19 years…

October 30, 2025 / Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

Happy birthday, Baby…

19 years is a long time; almost 2 decades.

Many people know your story…many people don’t…and part of life is learning who is safe to share these things with (and who isn’t). I’m more exclusive with who gets to hear about you, because that’s a privilege.

I looked at your dad last night & said, “Someday, it won’t hurt anymore….”

I don’t know if he heard me, but I keep thinking about that statement. I feel like it was more of God saying it to me than it was me saying it to your father.

Your brother asked about you the other day. He said he asked God if you were in Heaven when he was praying one night, & his History teacher inadvertently answered his question the next day. You’d be so proud of him—he’s so funny. He spoke his thoughts on the subject, & I shared mine. He also told me he didn’t think there were dogs in Heaven. Ma’am, I corrected him properly, because I KNOW you are playing with Holly “up” there!!!!

I shared that a day in God’s presence is as a thousand years on earth, & we’ve only been apart for 19 years. What is that for you? It aches for me, but you? You’re with Him.

I was speaking to a friend this morning & I mentioned that statement from last night along with, “We will be with so many people we miss…your mom, my grandma, etc. You know what we won’t be doing? We won’t be MISSING people…

Baby girl, I won’t miss missing you.

My heart explodes with that thought. What will it be like, to not have this missing piece in my heart anymore? To be whole, to be with you?

I honestly can’t imagine, but it absolutely brings such joy to my soul…I can’t help but to think how beautiful is the love of Jesus, to give us the gift of not only being in His presence & of being in & with His family, but the Gift of Reunion with each other! He gives us the gift of a completed puzzle, a completely restored wholeness without spot, wrinkle, crack, or break!

He gives us wholeness & He holds us…I’m so grateful.

Hannah-girl, I pass by the place you died every day now & in this season, I feel the ache. I also feel the longing & the hope for that reunion, & I’m encouraged to stay the course. Fall leaves point me towards grace that never ceases to pull the pieces back together until we see each other again & I am thankful for those that laid the foundation of faith I stand on…fall on…desperately cling to…

“I’ll run as fast as I can into Your arms
‘Cause I was created to be where You are”

Happy 19^th Birthday, Hannah Elizabeth Gayle Cooley…Your dad, your brother & I love you ferociously. You’re never far from my heart or mind, & I’m so thankful you are part of tapestry God is weaving in my life…

Forgiveness is Expensive…

September 28, 2025September 29, 2025 / Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

Matthew 18:21-35 is weighing on me lately.

I’ll be the first to admit, forgiveness doesn’t come easily to me. Anyone who says it’s a linear process is lying or had an easy life (or wasn’t raised by an Italian, LOL).

Just when I think I’ve finally hit a place where I can say I’m free of the anger I’ve held against someone who wronged me, I’ll hear a rumor or learn something new, and gosh-darn-it, there I am again, mad as a wet hen & ready to throw hands. I usually find myself gritting my teeth as I pray, “And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors,” as we see in Matthew 6.

I recently asked a friend of mine “do you think that’s supposed to be written that way? Is our forgiveness from Jesus contingent on how we forgive others, because if so, I am So Screwed.” She said she didn’t think so, because how impossible would that be?!?!? We’d never make it to Heaven. For all of our sakes, I hope that’s right.

When I left my last position in management, it wasn’t exactly by choice, but it was because of a mental health downward spiral of anxiety, anger, the bitterness of a former friend, & a complicated situation that became…well, I honestly think I can say it became abusive. A co-worker hurt me in a deep way, & I couldn’t separate the personal sabotage (some via self, some not) from my professional situation. I had to leave what I thought was my dream job, & it broke me in a way I hadn’t experienced before.

It was actually in retrospect, a deliverance (that’s a story for another time). However, one thing I continue to face is the ongoing struggle to forgive the person who broke my trust & put me in the position to need to resign. It’s at admittedly fewer frequencies now, almost a year later; but it’s still there. I’m finally at the point where I can pray for them & where I genuinely have compassion for them…but would I run them over if I had the chance? Possibly (just being honest. Not proud of it, but honest.)?

Do I laugh when I hear they’re having a hard time? Yes.

Do I laugh when other people they’ve done this to, say mean jokes? Yes.

I am NOT proud of this. I am struggling, & some days are easier than others. There are few people in my life that have hurt me/angered me that deeply, & I am limited in my experiences of having to forgive so much…

But then I am reminded of Matthew 18.

In Matthew 18, we learn about a man who had a massive debt to a king that he could never repay. The king ordered that his entire family be sold into slavery to repay the debt, & the man falls on his knees to beg for their forgiveness & freedom. He’s genuine, remorseful, and transparent in his desperation. The king is moved in his heart to forgive the man.

The man leaves the state of fear and imprisonment with undeniable freedom from his debt. He’s free! his family is free! The chains are gone! What does he do? Does he celebrate? Does he tell the world about the grace of the king who forgave him?

Nope.

He finds a friend who owes him like, $5, & gives him a beat down. He has his friend thrown in jail, & the servants in the king’s court find out about it. They go to the king and tell him what happened; the king is floored. He picks his jaw up off of the ground & calls his servants to drag the former debtor-turned-jerkface back before him. Although we have the cleaned up version of the text, I’d imagine it went something like this in the colloquial:

“ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!? ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!?! ARE YOU SERIOUS?!? DO YOU NOT SEE THE IRONY OF THIS SITUATION?!?!?! DO YOU HEAR THE WORDS THAT ARE COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH?!?!?!?!?!?!??

(Intonation is subjective, LOL.) The actual texts reads something like this:” ‘You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. ³³And should not you have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?’ ³⁴And in anger his master delivered him to the jailers,^[f] until he should pay all his debt.” (ESV)

There are a couple of interesting points to be made here:

The Obvious: The man was forgiven a HUGE debt–his family was even going to have to be sold into slavery to pay it back so this was a significant amount of money. He was going to lose everything he had. Have you ever been so far in debt that you knew there was no legal way out of it? Have you ever had to file for bankruptcy? It’s a devastating feeling of failure and shame–there’s nothing more gut-wrenching than to have to face your mistakes or the crumbling of your hopes & basically beg strangers to forgive you what you can’t pay back, knowing you could potentially lose the very roof over your head. It’s a horrible feeling, & this guy just had it all wiped away. He was free–more importantly, his FAMILY was free, & he had every reason in the world to celebrate in a huge way!
The Arrogance: He beat the holy crap out of the guy that owed him like, $5, and had him thrown into jail. He was insanely entitled, acting like he was too good for his own good, and refusing to extend a modicum of grace to whom he deemed unworthy.
The Comeuppance: The king’s flabbers were GASTED when he found out about the man’s actions to his “friend.” He couldn’t believe the man he had forgiven of so much, couldn’t do a fraction of the same to another human. He had him thrown in jail where he most likely rotted (who can pay anything back when they’re trapped in jail?!?) but do you know what it doesn’t say? It doesn’t say that the man’s FAMILY was thrown in jail. It doesn’t say the king took back their freedom, and we don’t know how they responded to the grace they had been given. I have to wonder what happened to them in this story. Did they recognize the gift that had been given to them? Did they share it with others? Did they realize what their husband/father had done? Do you think he ever truly repented for his entitlement? I have questions…and I have so, so much conviction.

God forgives us of our sins, freely…He died to pay the price for our sins, & He promises to let His Holy Spirit live within us to guide us to repentance. The Holy Spirit gives us discernment & acts as our moral compass in making the right choices. The Fruits of the Spirit (Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Faith, Gentleness, Self-Control, Galatians 5:23) are the things that we manifest in our lives when we’re walking closely to the Holy Spirit, and when we walk in forgiveness we get to see those things grow in a world that only wants to kill that harvest.

The world likes the fact that I wouldn’t be super angry if that former co-worker got hit by a bus. The world likes the fact that I have those thoughts & that I struggle to say, “God, forgive them as you have forgiven me. Help me forgive them as you have forgiven me. Forgive me while I wrestle with this, Lord–I am TRYING.” The world knows making jokes about their possible demise/termination/dive into a dumpster fire is way more fun than praying for them, right? But what does God say? He says to keep going on our journey to forgiveness.

Don’t beat up the person over $5 when you’ve been delivered out of spiritual bankruptcy.

I refuse to give up my inheritance in eternity over holding a grudge the size of a Value Meal.

This is difficult, friends. Some days are easier than others–again, it’s NOT linear, & it comes in waves. On Sunday, after I’ve sat in church & felt like I’m surrounded by like-minded people who worship the same God and have the same goals to “love Jesus & love people?” It’s so easy to say I forgive!!!!

On Friday, when the work week is long & I’m tired and frustrated? I’m just as likely to laugh at the thought of a tree falling on that person.

Forgiveness requires a constant discipline and focus on getting spiritually refueled and reminded of what we’re here for. We have been forgiven of so, so much—the Son of God died for us, to wipe away our sins & to love us for all eternity. What are these earthly offenses in the eyes of such love? What right do we have to hang on to them?!? What does it take, to remember what it cost Him to forgive us, verses what it costs us to forgive them? Our forgiveness cost Jesus EVERYTHING.

He says we are WORTH IT ALL.

To extend anything less than that to our fellow humans is to slap Him in the face and to say we’re better than His sacrifice.

OUCH.

Forgiveness requires support. This world is so crazy and anti-forgiveness, that I truly believe it requires us to be in a community of like-minded believers in Jesus to have the support that we need to forgive those that have hurt us. There’s far more people in this world that say “burn them down,” than say, “let it go.” When you offer to forgive someone, you often find yourself on the other end of someone else’s ire because they can’t see how you could possibly forgive that person for what they did. It’s because you know you’re not alone. You have the love of Jesus, and you have a group of believers you can take it to that will lift you up in prayer and walk with you through the process. You’re not extending an olive branch from a desert.

Forgiveness requires accountability. When you’re harboring anger or hurt against someone and you have those like-minded believers, they are responsible to lovingly hold you accountable. You’re responsible to admit that you’re struggling. You can’t have freedom in Jesus when you’re chained up in unforgiveness–you have to lay it down before Him. We don’t always see that ourselves. Sometimes it takes someone who loves us well enough to say, “Hey–I see you. You know what you’re doing isn’t right. Lay down your $5 anger and let Jesus wash you in His priceless forgiveness and freedom.” The person that loves you enough to hold you accountable like that, in love? What a gift they are in your life!! They love you too much to leave you in your debtor’s prison!!!

Far too often, we try to hold our brother or sister accountable & they respond in anger (the converse is also true). We live in a society that doesn’t value listening or critical thinking. Instead of hearing, “I love you enough to say this needs to be fixed,” we hear, “Well, you’re just wrong and you need to get over yourself.” I’m not going to say that it’s sometimes said that way–it is and I would know–but we’re generally not very good at accepting correction and/or accountability. We’d rather talk about all of the ways we’re right and how we were wronged, than to be humble & say, “You’re right. I’m harboring unforgiveness.”

I know I don’t like to hear it when I’m on the receiving end…and truthfully, I really don’t like to be on the telling end, because I know who I am and that I have NO ROOM to talk. How can I tell someone they need to extend forgiveness when I just joked about someone getting hit by a bus?!?!? I’m on the same struggle…but maybe that makes me even more accountable to have that hard conversation.

I’ve been in situations where I’ve tried to lovingly tell someone they needed to forgive, even when I didn’t have the whole story. It wasn’t received well; I was personally attacked, & it changed our relationship in ways I still grieve. It impacted my authenticity with them; however, it also drove me closer to God & to finding a body of believers I have consistent communion with in one way or another. I learned I can’t take that big of a leap without support. It’s really hard to have accountability when your village is 2-3 people. It tends to become a hive-mind situation rather than an iron-sharpening-iron situation that you get in a group, & it was a big lesson to me.

Forgiveness & accountability can cost you relationships & push you to walk in communities you were not expecting & didn’t know you needed. It can isolate you from the ones you thought had your back but it can also free you from the paralyzing constraints of feeling like you have to agree with everyone. When your circle of community is so small, you often feel like you have to agree in order to have peace. The goal isn’t peace (peace is a byproduct, a fruit); rather, the goal is GROWTH and without forgiveness? You’re dead in a cell somewhere.

Forgiveness is freedom and freedom is what fuels gratitude…gratitude begets love and love? Love makes all of the hard stuff worth it and then some. When we’re no longer chained down to what keeps us in a dungeon, we’re able to move upwards, to lift each other and to be propelled by the Holy Spirit. We have no strings tying us to worldly thoughts & prisons! There’s a translation of The Lord’s Prayer from Aramaic that I found so interesting: “And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors ” refers to “releasing the tangled threads that bind us,” to let go of our seen and secret sins, as we forgive others of their seen and secret sins. I thought that was fascinating–I’ve been sewing more lately, & nothing is more frustrating than when the thread gets tangled and I have to undo everything I’ve just done. When you think about those threads being released, you get a visceral sense of the exhale you release when you’re done sorting it all out–that’s an image I’d never tied into the Lord’s Prayer before. Yet if you don’t untangle those threads and you try to keep sewing? You end up with a useless mess (& a lot of swearing, at least for me).

I guess if this post is to say anything, it’s to say that we have to #1, be in a community of other believers. I fight for it–I’ve seen the very best of how a Church can function (a body, not a building) & I know that community is how our relationship with God survives in this crazy world. #2, we need to hold each other accountable in the areas of forgiveness in particular, because these grudges and hurts we carry are keeping us spiritually imprisoned. Eventually, they’ll kill off the fruits of the Spirit in our lives & our walk with Jesus will go stagnant and moldy. And #3, we need to discipline ourselves to forgive wholeheartedly, even if it’s not a linear process. My Mama often reminds me to “Say it til’ you mean it.” I’m there–Every day when I pray for my own forgiveness, I pray that I will also forgive those that have sinned against me. I name them. I know the day will come when my compassion will be stirred to be bigger than my hurt, and I will be free of the anger that flares up when I hear their name. I’ll get there–I’m close (and then most likely, someone else will make The List).

There are BIG OFFENSES that we carry–people that hurt us, people that hurt our family, people that smeared our reputation or people who attacked us. We may even have encountered people that did or said terrible, murderous things….but We Have A Choice. We choose how big their impact will have on our spiritual life. Will we let them eclipse the freedom we have been given, the forgiveness Jesus has bestowed on us? Will we let them steal even more from us and take our joy? To keep us in chains?

Or will we lay them down, minute-by-minute, day-by-day, as often as the Holy Spirit brings the person before our thoughts, until our lip no longer curls up when we hear their name or think about what they did to us? Will we share our hurts with our community of believers and accept their support as we climb up out of our dungeons? Will we take the hand of accountability when it’s offered, to grow and become more & more like Jesus? Will we choose to love those who tried to break us, like He loves us in spite of how our sins broke Him? It doesn’t mean we become a doormat and welcome them back in to abuse us, but it DOES mean we take away their power to hold our thoughts and emotions captive. When we hear their name, we hear it how Jesus says it. When we say their name, we say it how Jesus says it, with the hope that they will hear His tender call to Him…when we give these things over to Him, He gives us His heart for those that have hurt us, His compassion and His mercy. He restores and renews all of the imprisoned places in us that have become gangrenous….He gives us new life in ways no one can ever take back.

When we choose to forgive, whatever it costs us in this world, will never be worth what we gain in the next. His love and His grace pour out freely on us, even as we struggle to share it with others…yet He gives it in abundance. He frees us, and He gives us what we need to walk out of the prisons of anger and resentment into His amazing grace…

I have a long way to go…but I’m GOING…and I hope we can all go into new areas of forgiveness, together. ❤

“Phenomenal cosmic powers! (Itttttty Bitty Living Space)!!”

July 10, 2025 / Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

I was listening to a theologian today who said something like, “God is not a genie. What kind of power would He truly have if He were nothing more than a slave to our desires?” That’s a loose paraphrase from Brenna Blain, as she was interviewed by Lecrae on his podcast, “The Deep End.” Of course, this sent me down a rabbit hole…

I mean, what would it be like, if God was some kind of mystical genie? It makes me think of when I studied apologetics in high school & college, learning the various world views and a biblical response. Seeing the all-powerful, omniscient Being we know as the Creator of All reduced to a mystical vending machine for mankind–how sad is that? How dull & boring? And how difficult would that be for those of us who have experienced hardship or suffering–we didn’t get what we wanted from the Magical Mystical Vending Machine, so we must be hated by the heavens…

Sounds crazy, right?

But is it?

So many people live with resentment towards God because they didn’t get what they wanted…they prayed, they desired, they waited, fasted, prayed some more, but they didn’t. Get. What. They. Asked. For…So many people have been fed the lies of, “you have what you say,” or they laser-focus in on, “you have not because you ask not.” We live with mindsets that “bad” things that happen in our lives are a direct result of our own sin, & by consequence, if we could only be holy enough we’d be free of those things. We look at others; we see their beautiful homes or perfect families, & we think, “God loves them more because have you seen the thread count on their sheets?!?!”

We treat God like He is dependent on us & our requests or comfort, instead of being wholly dependent on Him…

We look at the things around us, in front of us, online, etc., as indicators of His love or grace and as reflections of our own unworthiness or intellect.

We grow increasingly resentful of those who have it “easier” by our perceptions, & at some point, we rage at God because our lives don’t look like theirs…and we sit in judgment of God Himself.

I say “we” because I do this, myself. I try not to, but there are times when I will unplug from social media because the vacations I see families going on, hurt. The houses I see people living in, hurt. My jealousy is a real issue, & it’s taken years to get to a point where I recognize it as it seeps in. I have to discipline myself to physically back away from the things that expose me to it. It’s almost addicting–I like the catty comments and snobby zings I say to myself when I see someone post something I’d like to have/eat/do/drive. I like the snarky inner-Mean Girl that comes out when I’m being Petty Betty on the phone with a certain friend. I’m sarcastic & shady, & it’s funny…but is it Godly? Um….nope. It’s not just the jealousy that’s ungodly…it’s the fact that at it’s best, this jealousy is unwarranted. At it’s worst, it makes me look at God & ask Him why am I not good enough for THAT kind of lifestyle? For that kind of blessing?!?

I get focused on and jealous of the wrong things, & in doing so, I put God in the box of being a Magical, Mystical Vending Machine…

Y’all know my story–I’ve been through some stuff, & there are times when I have wrestled with the “why” to the point that I have a perpetually broken hip. I came to a point when I realized there were no guarantees that we will have any kind of understanding on this side of Heaven. It’s humanism–it’s a sense of entitlement, to think that we have to have all of the answers behind what happens, or that we deserve to know. A friend of mine said the other day that “if we had understanding, we wouldn’t need faith.”

WOW.

When we have understanding of things, we rationalize; we predict. We figure out how we can do it ourselves, & we write God out of the equation–we say in so many words, “what do we need You for? We got this.” We depend on ourselves for solutions & provisions instead of running full-throttle into His arms. When we don’t find those solutions? When we don’t get what we want? Instead of blaming ourselves for losing focus on Him, we put BLAME on Him…

I hear people criticize Christianity with statements like, “if God is real, why do bad things happen to good people?” We want an answer–I mean, let’s be real, I want an answer to that question. People die–children die, people get sick, pets die–we live in a broken world that is physically & spiritually cancerous, filled with toxicity & generations-upon-generations of darkness. We expect to have human, physical bodies that get 100% Divine Protection because we’re covered under the Blood of Jesus, but that’s not written anywhere. We’re spiritually Children of God, but for now, we still live in this physical world. That has consequences (BTW, the AI response to, “Does God Protect Us from Sickness? is fascinating) even if we live as cleanly as possible. We’re only promised a life free of sickness and death in Heaven (Revelations 21:4).

I know I’ve written about this before, but I really feel like this year, God is reiterating that this world is not the place to get comfortable (I almost got really transparent here about what I’d rather be doing that is comfortable but I didn’t want to get clocked, LOL). This world is ill…it’s a poison that we’ve all taken in, and the longer we’re here, the more we’re comfortable drinking it up. The endless journey we’re on to “look here,” or “look here” leads us to a life that’s jealous, empty and unsatisfied. We keep drinking but we’re never full until we meet the Living Water of Jesus…and when we sober up, we see how many people are still around us, drunk off of ego, envy and hollow goals.

I was raised with a certain kind of prosperity gospel, & when it didn’t work out for me, I almost lost my faith. I certainly lost the belief that Jesus loved me; in fact, listening to Francis Chan talk about his own struggles with radically accepting the love of God validated that this is a common battle for many of us. We think getting our answers is evidence that God loves us. We treat God like we have a transactional faith, where we do this, & He does that. We figure out the Magic Words or the Magic Action, and presto! He gives us a solution! We press the, “explain Yourself” button on the Magical, Mystical Vending Machine & we reject the Love of God when we don’t hear or get an answer…

He’s not a slave to our questions.

He’s not a genie to grant our wishes.

God is predictable only in that He has Love for us…but not in how He shows His Love.

When we alter the focus of our lives to seek His ways, to seek His desire for our lives, everything else gets blurry–all of the “stuff;” all of the vacations; all of the answers we think we “have” to have–it all fades away into the background, & it’s replaced with a faith in solidly knowing that His ways are Good. It’s replaced with a genuine trust in Him, and a genuine denial of our entitlement to any answer other than “Jesus.”

My God is not a slave, and though we think in our society that worshipping an unseen Deity confines us to some sort of guilt-ridden servitude, I’d counter with the fact that my worship of Jesus as a loving Savior frees me to a life filled with awe…

I’m a broken human being, deeply flawed & fully dependent on the redeeming love of God. I make mistakes; I say dumb things; I get aggravated; I hold grudges, and yes, as aforementioned, I get jealous with a capital “J” like a Jonas Brother. I’m a work in progress (& that’s not an excuse for when I fail). It’s a beautiful thing, knowing there is forgiveness and mercy in Jesus & that He loves us so much that His Holy Spirit leads us to true repentence…to hearing that conviction–not condemnation–that urges us to seek His grace. He guides us to making real changes to become more like Him, even as we swim upstream in a world that wants drown us into homogeny.

We aren’t serving a Magical, Mystical Vending Machine.

We are worshipping the Shepherd…the Lion…the Savior…the Counselor…the Provider…the Father…the Creator…the Lord….

And He loves us, wholeheartedly.

“You Are Loved.”

March 31, 2025March 31, 2025 / Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

I woke up this morning to this note on the bathroom sink:

“Hey, Mom, Jericho here. Just wanted you to know, take care of yourself and that you are loved. Love, Jericho.”

This note has now been permanently scanned into my online drive and tacked to the corkboard in my office where it shall remain in perpetuity.

This note may wind up eventually tattooed somewhere that remains to be seen.

This note both undoes me & revives me simultaneously, in the best & worst ways…

My son was 2 years old when I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. Thyroid cancer is the “good kind” of cancer, they say–it’s the kind where they remove the issue, supplement you with Thyroid Replacement Hormones, and send you on your merry way. Those that know me well, know this has not been my journey; I’ve had clinically-detectable thyroid cancer for almost 10 years now. “Clinically detectable” means that it’s still there (“residual activity in thyroid bed”), but not in so many levels that they can go in and physically remove it. I liken it to having a time-bomb in your neck, just waiting for it to either die or explode. It can be a mental process, for lack of a better word, to ignore it. On the plus side, thyroid cancer is notoriously slowwwwww, so although my tumor markers have gone up-&-down over the years, I’ve never gone so high that I’ve had to have a second surgery (there are plenty of times where I’ve begged them to just take out the remaining lymph nodes in my neck so that there wouldn’t be anywhere else for those booger cells to hide!!!).

It’s not uncommon for me to say the removal of my thyroid ruined my life. Getting my medicine titrated correctly has been a process, especially with the weight loss; the initial determination to figure out what medicine would work for me, darn near killed me. The thought is to keep my TSH levels so suppressed, that it makes an unfriendly environment for the tumor markers, & they’ll eventually, hopefully, just DIE (can we get on with it already?!?) Issues with diabetes, sleep apnea, & my legs/feet have been ongoing since my thyroid was removed…but the worst thing that’s happened since my thyroidectomy has been, hands down, the FATIGUE.

This is not like, “ohmygosh, I’m TIRED.” This is not like, “I’ve been up all night with a crying baby & now I have to go to work,” tired. This is not even like, “it’s finals’ week & I have 4 papers, 3 tests, and a volcano to make,” tired. This is literally like some evil being sneaks up behind you, cuts off your ankles & throws a lead cloak over you as you fall to the ground, dead in the water, can’t move/think/function, TIRED, & it hits out of nowhere. I usually say, “oh, look, someone’s unplugged me,” & down I go…

I’m truckin’ along yesterday, got home from church, started working on the laundry (I normally do this on Saturday, but we went to an art show on Saturday, so please don’t judge me for doing chores on a Sunday), hung up a few things in the sunroom, & stopped to admire my work….BOOM. I’m on the couch. “Just give me a few minutes.”

My son brought me a blanket & a pillow. David made some dinner. I laid there & took my few minutes. They both know how this goes–they know once it hits, I’m dead weight. I think they hate it as much as I do, because it’s not a good look to see your mom/wife deflate like a sad balloon.

It affects them as well, & I truly hate that.

I hate that I’ve had to cancel plans, or that I have to be so strict about weeknight activities (I can’t really do them, or there’s hell to pay the next day). I don’t like going to bed at 8:00pm. I have to stay disciplined about what I commit to, because there’s just no gas in the tank & I need to stay employed. Now that I’m back in an office full-time, I have to prioritize how much I do in my non-working hours, because otherwise, things get skewed. I have to be selfish with my time & protect it in ways I’ve never really committed to, before.

I now know that when I don’t establish & protect boundaries related to how I spend my time & energy, that fatigue leads to major issues—brain fog, sickness, impulse-control problems. My mental health swiftly declines, & I wind up in crisis mode, along with my family. It’s not just about my health–it’s about theirs, too–which is fuel for the need to protect myself and them. After what I went through last year, I realized that I had my priorities out-of-whack & I am grateful for the learning experience, even though it was painful. I will fiercely protect what I’ve learned, & I am trying to do what I need to so that I don’t have to repeat the process.

My son hasn’t had the experience of knowing me pre-thyroidectomy, & there’s a certain sadness that comes with that. He’s seen the fallout–the mental & physical struggle–& he’s learned compassion. Understanding is hard for him–he’s an only child, & he gets all of the attention & assistance he needs, so he doesn’t have a true understanding of what it’s like to have to figure things out on his own–but he’s learning sympathy (& that note just UNDID me–what a sweet kid he is!!!!!!!!!). My husband has been along for one heck of a ride; half of our marriage has been taken over in many ways by the collateral damage my thyroid cancer has caused. I’m not on this journey alone, & he’s been by my side. Our little household has rallied around me. It’s messier than I’d like for it to be, but it’s so full of love–that note from my son this morning was a huge, gigantic hug that reminded me that even when Monday morning slaps me in the face, I’m coming back home to people that love me, & it makes it all worth it.

I feel like a burden to my household, but I know that’s the enemy talking. God reminds me that I am loved, that I’m His, & that the sun is continuing to rise. He reminds me there is tremendous peace & hope with Him, & that He is using this journey to teach me new ways of relying on Him. He reminds me to hold onto my gratitude, & not to let the enemy twist my focus onto the things that frustrate me–that’s a waste of my energy, & that’s too precious to lose on something like that. Gratitude revives our spirits–it ‘s like in Monsters, Inc., where they find out that laughter is a better fuel than screaming.

We really get much farther in thinking about what we’re grateful for, than in what’s weighing us down.

In my last blog, I mentioned a few things that I’ve struggled with in the last 6 months or so, mostly related to some bitterness associated with a former friend. My therapist this week encouraged me to begin to focus on gratitude, & while I at first felt like I was being shamed for grieving all of the losses & relationship issues, I then realized she was correct: It is time to begin a season of gratitude. I am thankful for a great many things that had to do with that former friend. She led me to a time of employment that made a huge impact on my career & my self-esteem. Without that season, I wouldn’t have developed my personal mission statement. Without that season, I wouldn’t have befriended Jen, Jacque, & Stephen, three people who have changed my life. Without that season, I wouldn’t have been exposed to such a beautiful, diverse culture that I was privileged to be around in that place of employment.

Without that season & without those relationships, I wouldn’t have realized that I am worthy of so much–I am worthy of boundaries. I am worthy of standing up for myself. I am worthy, through Christ, of being fought for. That former friend led me to those three friends, who gave me the gift of solidarity. They teach me every day, along with my other friends, along with my husband and my son, that I Am Not Alone, & that life is GOOD, even when it’s hard.

When I am out of gas, when I can’t lift my head, I have a team of family & friends who point me to gratitude & that takes me to Jesus…and we can make it one more trip around the sun.

We got this.

He’s got me.

And I. Am. Loved.

Restoration in the Face of Deconstruction

August 1, 2022 / Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

I’ve probably started to write 15 blogs about the concept of Deconstruction. It’s a pervasive, sneaky, deceptive line of philosophy that breaks down Christianity into four words: “Hath God Not Said?” If you remember who spoke those four words, you’ll understand where I’m going with this. “Hath God Not Said?” in the King James vernacular, are the four words Satan, disguised as the Snake, said to Eve in the Garden of Eden just before she made her eternally-impacting bite of the forbidden fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good & Evil. With those four words, Eve decided she needed to know more than the Lord wanted her to know. She decided that her thirst for knowledge was more important than the spiritual consequences, and so began the downfall of humanity (please note that I am in no way, shape, or form blaming Eve for the Fall of Man. I believe Adam & Eve hold the responsibility evenly & that humanity has used Eve’s arrogance to subjugate and discriminate against women since that singular moment, but that’s another blog. 🙂 ).

So, Deconstruction began in the very infancy of earth…Satan came in, made Eve question the truth she’d known since Creation, & that line of “wait a minute, is THAT what God said? Is THAT what He intended?!?” has been used & abused ever since…it’s nothing new.

In 2020, I started studying the Torah with a small group of people–my home church at the time–and as the pandemic began, we took a pretty deep dive. It was fascinating; I found myself going back to the Garden & the original plan God had for His people. As we studied things in the original Hebrew, I really found myself getting more & more frustrated at the differences between the Hebrew intentions & the English translations. This wasn’t anything new to me, but it was the first time I REALLY took a deep dive, & it came with some very frustrating side effects. I’m still struggling with some things. I’m struggling with how God laid out His word very clearly, yet His people even in those early days started off on such a wrong foot. The precedent that was set even by patriarchs such as Abraham, Moses, Isaac–these are deeply flawed people who were responsible for creating the foundations of the children of God–how do we reconcile this? How do we trust a murderer to accurately transcribe the words of God? How do we trust a man who openly deceived kings, to raise up an anointed people?

And then I REALLY got into my head about language, which has always been a struggle for me, even in the New Testament. There are Hebrew words that we CAN’T translate into English–we don’t have the words for it–and there are words the translators were actively influenced into mistranslating by those that funded the work (the King James Version is a great example, particularly in regards to baptism).

I’m still struggling with these issues. If I had the time to do the deep dive into Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek, I’d like to say that I would; in all honesty, I’m probably too lazy to do the work myself. I know that’s kind of pathetic to admit. Do I still believe the Bible is the word of God. Yes, I do. Do I believe that our English translation has some work to do? Absolutely…but for now, it’s the best we have. Am I willing to bank my salvation, my lifestyle, and my eternity on “the best we have?”

Yes, I am.

I have almost 37 years of reading/studying/singing this Book under my belt (sometimes barely, sometimes voraciously), & it’s never steered me wrong. It’s always drawn me closer to a God Who understands and welcomes my questions. There are things I do NOT understand (imprecatory Psalms? Those seem harsh…although I understand the sentiments, particularly when I am stuck in traffic.:) ), & I firmly believe that’s okay. Where we do not understand, we trust. That’s faith.

That’s a hard lesson I learned a long time ago. I’m reminded of it a LOT as I go through this journey of processing issues with translations.

Most of the time, when I compare the Hebrew information I’m given (my husband is really, really great about studying this stuff beyond what I can begin to process) I get aggravated as to why it’s not broken down more accurately in the English version. It always, ALWAYS puts a new light on the very character of God & His intentions for His people. In fact, the more you look at the Hebrew words in the Old Testament, the more you get the picture of a loving God Who wants a people that are truly set apart & dedicated to His goodness. Most of us that are raised in the church see an Old Testament God Who has His finger on the “smite” button…but it’s not the case, so in reviewing the original languages of the Old Testament, it causes you to realize just how much He truly adores His kids!

This disconnect with the Old Testament–seeing it as the book of the Smite-Happy God–verses the Jesus-Died-For-Our-Sins happy-lovey God of the New Testament–has created this whole, “well, the OT is all of the rules and harshness, but the NT FREES us to do whatever we want!” kind of mentality. It’s not the truth.

The New Testament is the restoration of the separation caused in the beginning of the Old Testament–The sin we started with, the gap between us & the very throne of God, is erased and reconciled with Jesus’ sacrifice in the Gospels. It’s a beautiful, circular coming to salvation that God planned thousands of years ago.

Yesterday during worship, “restoration” was a word I couldn’t get away from. There are times where we feel so stripped down; I’ve really struggled lately with feelings of worthlessness & of being ignored, gaslit, & dismissed. It’s actually a lifelong issue. I guess I’m finally able to put words to the feeling, and in doing so, am finally able to identify and process how to get through it (maybe). I think when we talk about restoration, we look at physical and material things. Have you ever thought about it in regards to our mental and spiritual health?

What would life look like if we were mentally and spiritually restored and refreshed?

We sang the song, “Homecoming” by Cory Asbury, & it hit me like a brick in the head. What does it mean, to be restored?!? Is it a restoration of mental health? Peace…feeling acknowledged and valued…feeling like I matter? Is it a restoration of family? What would it be like, to hold hands with both of my kids? What would it be like, to see my Grandma again? To feel her kiss my cheek or call me “spider monkey?”

What will it feel like, to be whole?

We’re going to know–we’re GOING TO KNOW. We have that promise. Amos 9:14 says, “and I will bring my people Israel back from exile. ‘They will rebuild the ruined cities & live in them. They will plant vineyards & drink their wine; they will make gardens & eat their fruit’.” The Bible is full of verses about restoration.

Do you know how deconstruction ties in here?

Deconstruction seeks to actively undermine the authority of Scripture and in doing so, it steals every promise in the Word.

I don’t want to live like that.

Deconstruction puts the intellectualization of the Bible above the spiritual intention of the written love letter we have from Jesus.

I don’t want to live like that.

Deconstruction steals the restoration of what this world steals from us, and replaces it with the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil.

I know what’s good. I know what’s evil.

And I choose the restoration that Love gives.

I choose the promise of our Homecoming.

I choose the promise of Jesus.

And when I don’t understand, I seek clarity. When I don’t get clarity, I seek peace. And when peace is evasive, I still trust in Him, because through it all, His Spirit still loves without fail.

Deconstruction will only serve to decimate the spiritual, but restoration will heal your soul & deliver the promises of eternal life…so that’s what I pick. I hope you do, too.

“Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes–Turn & Face the Strange”

September 28, 2021September 28, 2021 / Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

I haven’t blogged since the end of July!! Having COVID really, truly rerouted me. I’m not sure how I can even begin to sum up the last 2 months, so the words of David Bowie come to mind:

“Strange fascinations fascinate me
Ah, changes are taking
The pace I’m goin’ through

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
Turn and face the strange
Ch-ch-changes
Ooh, look out, you rock ‘n’ rollers
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
Turn and face the strange
Ch-ch-changes
Pretty soon now you’re gonna get older”

And older, I am…There are definitely times where I feel every bit of the 43 years under my skin, but I think having a third grader keeps David & I feeling somewhat spry (at least, that’s what they tell us). Jericho started the third grade in mid-August, & thanks to some of the tutoring we did over the summer, it seems to be going well. If only he could stop talking out of turn–so many ideas, so many words, so little time!!! It’s the story of my life. I deeply empathize with my kiddo, but that doesn’t mean he gets out of the consequences of pulling cards when he misbehaves at school, even if they’re related to his “excess verbiage,” as one teacher told me when I was a kid. He had two–TWO–face plants/head smacks in a 2-week time that nearly sent us to Urgent Care (if only one was available without a two-hour wait, under our insurance plan). My mom patched up one, and I patched up the other. He’ll have some cool scars, but other than that, he’s fine. He started Ki-Do Defense Systems, and it’s exciting to see a third-generation martial artist come out of our family!

David continues to do well with his job; the only drawback is the hours, so I am praying that he gets a slightly-earlier shift. I’m very proud of him! I’m also very thankful to the Lord–David landed that job in the middle of the pandemic, and it has been a huge blessing.

Speaking of jobs….deep breath….after 10+ years, I have resigned my position with the University of Missouri–St. Louis, and have taken a position at another University in our area. For the first time in over twenty years (21!!!!!), I will not be working in healthcare. It’s a realization that is staring me in the face, & I’m in a bit of shock over the decision. If God would not have so clearly opened so many doors, this would not be happening. Leaving the security blanket of a good job, good benefits, mostly-nice people, etc., is a big, scary, Nestea-plunge into unchartered waters!!!!!

But it’s time.

I think I’ve grown hermit-ish. I think I’ve grown comfortable, like a fat cat lounging in a windowsill. I felt the Lord ask me last year, “are you tired of being comfortable? Are you ready to make a change? Or do you just want to stay with the familiar?”

At the time, I said, “I’ve been here this long. Let me stay. It’s easy–I’m in my comfort zone. I can deal with the one-or-two people that make things difficult. I can do this.” And then the pandemic hit.

I realized that I didn’t want to do this anymore. I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but I knew that it wasn’t this–it wasn’t any major blow-up kind of thing. I just missed my family.

I’ve missed almost every morning of school. I’ve missed almost every bedtime. I’ve missed conversations with my husband, and I missed walking the dang dog. I’ve missed countless plans or evening meet-ups; I’ve missed relationships because I’ve had to be in bed by 8:00am. I’ve missed people.

When I missed the entire month of July because of COVID & found myself deeply, deeply struggling with anxiety, anger, bitterness & even resentment, I found myself face-down with the Lord, wondering what in the world needed to happen? I’d been looking at other positions, but nothing seemed to fit; when this position opened up, I didn’t think I had a chance (much like I felt when my UMSL job opened up), but to my surprise, they picked me! Then began the process of leaving, and it’s a difficult process, indeed.

There are so many things I’d like to say, but I think I will leave it at this: I am thankful. I am so grateful for the time I’ve had here; for the experiences & the opportunities; and mostly, for the schools I’ve been able to work with, with our Mobile Eye Van project (please-oh-please, click the link!). I’m thankful for those I’ve met along the way, & for those that took the time to teach me the importance of what they do at the Center for Eye Care offices. I’m thankful for the communities I’ve been able to connect with, and for every single school nurse that shared a laugh in one of the many meetings in which I awkwardly tried to convey the importance of optometric care (“If you can’t see, you can’t read, and if you can’t read, you can’t succeed!” Trademark pending!!!!). I’m thankful for the other vision service providers who tirelessly drive their RVs up-&-down the streets of St. Louis to care for kids and even adults and senior citizens. I’m thankful for the staff that have come together to provide patients with the best care manageable, and for the doctors and students who work seamlessly to diagnose, to treat, and to educate patients in a way that makes sense. It’s been a privilege to be a part of this team.

I know that it’s time to move forward towards new things, new people, & new adventures. I know God is delivering me from anxiety (it’s not “my” anxiety anymore. It’s His.) & that He is with me on this journey…If I fall, He’s there. If I fly, He’s there. If I stay grounded, if I get it right, if I screw it up–He’s there. What do I have to fear? I’ve found myself singing a song that a friend wrote several years ago; the whole album was my go-to during my pregnancy with Jericho, & I’m listening to it daily as I make this new transition. The song (“Jacob,” by Bizzy Grapperhaus) has the line, “there’s one way out of the wilderness…leaning on my Beloved.” I’ve been holding onto it like a childhood teddy bear, a security blanket of sorts. I need a constant reminder that He’s got a plan, and the closer I get to Him, the more peace I have. When the fear or anxiety threatens, I lean in harder. He always calms the storm.

My biggest hope as I leave this institution is that people knew/know that my faith has been more important to me than anything….that my relationship with God is the only thing that has carried me through the last 10 years (so many highs-&-lows)…and that with all of my skills and/or flaws, I tried my hardest to work in a way that honors God. I’ve done my best, and I’m leaving with that peace in my heart. I’m thankful for that. I’ve worked hard, and now I’m going to go work just as hard for someone else! Keep us in prayer as we make this transition, as a family–and please, pray for me as I take on different responsibilities in an entirely new field.

I’m looking forward to the new adventure…starting 10/4. 🙂

Leviticus, Media Mockery, & Why Are We Still Putting Up With This?!?

March 29, 2021 / Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

Sacrilegious is never funny.

Mocking the “god” of any other culture will get you eviscerated, cancelled, or worse…but mocking Jesus Christ makes you a social media star? Especially around the holiest of seasons, as we celebrate His death & resurrection? How is that allowed?

In studying Leviticus, the weight of salvation stands out heavier than ever before…When you think about the different sacrifices that were made: Burnt offering, Grain offering, Sin offering, Guilt offering, Ordination offering, Peace offering—when you think about the cost of such offerings, even in just the financial sense….When you think about the mental toll it takes, to be a priest and to slaughter animals at an endless rate, to wake and sleep in the surroundings of blood & incense….when you think about the continual efforts of the people, to monitor thoughts and actions, to regulate when a sacrifice needed to be made, and the never-ending list of sacrifices to be made….

And you think about how the Messiah ended it all in the holiest of afternoons….

He carries the weight of the sacrifice, then—2,000 years ago—and now, and forever.

He carries the burden of the continual accountability, the weight of guilt and shame, the oppression of never being able to kill enough to completely wipe the slate clean. He is ENOUGH. He wipes the slate clean with His own Blood, with His Death & Resurrection.

The Cross was never a scrawny white guy held up on two popsicle sticks by some thumbtacks. The Cross was about The Innocent…the very Son of the Most High God…Who was brutally murdered by a people that refused to recognize Redemption in any other presentation than the blood-covered altar of the Temple.

The Cross is about freedom…it’s about Eternity. It’s about drawing us into Him, about allowing us into the Holy of Holies, free and cleansed of all known and unknown sin, without an animal sacrifice and without having to go through another human being as our gateway to the Throne. The Cross bridges the gap between the Outer Courts to the Inner Courts, and puts us on a freeway to kneel and worship with the elders, praising God in a chorus that never stops, because it CAN’T stop, because HE IS WORTHY.

Our relationship with God is not something to be mocked, and it isn’t something to take casually. He’s not “Buddy Christ,” and although He is most definitely our best of friends, He is still SOVEREIGN, and He is HOLY. Time spent with Him is HOLY. This casual attitude of mocking Him…of allowing the news and the media, of allowing movies and music to take His imagery and to twist it in such abominable ways is inconceivable. Conversely, our perception of Satan and all that he brings to the table is also not to be mocked or taken casually, as spiritual matters are serious. Degrading them to a form of blasé entertainment is utter foolishness (which is exactly what Satan wants us to do—the less-seriously we take him, the less seriously we take Jesus, and he’s happy with that).

I caught myself rolling my eyes at recent media outlets that were celebrating a social media star who is blatantly glorifying Satan in his latest video. He’s proud of himself—he says this is how he celebrates his “freedom.” He’s in more chains than he will ever know, until he’s facing eternity…and I rolled my eyes. Like, how am I not weeping over this? How am I not grieving in my spirit over this? I’m so calloused to the media portrayal of spiritual matters that I am reduced to rolling my eyes like a bored teenager, as opposed to crying out to God for a nation that is spiritually bankrupt. I’m disappointed in myself–have I gotten so used to skimming headlines, that I fail to allow them to penetrate my convictions?? How have we fallen so far as a nation, that there isn’t a huge moral outcry to shut this kind of imagery and glorification down??

The further in I go into the Old Testament, the more my salvation means to me…the more I realize my state as a human being that will never be worthy on her own. I so desperately need my Jesus, and I need Him not just as my Best Friend, but as my Holiness. I want to be cloaked in His holiness, to have Him take out the things that make me forget Who He is, and replace them with whatever makes me grow closer to Him. I want the mockery that makes my eyes roll right now, to break my heart until I see His face. I want to understand WHY His sacrifice means so much, not just on the surface, but on a deeper level.

I’m so flawed. I’m such a dichotomy—my mouth needs its own separate redemption, I swear—but in my heart of hearts, I want Jesus, and I want Him to be the center of my life. It’s a never-ending journey, and I’m thankful that He lets us be on it…that He’s with us every step of the way.

Sacrilegious is NEVER funny…but even to those who would openly mock Him, Jesus says, “Come.” He responds to the haters with Love—He did it 2,000 years ago as He was dying on the Cross, and He still does it, today. He says, “Come, and be with Me in My Father’s House.” He invites us to love, and to be loved in a way we don’t deserve, but that He freely gives. He’s Jesus, and He loves you as you are….and He loves you to who He sees you becoming as you grow in Him.

Thank you, Chrissy Teigen & John Legend.

October 28, 2020October 28, 2020 / Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

In this season, personally, it’s difficult to read an article like the one Chrissy Teigen just posted: https://www.ksdk.com/article/news/nation-world/chrissy-teigen-pens-statement-on-pregnancy-loss-public-grief/507-03d31b26-dbe8-4e61-9290-916dcef834b1

Let’s be honest: It’s difficult in any season, to read something as open and honest, about such a devastating topic. But to read it as we are once again approaching our annual time of remembering our Hannah-girl, truly hit a nerve. I feel like I’ve been writing about the need to “normalize” the topic of miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant loss for years, and I have–over a decade, which sounds crazy. My little corner of the internet has nary an impact, but many times, I’ve felt like if I don’t write, I may explode, and if I’m not honest in what I put out here, then what’s the point?

Honesty is uncomfortable to read AND to write. Being raw and open, and exposing your highs and lows to complete strangers is dangerous and cathartic and messy and occasionally beautiful, but it is NEVER easy, and those that do it, either already have that understanding, or learn it quickly. Chrissy Teigen and John Legend have been candid about all sorts of topics, and have taken on the Keyboard Commandos with humor and grace. Even when I disagree with them on certain political points, it has never changed the fact that I genuinely LIKE them as they seem online, and that I appreciate their approach to the public….but this goes beyond good recipes and perfectly-lit Instagram photos.

Sharing the rawness of the experience of the loss of a child is monumental. The photos shown from Chrissy’s hospital stay are so striking; she stated yesterday that she specifically asked that they be taken, as she understands firsthand the importance of documenting every moment a mother has with her child…even at the end. Every time I see the photo of her getting her epidural, it breaks me and I remember The Last Photo I have of Hannah–the one that is locked in the safe, and that will never be shared. It is brutal, and I cannot stress that enough. There is more heartache in that 3×5 Polaroid than the world should ever see….

And yet here are two celebrities, taking an opportunity to put a face and a name to not only the disease (placental abruption), but to the fact that, “according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, about 1 pregnancy in 100 at 20 weeks of pregnancy and later is affected by stillbirth. Each year about 24,000 babies are stillborn in the United States.” THIS IS THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, and if those numbers do not make you angry at the state of healthcare in this country, then maybe you should check your heart. THESE STATISTICS ARE NOT ACCEPTABLE. 1 in 4 women suffer the loss of a child from miscarriage, stillbirth, or neonatal loss–that’s 25% of women.

That’s me.

That’s Chrissy Teigen.

That’s countless other women who have spoken to me, sometimes in hushed tones, about the miscarriages or losses they’ve never told anyone about, or that they were afraid to acknowledge, or the shame they’ve felt about their “complicated” or “failed” bodies. That’s countless other women who have had the courage to speak out, or that have taken women like me under their wing to usher them through the grieving process, or that had no one to help them on this journey…25% of women.

I guarantee you know someone who’s had a miscarriage, even if you don’t realize it.

I could go off on a tangent about hormone-altering chemicals or carcinogens or the millions of things we do that impact our bodies and impair healthy pregnancies and childbirth, but it’s not the place (and frankly, if you care, you’ll do the research). I think it’s more important to realize the strength it takes to publicly document and share the most vulnerable parts of your life–the good & the bad–when you have the kind of platform John & Chrissy have, because in their status, they raise awareness (I hope).

When we lost Hannah, I met a woman who later explained to me that when she lost her son years earlier, she entered the hospital to deliver a baby, and she left carrying a bouquet of flowers. There was no counseling; there was nothing to document before a nurse or doctor entered the room that there was no baby (and I know firsthand what it’s like to have a doctor ask, “How’s the baby?” and have to answer that “there is not a baby”). There was no special photographer for goodbye photos (a group started up not long after we lost Hannah, called, “Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep” that specializes in loss photography, which is incredible). There wasn’t a care group or support system in place for her, like I had to support me (please check out Sha re Pregnancy & Infant Loss; they’re a tremendous asset for those who have gone through loss). There really weren’t any devotional books that she knew of; I happened to land on one that was very helpful (I wish I could remember how I got a copy of this book, but it was AMAZING for me). There wasn’t anything in place, really, to help a woman or her partner cope with the tremendous hole left by the death of a child. Thanks to advocates, celebrity or not, resources are now in place to help millions of families heal and come to terms with something that is unnatural and foreign to any expectation we have going into pregnancy. Americans are NOT educated about the risks we face in childbirth. We’re duped into thinking everything will be Instagram-perfect, and we’ll all live happily ever after.

For 25% of us, that is simply not the case. We will always be missing our one special piece of our family photo…

My heart hurts for Chrissy & John, and for anyone who has been on this journey…for wherever they are in this process. I’m grateful for their candor, and I understand to a very small extent, how difficult it is. I hope she & John are surrounded by grace and faith as they set out on the course of healing; I hope that they encounter a restoration only Jesus can give.

Chrissy said something toward the end of the posted article, that she feels “bad” for making everyone else feel bad, as she had chronicled the announcement and the first parts of her pregnancy with Jack, with such joy. I’ve learned that we can’t feel bad for sharing joy, even if it doesn’t turn out the way we hoped. Joy is beautiful, even if it’s for a short season, and even if it ends in sadness. Maybe it sounds terrible now, but the sadness will eventually be redeemed to joy, and the contrast therein will be even more stunning…someday. Not now, but someday.

Chrissy, we honor Jack, and we are grateful that you shared your journey with us…We honor Jack, and Hannah, and Bentley, and Annalise, and Saige, and Savannah, and Brydon, and AnnaBella, and Emmaline, and Emma, and so many–so many–little boys & girls who have gone on to Heaven before us. Our hearts embrace you & John, and our prayers and support are with you. Thank you for being a face and a name for the grief and the struggle we have known; may God bless your family, and keep you close to His heart as you go on this journey…

The Blues and Bad Behavior…

August 5, 2020 / Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

I’ve determined that I’m boring.

I know we’re not supposed to compare ourselves to each other, but sometimes the differences are so glaringly obvious that you can’t help but to notice them, and yep–I’ve noticed: I’m boring.

There was a time (and some of you will remember this) where I actually PRAYED to be boring (and my statement of being boring is NOT a complaint). Things in my life were so chaotic that I couldn’t see which end was up, and all I wanted was for things to die down–I needed an ordinary, boring life, and I prayed on a daily basis for some kind of calm to take place just so that David & I could catch our breath!

And, just like that, here we are–We’re boring.

Now, I’m saying this with the full knowledge that much like the proverbial dog-paddle, we look calm on the surface, but underneath, we’re kickin’ full-steam ahead. We’re treading water in the middle of a panic attack, but at this point, SO IS EVERYONE ELSE. Everyone is stressed out, fed up, flipping over, & manic…

And so are we…but we’re used to this, so we’re still smiling. 🙂 I guess I never thought of repetitive states of chaos conditioning us to a lifestyle of stress, but I’ll be darned–it has! I don’t always look at the frantic pace with this same level of calm (LOL–y’think?!?), but for now–even if it’s just for today–I’m a peace with all of it.

So, yeah, I’m boring (and I’m generally okay with that).

I had the opportunity this weekend to hang out with my older sister, Billie. We’re typically as opposite as two siblings can be–she’s short, I’m tall; I like Broadway and rap, and she likes Southern Rock and the Blues (okay, I like everything except jazz, and I think she agrees with that). I love broccoli, & she’d practically shank you with a stalk when we were kids, as opposed to just eating it (this is great ammunition for my son, because I can now tell him Auntie is short because she didn’t eat her veggies. He has no idea that at 5’7″ I am freakishly tall for our family. All of the veggies in the world aren’t gonna make that kid tall, but I can try while I have the chance). I don’t remember the last time we spent 3 days together, and it was a lot of fun. I have to say, I’m a bit envious–at 47, she still stays involved with the music scene and is a fill-in drummer/percussionist whenever she gets the chance. Sometimes, I’m not going to lie–I wonder where music might have taken me, had I given it the chance? It’s those missed opportunities and/or a lack of pursuit that occasionally rumble around in the back of my brain….

This was also my first opportunity to attend Blues Farm, where a bunch of people hung out, camped, and listened to some great music (Jackson Stokes, the Kris Lager Band, and the incomparable Amanda Fish).

Now, I haven’t been camping…ever…and I’ve been told that since I didn’t have to use the bathroom in the woods, that this doesn’t count. Whatever–I slept in the Tent From Hell, so I’m counting it. Speaking of the Tent From Hell, therein lies the title of this blog–“The Blues and Bad Behavior.”

Ever lose your temper so voraciously that there is NO GOING BACK?!?

Like, have you ever lost your temper and basically spit fire and sludge like some kind of vomitous garbage heap?!? Yeah, I totally did. I lost it, and I lost it BADLY. I’ve learned that I should never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever–get it? LIKE, EVER–try to put a tent up in front of anyone. Like, no one should have to hear that hot mess. It was bad. I think I invented a few swearwords. I don’t even know what I said, but I know none of it was good. In my last blog, I wrote about, “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story?” & I think I addressed the importance of the words you leave behind. It’s safe to say that if anyone had my verbal launch in writing, it’s a story no one would ever want to read…I flat-out embarrassed myself. I’m a firm believer that profanities should be verbal, never written, and that they’re a lazy man’s way of communicating….and boy, was I slacking on the job. Thus, the “Bad Behavior–“I wish I could take it all back and somehow preemptively wash my mouth out, but nope–there it lays. UGH. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I recollect….hopefully…maybe it just seemed particularly coarse because I haven’t lost it that badly in a very, VERY long time (pre-child)…but yikes.

(OMG, the gray hair! Get a good look at it, because I’m goin’ in for color in a few weeks! BAH!!) It’s a good thing I was a pretty good distance away from people, and that the people who were within earshot were very, very forgiving.

But, back to the good stuff–The Blues.

I love music. I love music that makes me emote, music that hits my soul and makes me want to sing. I love that God created music as a universal language, that even when we don’t understand the words, we still feel it the same across the world. I love that feeling when someone just blows you away, and all of the hair stands up on your arms. I love seeing skilled musicians that love what they do, and that pour that joy into their melodies and lyrics.

I love seeing people get gross and sweaty on stage, because they’ve just poured everything out there for the audience to hear and to see. I love worship sets that have ended on the floor, because people are worshiping so passionately with music as the medium, that they are spiritually overwhelmed in the Presence of God. Music was made for worship, to worship, the One Who created it. He made it for His pleasure, and He made us in His image, so we respond to it as well.

Music is so, so powerful–I’ve met very few people that don’t like music, and I have always looked at them sideways. I don’t know that life (and I don’t want to). A good musician touches you spiritually, emotionally, even physically in the overpouring–it’s such a deep thing. I love how I feel when I get to be a part of a team of musicians that all have the same goal: To reach the feet of Jesus…to bear witness to that ultimate expression of worship…

Music is amazing.

The Blues as we know them came from the hearts of an oppressed people whose souls were overburdened with the pain of their lives. It grew out of sorrow that eventually transposed to other emotions–love, even joy. It became a genre of music, as opposed to a culture in music. I feel like it gets appropriated a lot by Southern Rock, which is heavily, heavily influenced by The Blues, and that bands have to be careful of making sure credit is given where it is due. The Blues originated from a deep, soul-level longing, pulling from African roots, from slave songs, and from spirituals. I think that in American music, we tend to categorize it by bass lines and chord progressions; I believe it’s much more than that. There are all kinds of categories of The Blues, but when I hear that phrase, I always think of the call-and-responses from the fields where a stolen people sang their hope and laments.

This weekend at Blues Farm had some Blues, some rock, some funk, and a good mix of stuff that anyone can dance to, and it was a ton of fun. The bands that played were approachable, honest, and engaging; the people in the audience were so fun to watch, and I could not have felt more out of my element, LOL–but my sister was TOTALLY in hers! She played percussion for almost 6 hours–I’d be a noodle by then.

One of the takeaways that I had from the weekend (outside of my renewed understanding in my overall boringness) is how music is so gracious and fluid. My sister played with 2 bands that she hadn’t rehearsed with. There was no soundcheck (um, shout-out to Terry, the sound guy, for being AMAZING–sound is difficult to run, and he was primo!!!), no practicing–there was just, “Hey, get in, let’s play,” and that’s SO EXCITING TO SEE!!! As a singer, that’s a freedom I wish I got to have, and I don’t think I’ve ever got to do that–to just jump in on a full set, BOOM, let’s go!!–and to not only do it exceedingly well, but to have fun in the process! I didn’t see ANY ego in the bands–everyone was so humble and so obviously there for the sheer joy of playing. I don’t see that enough in music (or ever, really, in church music–people get so caught up in the techniques and the ego that it falls flat of actually being a joyful experience. I’m guilty of it, too). I always overthink things and then I get scared, even in a worship set. SO. Much. Anxiety. I loved looking up and seeing the drummer and my sister perfectly in sync on various rhythms, solely based on how they felt the music, as opposed to having every “i” dotted. It was messy and funky, and it was absolutely PERFECT. GOSH, it was fun to watch and to listen to!

So, in spite of my Bad Behavior, I wound up meeting awesome new people, at a beautiful piece of property in MO, and listening to some really groovy music made by some true artists. I got to sit in on Live Frickin’ Music, y’all, and I’d almost forgotten just how wonderful it is to be in the audience again..

I took the opportunity to try my hand at concert photography, which was a new experience that I didn’t know I’d like as much as I do (David could have done much better, but I don’t think I was terrible!). I gained a new appreciation for my sister’s level of skill, and a new understanding of music in the process. I had a beautiful 3 days in perfect temps, and then I came back home on Sunday to my awesome husband and my crazy kiddo, who both missed me a ton (and I totally missed them). I’m back on the hamster wheel, but for 3 days, I got to experience Blues Farm, and I feel like (in spite of the Tent from Hell), it was a refresher for my brain.

Yep, I’m boring–I’m nowhere near as cool as those musicians or the people who looked way chiller than me, relaxing in their lawn chairs and enjoying the show. I’m way too uptight (I don’t sit still very well), but it was fun to kick back a few days and to meet new people (which, if you know me, you know I don’t do so well on that part–dang you, social anxiety) who seemed like they liked my neurotic self just the way I am (and who made a great deal of fun of my sister, so now I have to love them forever).

I’m looking forward to hopefully going back to Blues Farm in the future…and to hopefully, better behavior….or duct tape. 🙂 (I swear to you, I will NEVER put that tent up again. I’ll sleep on the bare ground first. I’m not kidding).

Love, Peace, and Loud Guitars Forever, y’all. 🙂 (Or at least, that’s what the Cool Kids say). 🙂

A Disjointed Hot Mess of Getting My Head On Straight, AKA, “Why Am I Posting After Midnight?!?”

May 14, 2020 / Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

Doing that thing I’m never supposed to do…getting on the computer way too late at night, knowing it’s a bad idea but doing it anyway…

I’m quite sure someone will be offended by the time I finish processing whatever is pricking at my conscience, because as we all know, I process by writing and I’m dumb enough to put it online (“dumb enough?” Is it actually dumb? Or is it too genuine to be “comfortable?”).

I’m quite sure the Karens of the world will have their time clucking their tongues and clickety-clacking their keyboards to tell me how I’m not holy enough, or I’m not praying hard enough, or I’m not spiritual enough or whatever, and I’m sure they’re right, but that doesn’t make anyone feel any better, now does it?

I’m not going to blame this on Mother’s Day (it sucked, don’t ask, and no, I don’t understand why. Grief is unpredictable, ‘k?). I’m not going to blame this on work stress (do I still have a job? Mandatory pay cuts? A cut in hours? All options, nothing decided, and we’re floating in a pool of what-the-heck-is-going-on?!?). I’m not going to blame this on COVID-19 (although I will tell you that my personal state of mental health is on the decline, if I’m being honest). I’m not going to blame this on the crappy remarks my husband made to me today, or that I made back to him (I don’t remember who started it, but we’re sick of being around each other right now, and I’m sick-to-death of sitting on the couch). I will blame this on the apparently 15 pounds worth of anxiety-eating I’ve done to cope with the last 9 weeks, and that falls squarely on my super-fat shoulders.

Now I’m ticked at myself for failing so horribly (really, what did I expect??!?!? I’ve baked more in the past 9 weeks than I have ever before, during a non-Christmas season. David’s been doing all of the cooking, and he doesn’t know how to cook without going all Paula-Deen on everything, which is delicious, but terrible–and why I gained #20 right after we got married—and why I gained #15 being stuck in the house with him for 9 weeks, although we all know I could have gotten my fat rear up from the couch and made my own dang food. I didn’t, and now I feel horrible, I look like crap, and my blood pressure is through the roof). I have to put the brakes on EVERYTHING, and that sucks, because PEANUT M&MS ARE AMAZING, and no, David had nothing to do with those. Those are all on me…and on my hips.

I’m struggling with feeling really anxious, really sad, and really, really stressed out…and I know I’m not alone, but I feel like I am. I don’t feel like I can pick up a phone and tell anyone that I’m in a funk, because that’s not uplifting, and aren’t I supposed to be FRICKIN’ UPLIFTING?!?!?! Because right now, all I am is a giant lead balloon in a forgiving pair of leggings and a piece of fried chicken.

I feel like a giant &$*%&$ failure in every possible facet of my life.

There–I said it. And now it’s permanently embedded into Cyberspace. CASSIDY FEELS LIKE A GIANT &(*$%&($ FAILURE.

(We interrupt this rant to disclose that searching for a meme of a crying drag queen was enough to make me laugh. Those who know me know I love Jesus…and I also love drag queens. That’s an entirely different discussion. We digress.)

So, yes, much like the mascara on the photograph above, I feel like a failure/hot mess. The problem with getting something that sounds amazing (like working from home, or more sleep–is there EVER enough sleep?!? Not when you don’t have a thyroid, truth) is that over time, it becomes laced with uncertainties and eventually, tinged with paranoia. I’ve said for a few weeks now that everything feels very unsteady, and it’s not a good environment for me to try to live/work/be confronted with 24/7. Tension is building, and I’m not the only one. I’m internalizing more…I’m feeling more and more isolated and bleak and super-Don’t Touch-Me-ish (one can only be a landing mat for a projectile 7-year old without it taking a toll).

David’s getting a shorter fuse. Jericho doesn’t want anything to do with homework and has turned into a screen addict who shrieks like he’s being beaten alive if we tell him the TV needs to be turned off (SERIOUSLY, PUPPET STEVE ON YOUTUBE, IF WE EVER MEET IN PERSON I AM SILENCING YOU WITH A GLUE GUN.). (And yes, KAREN, we know we did this. WE ARE TERRIBLE PARENTS, OKAY?!?! I SAID IT!!! Just add it to the reasons why I feel like a GIANT (*$&%(* FAILURE.) Going into this summer, my biggest fear is that if I don’t come up with some kind of schedule or curriculum, both of the guys in my house are going to get sucked into some weird vortex of TV/Legos/YouTube and I will never see any of them again…which is fine, because I will have buried myself with my headphones and my tablet, under a pile of blankets where I will binge watch “Drag Race” until I’ve eaten myself to death with the seemingly-endless bag of Peanut M&Ms that I have discovered. THEN the guys can watch my progress on television on “My 600lb Life,” and we’ll all feel like we’re learning about each other again.

Yep…We’re not in our happy place.

Jericho has been spending a bit of time during the week at my parents’ house during our lockdown. I know that’s controversial, but I live in a 1,000sq. ft. townhouse. My parents live in a house that’s around 3x the size, out in the country, with a bigger backyard and far more to do outdoors. This gives me a bit of time to have some peace in my week (as I’m still working from home…good times) and for David to continue looking for a job (that’s another key point of stress. What do we do if he finds a job? There aren’t any childcare options right now. The “what ifs” are endless, right?). I’ve not seen my parents, as I’m stuck in “pause” regarding health issues right now (and every doctor I have is gonna be livid at the weight gain, so I’m already preparing to hear that lecture), so I miss them. I miss my job (does that make me a terrible mother? To say that I miss being at my office?!? See, that’s another foothold for “mom guilt”–there are SO MANY.), and I truly, deeply miss my church (Zoom is meh.).

You know what?

The longer I sit here and type about how much everything sucks, the more I am reminded that THIS SUCKS FOR EVERYBODEEEEEE.

I’m not special, you’re not special, and yeah, it’s okay for us to take a few minutes and gripe about it. From my blog history, it’s apparent that I’ve been griping about it for a few weeks, so yeah, I’m having some difficulties processing things and then dropping them. Whether that’s because I was raised by an Italian, or because I’m a vengeful harpy, who knows?

THIS SUCKS.

You can say it with me–it’s allowed. This is a safe place.

I know we’re hopefully coming to the end of the lockdown; just this week, I think I’ve officially got a true back-to-the-office date. I think we’ll get through this much more safely if people would get over themselves and wear a dang mask (they’re an “it” fashion accessory now, darling–you can even get them on Zulily!), we’d get through this a bit faster. I kinda think I may stick with wearing one during every flu season forever, because the flu I caught in February was WALKING DEATH, and I’m quite sure a face mask might have kept me from getting it…unless I got it from the germ magnet known as my child…hmm. But if people would just obey the CDC recommendations and wear a silly mask, what harm could it do? JUST DO IT, and get us out of this sooner!!!!!!

Just sitting down and writing things out is helpful for me–I know it’s oversharing, but at least by the end of this, I can sit here and say that my thought processes are linear. I’m not so scattered all over the place, getting slapped in the face by every emotion and feeling of failure that floats my way. I know it’s all a trick of the Enemy to get in my head and bury me–I hate to admit it, but it’s working, because I feel buried under all of this.

I can recognize the attack, but I’m truly so freaked out/worn out that all I can do is roll over and surrender. I haven’t yet, but I’m afraid that I will. I don’t feel like I’m strong enough to put my head up and to fight back, or even to pray enough to fight back. I can laugh at my own patheticness, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t scare me.

The other night, I tried to pray for some kind of peace or relief. I prayed myself to sleep (which is kind of normal for me), but I wasn’t making any sense to myself. It was mostly just me saying, “Jesus…please.” That’s all I got. My brain is such a mess that I can’t even talk to God naturally. Like, I’m having to tell myself, “Girl, get yourself together and TALK TO HIM!!!!”

But you know what?

I don’t have to get myself together to talk to Him.

I don’t have to sit down and write a blog about how I feel like an epic failure, because He knows how I feel and He knows the truth. He knows every insecurity and He remembers them ALL (I don’t even remember them all. That’s ridiculous.). I don’t have to get “linear” for Him, because He knows me, mess and all, and even though it’s hard for me to believe,

He loves me.

I am without a doubt, a mess.

Most of the time, I don’t want to stop and try to sort me out, because IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

I love this graphic–I’ve seen it before, but it’s so perfect. Grief isn’t something that exists in one moment, in one event of your life, regardless of how “huge” that moment is. Grief can be experienced during any kind of major transition, and baby, WE ARE GOING THROUGH TRANSITION. This whole lockdown experience is traumatic on many different levels, for many different people….for people who look like they have the “perfect” life, and for people who are in the trenches. We’re all unified by this one theme right now: STRESS.

There’s no coincidence that the word, “pandemic” and “panic” sound the same, and I think every time the word is spoken aloud, that energy goes into the atmosphere and we are in the thick of it!!! It’s oppressive, right?!?! I can’t be the only one who feels like the sky weighs a million pounds right now.

Constant reminders in the media and the press of death, sadness, grief, fear…constant attacks on the mind that torment (and we all know who the author of torment is…stupid jerk). We’re getting hit from every angle by news that’s designed to destroy our morale and to basically fry our hope. I read an article from the Psychiatric Times that mentioned Camus’ The Plague. I’d forgotten about Camus, but from what I remember, he was an existentialist who had no hope. The story was about a town that lost half of its inhabitants due to a plague (thus, the title. Nice.). The article talks about the weight of “death anxiety,” which sounds a bit dramatic (even to me) and about how there is trauma in the persistent, unrelenting state that we’re in right now.

No wonder I feel like crap.

It’s literally in the atmosphere. UGH.

When all of this started, I thought, “YES, GURRL!!!! You will read the books! You’ll start a workout plan! You’ll learn new things and GET AWESOME,” not, “Your life will be boring as h*ll, your kid will mutiny, and you’ll get fat again.” I started the books…I WILL get through at least one of them. And yes, I have undertaken some creative projects (lots of painting. Too many flamingos…as if there could EVER be too many flamingos. Baking…which I like way too much of….and sewing! I’m learning to sew, and yes, my face masks are DOPE.). I was doing really well at forcing my household to go on daily walks with me until last week’s cold snap, and I can tell that was a bad idea, because walking really helps my back. So that’s getting restarted, for sure.

But truth be told, I haven’t done all of the things I’d hoped, so it adds a layer to being disappointed with myself…can I just write on all of the mirrors that GOD IS NOT DISAPPOINTED WITH ME?!? My weight or my achievements and/or lack thereof does not make God love me (or you) any less, darn it, so why do I let them make ME love me less?!? BLAH.

The “Psychiatry Times” article had an interesting quote that, “death anxiety may also result in the following positive opportunities and growth-oriented goals:

• Valuing creativity and creative achievement²²

• Generativity²³

• Meaning making

• Mindfulness and meditation²⁴

• Positive health behavior changes²⁵

• Prioritizing growth-oriented goals and positive standards^26″

Likewise, numerous websites have shown this graphic for finding the positives during this time:

I think there’s a fine line between looking at these great ideas, trying to do them or not doing them, and then using those outcomes by which to judge ourselves. I’m guilty of that, as seen above.

I’m also guilty of writing blogs that are way too long, waaaay past my bedtime, so I gotta wrap this up without feeling added guilt at the fact that I’m crap at writing conclusions (I should just end this here with a, “Bye!”). LOL!

I think I’m just going to say that I, and probably you, have to give ourselves some credit. We’re surviving a pandemic…it’s not only a viral pandemic; it’s a pandemic of misinformation, of unrealistic goals, and of misunderstood, confusing presumptions that affect us on every level. It’s a pandemic that has kids caught in the middle, and that’s a hard one to accept and to work with (I still don’t know how to explain all of this to my kiddo or how we’re going to get back into the routine I swore I wouldn’t let us get out of). It’s a giant ball of confusion and chaos in a world that was already a flippin’ disaster, and now we’re in deep. I’m struggling with feeling buried, and I’d wager that you might be, too, if you’re still reading all of this.

Peace is a concept that sounds so refreshing and so restorative…the other night, when I said I was trying to pray and all I could get out was, “Jesus, please?” PEACE was what I needed, what I was seeking. I didn’t have to say it–He knew, and I slept like a baby. Peace is the antithesis to Panic, and it’s not some global, Michael-Jackson-We-Are-The-World Sing-A-Long. Peace is a spiritual state, and I think it’s like a shield around us to protect us from losing our ever-loving minds during life as a rule. Panic tears holes in that shield, so we gotta get in a place of quiet and worship and GET IT BACK. That’s going to be my goal through the rest of the pandemic…sure, I want to bake all of the things but still lose these 15 pounds, and read all of the books and reorganize my household, but what is it without the very Peace of God?

And that’s my new focus…that’s what writing these nearly-3,000 words has led me to: Seeking Peace. Peace in the face of the Pandemic, Peace in the face of unsteady Mental Health, Peace in the face of Homeschooling and Job Insecurity.

Peace from the very Heart of God…for you and me, for our households and for our families.

Peace to you and to your loved ones….peace in the middle of the noise and the guilt, and the standards and the social media mess. Peace, be still.

Click the link to be taken to a list of Bible verses focusing on Peace. Shalom, y’all.

Cassidy's Commentary

Believer. Wife. Mom.

God

Forgiveness is Expensive…

“Phenomenal cosmic powers! (Itttttty Bitty Living Space)!!”

“You Are Loved.”

Restoration in the Face of Deconstruction

“Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes–Turn & Face the Strange”

Leviticus, Media Mockery, & Why Are We Still Putting Up With This?!?

The Blues and Bad Behavior…

A Disjointed Hot Mess of Getting My Head On Straight, AKA, “Why Am I Posting After Midnight?!?”

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