 1999. They’re yellowed, but I can still make out the pattern; I’m remembering how to do the stitches from back when my Grandma taught me at 12 and 13 years of age.

I’m learning how to do my nails like a grown-up (dipping powder is awesome!) and I’ve really gotten into an at-home spa experience. I have a wax melter and every facial thing you can think of; most of the stuff I’ve had stocking up for years, and am just now learning how to use it.

David has been laid off from his position, so he has assumed homeschooling our son. I have to admit, it’s fun to listen to them…until Jericho gets frustrated and has a total meltdown. He has about as much patience as his parents, LOL, so we’re all learning how to take deep breaths and to to find better coping mechanisms. It’s a journey.  I spent my lunch break yesterday giving a Spanish lesson.

I don’t speak Spanish, y’all.

I don’t make enough money for the therapy this kid’s probably gonna need from my pathetic attempts to educate him.

So, all of this is to say that I probably would have been in the “mullygrubs” even without the added medical drama. I had a full-body scan at the end of March; the insurance companies demand that I go through the racket of doing a full-body scan before they’ll approve a PET scan, even though we know the full-body scan will be inconclusive. It was, so now we wait. My tumor markers are low–0.7–and we’re going to wait until I’m at 1.0 until we progress to the PET. It’s the usual hurry-up-and-wait crap that gets in my head and stresses me out (even when I won’t admit it, it shows). Add corona to this, the lack of income, the lack of school and the slow pace of my job, and it created a perfect storm for the Vortex of the Downward Spiral, and I couldn’t shake it.

I’m still not through it…I’m trying to surround myself with worship music and musicals, to remind myself to sing my way through this…Sunny days make it easier (that’s why I’m writing right now–the sun came out, the window is open, and I finally drug myself into a shower) and like I can process things a bit better.

Like everyone else in the world, I’m overwhelmed and I’m struggling to see the beauty in this mess.

But you know what?!?

Someone threw me a lifeline.

One of the young ladies that I work with texted me out of the blue (Emma! I’ve blogged about her before):
“Hey, do you wanna do a Social Distancing Photoshoot?”

Um–a reason to put on real clothes, and go outside, and see actual people?!

YES.

She sent me the pictures today, and I have to tell you, I don’t know why I reacted quite so powerfully to them, but I literally felt myself take a deep breath, and I got overwhelmed by GRATITUDE to God for giving me this amazing family who surrounds me with so many wonderful, hilarious, amazing moments that work together to form a pretty phenomenal life, even when the chips are down.

GOD IS GOOD.

And people are good.

Emma did a great job of catching “those” moments–you know, the genuine laugh, the squish-hug, the toothless grin of a first grader (click the link to see the proofs). She captured the joy of our family, and it was such a beautiful reminder that I am surrounded by the most beautiful of gifts, even when I get overwhelmed and bogged down in the dark places.

You never know when your act of kindness is someone else’s lifeline…when God speaks through you and opens doors to someone’s heart, letting His light shine through.

My dad really likes Lauren Daigle, and when I talked to him a few days ago, he’s like, “Yeah, I really like that ‘Rescue‘ song by that Lauren girl!” I’ve heard it, but I really listened to it today (thanks, Dad!):

“You are not hidden
There’s never been a moment
You were forgotten
You are not hopeless”

How many times do we let words like, “hopeless” rule our lives, even as we say we’re dedicated to the God Who gives the greatest of Hope? I fully understand that anxiety and depression–which go hand-in-hand with chronic fatigue issues and autoimmune issues–are real, chemical problems. They have a spiritual effect, and it gets hard to focus on Who I know Jesus Is when I’m so chemically messed up–it’s so hard. Having the motivation to take care of myself when I’m in these pits seems unreachable. There are a LOT of superlatives when physical syndromes throw up roadblocks every time you turn around, and it takes constant discipline to not get shut down and drowned by it all (click the song lyrics above for a list of Bible verses about being rescued).

Sometimes a simple act of kindness is all that it takes to lift someone up out of all of that.

I’m grateful.

I’m not forgotten.

I’m not hopeless, and He never lets me think that for very long….

He’s my Rescuer.

We’re going to get through this, all of it. We really are, and the world will look different on the other side of it. We take one step, and He takes it right along with us.  We can do this, and we’re going to do it.

Come Follow Me: New Perspective about Peter walking on water ...

Fear.

/ Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment
Fear.
Fear is heavy, like a suffocating blanket of pressure that you just can’t shake.
Fear locks you in your own head, making you see everything through its lenses, where everyone is on the attack and even the air you breathe is tainted with its taste…
Fear chains your motivation–
Fear tapes your mouth shut.
Fear stifles your song.
But for God…
God says, “Perfect Love casts out all fear,” and He doesn’t just “say” it…
He IS it.
Jesus breathes LIFE into those burnt out, suffocated places…
Jesus gives freedom, and the suffocating blanket of pressure?
It’s no match for the One Who tore the veil to the holiest of places…
It’s no match for the One Who gives us access to the very throne of God.
Jesus gives us motivation…
Jesus shakes those chains loose,
And He opens up our hearts so that the song He gives has
No
Choice
But to tear free from the places where fear tried to stifle it.
“Perfect Love” doesn’t just cast out fear…it annihilates it.
“Perfect Love” doesn’t make sense to a society that is currently embroiled in a panic, hoarding things like an ogre hoards trinkets, thinking they will save his soul.
“Perfect Love” gives us clear vision.
“Perfect Love” restores our hope…
When we feel overwhelmed…when the choices we have to make seem to choke us to death…when the clouds of fear threaten to block out the Light…
When I struggle with anxiety….
When the decisions are too heavy, & my heart is quaking…
“Perfect Love” is the embrace to my spirit that tells me He is still in control.
So I will rest in Him…
And be at
Peace.

Summer Goals, #PlayGloria, and Kindergarten Graduation

/ Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

I go through phases where I write constantly, and then it’s “crickets,” and honestly, I don’t really know why. Is it a self-discipline thing? An emotional thing?

Maybe it’s an energy thing, and I haven’t written anything lately because I’m perennially exhausted.

I’m still here, in case you were wondering (in case I’m wondering?).

The schedule’s returned to an unreachable pace, with David not only being back to work, but working a different shift. I’m so grateful that he’s employed, but I’m not going to lie and say it’s easy. We see each other for around 15-20 minutes per day (usually trying to have conversations that are perpetually interrupted by, “MOOOOMMMMM!” and “LOOOK AT MEEEEEEE!”), and then I’m off to bed, and he’s doing the evening entertainment for the offspring (who couldn’t be happier, because Tired Mom is also BORING Mom). Our marriage is breathing on the fumes of weekends, and our house is perpetually messy.

Our lives are full.

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Meanwhile, since my last post, my son has graduated from Kindergarten. In the ceremony, his class recited Scriptures, sang songs, and basically let us know they were going to join together at some point and take over the world. I believe every one of them could do it. Jericho’s classmates are a beautiful mixture of personalities, and I’ve loved getting to watch them interact over the year. My little guy has matured and learned, and is showing more and more of an amazing personality.

We have Summer Goals (and even as I write that sentence, I’m laughing at myself). None of those goals involve housekeeping, but I supposed it must be done. Frankly, our dog is so old (“how old is she?”) that we’re kind of waiting for her to cross that Rainbow Bridge and go to Jesus, because the carpet will need to be replaced throughout the house…and I’m hankering for a change in our color scheme, so the entire house will need to be overhauled and deep-cleaned. It’s times like this where I’m grateful that we’re still in our “starter home,” and it’s tiny.

I’ve started Jericho on a First Grade curriculum from Brain Quest, and every day, he does 2-4 pages in his workbook. My goal is to get him through the book this summer, just to keep him sharp and to work on his handwriting. He still gets “6,” “9,” “d,” “p,” “g,” and “3” backwards. I haven’t gone so far as to discuss it with my office’s peds department yet…I’m not hugely concerned, because he can correct it when I call him out on it. I’m planning on mentioning it in his eye exam next month.

That being said, get your child’s eyes examined every year! It’s a relatively painless examination that can help their future!!!!  PSA—and done.

ANYHOOO, a little thing happened this week that completely de-railed any attempts that I’ve made to finish this blog in a timely manner. THE SAINT LOUIS BLUES WON THE FREAKING STANLEY CUP, and I’ve cared about little-to-nothing else this week. Image may contain: 1 person, stripes

Since I’m given to panic attacks at the mere THOUGHT of ginormous crowds of people, I’m going to be watching the parade from my app. It’s going to be amazing, and I’m so proud of the team. I’m not a big sports person—I always mention that I don’t like baseball, but I consider myself a Cardinals fan, simply because I love what the camaraderie brings to the city. I do, however, like hockey, and even though I never watch the games (my family is not a “sports” family, but we’ll scream like maniacs at a cooking show), I think hockey requires the most skill and tenacity of any sport. I admire hockey players—anyone that sacrifices their teeth for anything, gets mad respect from me. Also, my youth pastor’s dad was the trainer for the San Jose Sharks back in the 90’s, so my love and appreciation for the game runs deep (I’m SO glad we beat them for the Nationals!).

Sports talk aside, things are moving along at a frantic pace…it’s hard to find time to slow down and EXPERIENCE things, as opposed to just getting through them. I’m usually doing the latter, and by the time a week’s gone by, I’m wondering where it went? Too many hours spent on the couch and not in the sunshine.  Being in a somewhat-constant state of fatigue makes me feel like I’m missing out on so much…oh, and the MOM GUILT!!!  I can’t.

I keep telling myself that I won’t be like this, forever…Jericho asked me the other day, “Mommy, were you ever not tired?” Ouch—that hurt. I basically told him I’ve been tired for the last 7 years. J I’ve been without my Dear Thyroid for 4 years this month, and all of my Facebook Memories that come up threaten to drag me into the Abyss of What-If, so I’m trying to ignore them.

I deal with a lot of “Mom Guilt,” partially because of my personality, and partially because there’s so much to work with.  I’m a working mom who had to use formula, so start there, and work your way up, mom-shamers.  My son is starting to get Six-Year-Old Sassy, and he’s watching too many episodes of “Teen Titans,” (hey, I didn’t start him on it…but they’re hilarious, so now I’m mom-guilting over a moral failure) and eating too many tortilla chips. Overall, though, he’s getting lots of playtime during the day in his summer program, so during the week I’m not feeling tooooooooo horrible about coming home and being chill.

I know this sounds mushy and all, but every day I look at that kid and I swear, I love him more. Even with his sass, he’s still funny and sweet, & he’s creative. His imagination is limitless, and he reminds me of my favorite parts of my own childhood. I need to get back into the routine of reading him a bedtime story; he’s been staying up later than I do, so I’m missing out!!

This summer, we have Six Flags passes, and are planning on going if the sun comes out any time soon on a weekend.  We’ve had so much rain! I love watching Jericho start to tentatively embrace roller coasters. He’s working on riding his new bike; he got a bit scared of it, so we have to ease him back into it. I don’t think I coddle him (David does), but I know so well what it’s like to be afraid of everything, and to feel like less of a person because of it. I don’t want that, for him. When he’s afraid of something, I tell him that it’s okay to be scared. We take it slow, until we’re ready. If he isn’t ready, I think that’s okay—he will be. I’m surprised at my own patience in those cases, but I think that’s what it takes. I want him to enjoy roller coasters and bike rides, and roller skates and bowling, and everything fun (we’re back to bowling again, BTW—I LOVE it!!!). If it’s fearful, it’s not fun, and I know that too well. We have nothing but time, to make those leaps—even if that’s not true, we can live like it is, at 6 years old.

bowlMy goals for this summer are to take it in…to enjoy parenting, and to not enjoy too much TV…to take my time doing life in general, and to spend less time embracing the things that bring me down. I love that song by Lauren Daigle, called “Look Up, Child.” Rico-Bean sings it a lot, and I think it’s major goals, for me. That’s my goal—to Look Up, and to keep from letting myself be weighed down by fatigue, or stress, or whatever albatross has decided to land on my neck. It’s summer—it’s time to get free, to live free, and to stay looking up.

And maybe, to spend some time blasting “Gloria!!!!!” on repeat while my son yells at me because he’s sick of the song….He’ll get over it, and we’ll have these memories to last us a lifetime. I’m so proud of our team. #LETSGOBLUES!!!!!!!!

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