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A Virtual Christmas Card…..

/ Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

Remember when sending Christmas cards with a beautifully-stated letter of life update was like, THE thing to do?

Man, I remember….because I stopped doing it last year.

Last year, just before Thanksgiving we lost my brother-in-law; two days before Christmas, I lost my biological father, & to my surprise, mourned him much more heavily than I ever thought I would (I basically had a total breakdown & threw a screaming tantrum in the front yard for the neighbors to enjoy while my husband considered locking me up & my sister literally kept me vertical). Other family issues curtailed into the losses, & I’d say it was 6 months or more before we got our feet back under us.

Coming out of the last Christmas season was a journey, but we also picked up some “new” traditions that I think we’re continuing with (minus the front-yard public meltdown). In spite of the reallllllllly rough start to 2025, we had some really cool things happen that are worth mentioning:

  1. For the second year in a row, Jericho took the top score in his class for the SAT. He says he doesn’t think he can go for the free-throw for 2026, but we shall see….I literally jumped out of my office chair and yelled when I got the news. You would have thought he’d won an Oscar!
  2. David found a job that truly recognizes his unique skill set and personality. We went to their corporate Christmas party last week, & my heart figuratively burst when his co-workers and his boss told me how much they loved him & that he was “one of” them. I was also a tad frightened, but hey, it’s really great to hear that he’s building a tribe!
  3. Speaking of a “tribe,” we’ve jumped back into church membership after a lengthy time of separation. I’ve turned in my paperwork & David’s working on his…it’s so good to know we’re building a community of like-minded people that can be a home again.
  4. I started a job in January back in healthcare. I mentioned today to a newer co-worker that you’d never know it now, but it took me my first 6 months to find myself as an employee again after my trauma from my previous “manager.” The inconsistencies, gaslighting, lack of support, bitterness & targeting, did a ton of damage & I hadn’t realized how deep the hurt went. Therapy & prayer made a huge impact; trusting God in my place of employment has always been a struggle, & although I knew He led me to where I am, I was in constant fear that I was dropping the ball. I finally let that go, warmed up to my current boss, & realized I had something to bring to the table. The change has been wonderful, & I am glad I moved to the company I’m at! Good things are on the horizon, & I am excited to see how God continues to work. I still struggle with forgiveness–the same “manager” continues to target people at the previous workplace & every time her name comes up, I realize I have more to lay down. It’s hard when you see your friends get treated poorly, to forgive and to let go. The Italian upbringing (which I’m very thankful for, Dad!) leans towards vengeance, but biblically, that’s not my job, so I have to again, trust that God is handling things. Challenging, for sure! Especially when I’m SO CREATIVE…..
  5. We “celebrated” our 20th anniversary in May, along with David’s 50th birthday in January. I say, “celebrated” because honestly, it wasn’t what I wanted it to be. I was going through some medical drama in late April/early May, & I was pretty much on the verge of another front-yard meltdown due to changes in medications & all of the family stresses. I really fell into a funk & had to do some intensive therapy to pull through it. Man, The Tribe came THRU. From sitting with me while I cried, to sending a pick-me-up card and praying with me, to meeting with friends via Marco Polo; I really leaned on my sister & my friends to get me thru it all and to figure out how to effectively communicate with my husband without getting so emotional that it sent HIM into a spiral. He was struggling enough!!! My son was in the thick of it with us, & although I’m sad that he went through it with us as a family, I’m actually glad that he got to see the process of what medications can do, what they can’t do, what therapy and prayer can do, and that there can be a sunny side to all sorts of trauma and disorders. He got to see all of those things in action, combined with the support of my sister & my friends, and how his dad had his own struggles, successes, and choices in the process. It was a real-life lesson in action, & we’re still talking thru parts of it.
  6. Noodle the Hot Mess Mutt continues to be well, a Hot Mess. We love her; she’s still indecisive with how she feels about us (unless we have food or a warm blanket, in which case we’re her favorite…but should we try to move her from said blanket, then we’re The Devil and she will attack, so there’s that). She hasn’t had any major issues or injuries this year, which, given her tendency to eat any-&-everything, is borderline miraculous.

And that’s basically it–we’re celebrating David’s current job as well as mine, celebrating Jericho for basically being a future-lawyer-genius & overall nice kid; celebrating Noodle for not dying; and most of all, celebrating the grace & love of Jesus, Who, for reasons not yet understood, continues to call us His own. His love is so above my level of comprehension, so defiant of what the culture expects or knows, that when I really try to think about it I can’t help but to sit in absolute silence. I have nothing of wisdom or value to say–He loves in a way I can’t reciprocate or appreciate, in a way I don’t deserve or even begin to grasp. When we sing that it’s a “Reckless Love,” my husband shared with me recently a breakdown of what that phrase means to him, & I had to tell him to stop talking because I’d just done my makeup & I knew I was about to bawl. 🙂 He. Loves. Us. Who would do that? The best of us is unlovable by any standard–we are arrogant, messy, clueless, weak, and weird. We are, as one of my favorite authors says, “ragamuffins,” but that’s who the King of Kings came for. He became ONE OF US in order to REDEEM us with His death & resurrection, and that’s really what we celebrate this Christmas.

Sure, the time of the year is all wrong, and we’d do better, honestly, to celebrate other Hebraic feasts that God calls us to, over the hybridized Christmas that’s December 25th–that’s something I internally am debating–but the fact remains that at this particular time of the year, globally, we recognize the birth of the Messiah, Jesus of Nazareth. We celebrate the coming of the King, the beginning of our Redemption, and the event that is so huge, our entire Eastern calendar is measured before-&-after its happening. The birth of our Savior is PIVOTAL for the physical and the spiritual, foretold in the very stars for generations before. He’s my Savior, keeping me not only from hell, but from the very worst of myself (which I encountered this year in the aforementioned front-yard meltdown and believe me when I say this, I AM SAVED FROM BEING THAT PERSON. She’s scary). He’s saved me from being separated from His incredible love…He gave everything for me, and for you, too.

So, when you look around & you think about all of the “things” that go into celebrating the holidays, remember to set it aside periodically to, as they say corporately, “focus on the WHY.” Get quiet. Put down the dustrag & baking pans; leave your wallet at home. Alanis Morissette once asked, “why are you so petrified of silence?” Aren’t we?!?!? But there is so much BEAUTY in getting silent…in focusing on that Still, Sometimes-Small Voice…in simply giving thanks from your heart instead of just from your mouth. My pastor, Brian Kitchen, sends out a daily devotional based on the previous Sunday’s sermons; with a reference of Luke 1:22, in today’s devotional he said, “Your quiet seasons are not empty seasons. God is shaping you while the promise is developing. Even when you feel muted, the miracle is moving toward its moment.“

My biggest prayer for you & I right now in this season is that if we’re not in a “quiet” season, that we will find the time/make the time to get quiet. If we’re in a season in which God seems quiet, my prayer for you & I is that we would see how He is moving in the stillness, and that our faith would grow in the waiting. There are no empty moments in our walk with God…just moments of our own static that would distract us from His intended impacts.

May this Christmas find you in times of stillness…in times of quiet gratitude, may you reflect on the birth of your Savior; of His love for you & of how freely He laid down His life not with the kind of irresponsibility we relate to our definition of “recklessness,” but with the kind of deep, incomprehensible Love that knew there was no other way to bridge our separation, & to bring us together for eternity…

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year, to you all….celebrate!

Love, The Cooley Family: Jericho, Noodle, David, and Cassidy, November, 2025

19 years…

/ 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 19th 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…

/ 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. 33 And should not you have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?’ 34 And 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:

  1. 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!
  2. 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.
  3. 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)!!”

/ 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.

Cut Off These Hands–the Beat Goes On.

/ Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

I was listening to Bethel this morning (it’s my go-to, especially when I’m struggling with my mental/spiritual health), & the lyrics, “with every breath that I am able, I will sing of the goodness of God,” resonated with me. Breathing seems so ordinary until you can’t do it, right? Like, we just expect lungs to inflate & deflate. We expect the transition of oxygen to our cells to be seamless, to be subconscious, until it’s not.

When you’re aware of every breath, it’s stressful–>which can contribute to anxiety–>which also makes it hard to breathe…But singers gotta sang, right?!?

Worshippers HAVE to worship. It’s how we’re wired–it’s what God made us to do, even those of us that may only sound mediocre to others. When He makes you to do something, He shuts that fire up in your bones and it HAS to come out, even when you don’t think you’re able.

If you cut the hands off of a drummer, they will rig a set and keep a rhythm with their feet (just ask Rick Allen). They literally have cadence running through their veins–try sitting next to my sister during ANY kind of musical performance. She will tap on whatever is handy, impulsively. I think she probably taps rhythms out while she sleeps–it’s who she is. She. Is. A. Drummer. It’s who God made her to be, regardless of the job that pays the bills. When God creates you to worship Him in a certain way, it consumes your entire being.

I have always been surrounded by music. I remember singing Gatlin Brothers songs while washing the dishes, or The Oak Ridge Boys, or even Madonna, Skynyrd, or Cash. Church hymns line the wrinkles of my brain–“The Old Rugged Cross,” or “In the Garden.” My mom’s harmony laid the path for my own, & the Baptist church I was raised in taught me deep lyrics & rich melodies, & how they all worked together to worship Jesus. For my sister, it was the rhythms and the guitars. For me, it was the voices, and since I can remember, I have sang my lungs out whenever possible…

But sometimes, I can’t.

Asthma is a jerk–I’ve made it no secret just how I feel about the contemptable beast. Most of the time, I go on uninterrupted. No one would know I actually have a partially-paralyzed vocal chord from my cancer surgery. I sound almost normal, and God knows I haven’t lost a lot of volume (in short bursts). Vocally (when I can breathe), although I’ve lost a lot of power and duration, things sound almost the same, which had originally stressed me out the most about the surgery. I don’t even think about that, most of the time. Breathing, however, is another story. Vocal chords work based on how air moves between them. Asthma likes to rear its ugly head this time of the year, & this time it’s BAD–like, ER, steroids, and more steroids bad. Nothing really seems to be touching it, & I’m struggling with worrying about it (amongst the stress of everything else). “With every breath that I am able?” Oh, Jesus, what if I’m not?!?

Then we praise Him in the silence.

We praise Him with our voices, and when those run out, we find other ways to give Him glory, whether it’s a blog or a note to a friend, or a silent prayer, or even just a hug to someone who needs it. We praise Him with whatever we can do or find, because regardless of the method or ability, IT’S WHO HE MADE US TO BE.

So, “with every breath that I am able, I WILL sing of the goodness of God,” even when I can’t breathe, even when I’m stressed, even when I’m run-down, and even when I don’t think I can function. He still is, and I am still who He created me to be. I’m going to push aside the emotional aspects of this, and focus on that.

https://www.aafa.org/

Wallpaper Christianity…

/ Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

I’ve been so focused on the new job that I’ve felt like my brain has left me zero room to process emotions–does that make sense? I’ve been struggling with feeling like God is near (is He? I mean, of course He is, but He’s hard to hear when the world is so loud & obnoxious), in the middle of trying to get thru the day-to-day…
But He finds ways & places to capture our hearts, sometimes when we least expect it, & emotions, like water, WILL make their way thru.
Sitting at Hannah’s grave hurt today… it hurt in a way that it hasn’t in a long time. 💔 

Maybe it’s the season–after all, her birthday was October 30th, & November 28th is the date of her death. Maybe it’s the fact that this time of the year, I feel pulled in more directions than are humanly possible to reach. Maybe it’s that time is flying by, & I get this “hitch” in the center of my chest every time my son outgrows another piece of clothing…

I sat at her grave, putting up her Christmas tree, & as I was making things “just so,” I felt God say, “Wait. Take a breath–you need to process this.” David & Jericho were in the car–they could wait. I sat there & looked at the beautiful hills…15 years. 15 years of memories, of decorations come and gone…15 years of tears, of occasional stoicism or anger, many years of finding, losing, and re-finding peace in the unknowing….even peace in the non-understanding…and still, 15 years of unanswered questions…

I still find myself asking if it will ever make sense…and I still find myself leaning back on Him, knowing that He is still there to catch me. He is in the unknowing, even when He is all we know.

You know, people have gotten really crazy with what I call “wallpaper Christianity.” I can’t do the whole, “live, laugh, love” thing on my wall…I have a Cricut, & I’m pretty sure David’s biggest concern when he bought it was that I’d plaster the house with all of that, “this is us” crap, LOL, but he needn’t worry…usually….But the other day, I saw a sign on Facebook that I’m going to have to duplicate. It said, “I still remember the days I prayed for what I have, now.”

Oooooh, that got me.

I still remember the letter 14-year old me wrote to her future husband, & all of the prayers poured into this man that steals my heart & my bath towel, or forgets to change the toilet paper roll. I still remember the prayers poured into finding joy again, or into recovery. I remember the prayers poured into learning to trust God all over again, into finding who I was again….and I remember on a daily basis, the prayers poured into the crazy-pants, static, loud, lovable, kind, adorable, occasionally obnoxious, and always-amazing now 8-year old miracle that I get to call, “Son.”

Even on the days where I have utterly failed at wife-ing or parenting, I remember those prayers, & I am endlessly grateful.

I’m thankful for this journey. Above all, I am thankful for a God Who loves & sustains us thru the the business & chaos, & Who lovingly calls us to selah, or “pause” & to listen to His voice….Who created us as emotional beings & Who never tells us to “stifle it” or to “suck it up.” He understands our processes because He created us in His image, & He IS an emotional Being–He loves, He grieves, & He celebrates. He doesn’t expect or want us to pretend; He wants our reality & our actuality.

We may want to focus on “live, laugh, love, ” but He is also in those commas & spaces between,,,in the parts no one wants to paper their walls with. He is calling us to pause in the chaos, and to allow ourselves to feel…to feel all of it, and to share it with Him.

So, I got a little….well, I almost said, “wrecked,” but it was more like an emotional flat tire: easily fixed, but not to be ignored. And that’s okay. There is peace after the processing.

I hope that you get to take the time through the next few weeks to breathe, to feel, and to fall into His arms. He will always be there.

Happy Thanksgiving, and if you don’t hear from me, Merry Christmas, beloveds. May you find your selah in this season.

Sojourners & the Quest for Comfort…

/ Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

When the year started, I felt the Lord say from the beginning to “give Me a year. Give Me this year.”

Sure, I hemmed and hawed about it…I procrastinated. I had my book about the Torah sitting on the couch (it’s still there) and a few other books set aside, and as life would have it, me & my hamster wheel just kept spinning, and I kept on saying, “It’s early, Lord. I’ll get there. I’ll get there….”

But I didn’t.

But then, COVID.

And lo-&-behold, I GOT THERE.

In hearing God say, “Give me a year,” what He was telling me was that it was time for me to get serious about His Word. It’s time for me to read it; to love it; and to push past the arrogance of a lifetime of Christian education, & to look at it through new eyes. It’s time to read it in humility & in wonder…it’s time to read the Word with acceptance and through lenses of His love for us (or as close as we can come to understanding His love for us–THAT is an ever-evolving journey). 2020 has been a year of unlearning and relearning the Bible, and in undoing & redoing my personal theology in ways I never realized could be done. It’s been a year of restoration, depletion, and of new creation, as far as my spiritual life has gone. God put me in a position where yes, He took the year, but I gave it to Him, first…He gently asked, I stalled; He made it possible, and I have slowly-but-surely turned it over to Him, day by day.

Up until this year, I NEVER had a heart for reading the Word. I’m not ashamed to admit it anymore–I realize why I became so calloused, and why it was easier for me to act like I had it together or was so smart, when really, my head knowledge about the Word has never matched up to my heart’s understanding or desire for the Word–and I’m not ashamed to admit it’s been a work in progress. I’ve been following a daily reading plan that includes an audio Bible, and I’ve been listening to it every morning on my way into work. It’s been revolutionary. There’s so much I never noticed before, and so much that I never realized I was skipping or glossing over. Hearing the Word has revived parts of me that I didn’t know were dead! It’s drawn me in closer to God, and even though we all know I’m a salty chick, I think I’m more in love with Jesus than I’ve ever been before. Again, I’m a work-in-progress, and I’m always afraid someone will read this blog and think I’m something that I’m not. I’m a mess. I’m just…I’m a mess that loves Jesus, and is trying her best.

I’ve tried to stay committed on this path, and I hope I continue it for the rest of my life. I’ve found myself tempted by the glossy theology of deconstruction, & the only way I know how to stay on the path of the Lord is to follow His Word, so here I am…knowing there is no where else I’d rather be, even if my friends or my spiritual icons, or my personal inspirations, seem to be veering off course.

That seems to be happening a lot lately….people I used to have on pedestals (which isn’t their fault) are tumbling down into softened Christianity, selling out moral compasses for comfortable mattresses of “One Love theology.” It’s so tempting.

It’s so, so tempting, to sit back and say that Jesus loves us all, so therefore, we can ignore everything in Scripture that makes us uncomfortable….

It’s so, so tempting to sit back and say that Jesus loves us all, so therefore, we can ignore everything that doesn’t make sense to us….

It’s so, so tempting to sit back and say that Jesus loves us all, so therefore, we can ignore everything that sounds like judgment or conviction….

It’s so, so tempting to strip Christianity to one word–Love–but then to interpret that word into permission…

It’s so, so tempting to strip Christianity to one word–Freedom–but then to interpret that word into passivity.

I.

AM.

PASSIONATELY.

AGAINST

–Theology that states that we “deserve” to be comfortable.

–Theology that states that we “deserve” to be accepted by the world.

–Theology that states that we “deserve” to accept the world.

–Theology that states that we “deserve” to understand or that everything “has” to make sense.

–Theology that states that we “deserve” to accept carnal influences and allows them to strip us of our abilities to make choices.

–Theology that ties love to acceptance, and states that in order for me to love you, I “have” to agree with all of your life choices.

I can’t live that way, and I can’t accept that’s the direction the Lord is taking His people.

Recently, our daily readings took us through Psalms 119. A particular verse stood out to me:

“I am a sojourner in the earth. Hide not Thy commandments from me.”–Psalm 119:19 (ASV)

The word, “sojourner” stood out to me; it’s not a word you hear very often, although it’s one I’m familiar with. I went ahead and looked it up, just to be sure my understanding was correct. A sojourner is a stranger or a nomad. Wikipedia says it’s “a person who resides temporarily in a place.”

There was a book series I loved when I was a kid, called The Chronicles of Prydain. If ever I was in love with a fictional character, it was Taran, the main character. In the book, Taran Wanderer, Taran goes on a quest to determine his parentage. Throughout the story, Taran proves his character & the end result (spoiler alert) is new confidence in the boy he was, and in the man he has become. The overall tone of the book is the journey itself, though, as Taran feels like a man without a family or a home. He has no roots, no lineage, and no claim to be able to propose to the woman he loves.

Chronicles of Prydain | Prydain Wiki | Fandom

To wander through life without a feeling of belonging or home, is the very definition of what it means to be a sojourner. It is a feeling of being out-of-place, of never belonging anywhere tangible. It is a feeling of being, in a word, UNCOMFORTABLE.

Psalms 119:19 asks God not to hide His commandments from us–that’s because when you’re a sojourner, you need the anchor of His Word to ground you….to remind you that nope–THIS isn’t home, but you’re eternally tied into the place where you belong, which is with Him.

Christianity was never designed to be “comfortable.” It’s not designed to feel good–I mean, God loved us so much that He sent His Son to die a terrible death so that we could spend eternity with Him. It’s a belief system built on sacrifice.

Sacrifice is (wait for it)…UNCOMFORTABLE!

So, we’re sojourners—we’re just passing through this crazy world, and we know that no matter how difficult it gets, we have peace on the other side. Sometimes, that’s a huge comfort in and of itself (not always, but sometimes)…but “comfort” is the word I’m taking to task, because it seems to be more important these days than anything else.

We do EVERYTHING in order to make our lives more “convenient.” Like, I love me some Target Drive-Up or Walmart Pick-Up grocery shopping! I love me some Amazon! I love anything that doesn’t cause me to have to get out of my car or to interact with people. I love my electronics; I love my “quick fixes” for just about anything. I, like most Americans, do NOT like to be inconvenienced. I like my comfortable clothes, my super-soft blankets, and my aromatherapy mister.

I don’t like to be uncomfortable.

At some point, our desire to be comfortable has spread into our theology, and we have forgotten what our very faith is based in.

True love is uncomfortable.

True Love means I care enough about someone to say when they’re making a life choice that has spiritual repercussions. It means I care enough to have uncomfortable conversations in respect & in gentleness (I Peter 3:15). It doesn’t mean that I force my beliefs on someone, but it does mean that when that door opens, I am willing to step out in faith and talk to someone.

True Love means I stop expecting God to answer my questions. That might shock a few people–let me explain: Shortly after my daughter passed away, Natalie Grant’s song “Held” came out. The lyrics are forever burned into my brain; specifically, the line, “Who told us we’d be rescued? What has changed, and why should we be saved from nightmares?”

Those lyrics rocked my world, and woke me up to the absolute arrogance and entitlement with which I was living my faith. I will never understand the hows or whys, but what I do understand and believe is that God has a plan. I do understand and believe that God is GOOD…and even though what has happened does not always seem to match up on the surface with that, I am set in my belief that it is true. God. Is. Good….and that goes beyond the scope of my comprehension. Who am I, to demand answers and explanations from Him?!

WHY DO CHRISTIANS THINK THEY SHOULD ONLY EVER ENCOUNTER GOOD THINGS? Why do we think we’re immune to heartache? To loss? To sickness or disease? NOTHING in the Bible states that “you find Jesus, it’s green lights and allllllll rights from here, baby!!!!” NO–verse after verse after verse reminds us that this world is not our home. They remind us that yes, good can come from suffering, but THERE IS SUFFERING. I tend to blame prosperity garbage for these lies, and I most definitely think it’s a theology that’s responsible for devastating the church (I don’t agree with everything in this documentary, but the film American Gospel has some good sticking points about the Prosperity Gospel). WE ARE HUMANS. WE ARE BROKEN PEOPLE, LIVING IN A SICK, BROKEN, DISEASED WORLD. We are in the world, even if we aren’t of the world, and guess what? No matter what color you’re wearing, it’s gonna get dirty in a garbage bin. WE ARE NOT IMMUNE, and it’s total arrogance for us to think anything otherwise.

True Love means that when I don’t get the answers I want or think that I deserve, that I lean back in faith and still trust Him, even though not knowing or understanding makes me VERY uncomfortable.

A “comfortable” theology looks at the moral compasses and absolutes in Scriptures, cocks its head back, raises an eyebrow, and says those fateful words, “Hath God Not Said?”

“Hath God Not Said” are the Four Words that Wrecked it All, and they’re the first four words we say when we find ourselves faced with Uncomfortable Theology that we want to talk ourselves out of. “Hath God Not Said” are the Four Words that Satan the Snake used to lead Eve to eat the Apple and to corrupt her husband, and “Hath Got Not Said” are the Four Words that put us in this leaky boat on an ocean of UGH.

It is so uncomfortable to trust God. It is so uncomfortable to wander through this earth, through this mortal life, knowing that this unsettled feeling is permanent. We’re strangers in a strange land, and we’re a long way from Home. It’s okay that we accept the fact that it’s not easy, it’s not fun, and it’s VERY uncomfortable…

But it’s worth it….

It’s worth it for those glimpses into His character that we see in His Word. It’s worth it for those whispers we hear in our hearts from Him. It’s worth it to hear His Spirit speak into our hearts, to hear Him call us His sons and daughters. It’s worth it to know the security and grace only He can offer. It’s worth it to know we are forgiven, and that we are loved, and that we can share that love with others in this unloving world…in this world that sells a candy-coated, hollowed-out version of love that is so far from the Real Thing…We have in our hearts a Love that is more inclusive than anything the world can imitate. We have a Love that extends grace to all who ask…who extends eternity to all who seek it through Jesus. How great of a Love is that?

This has been a Most Uncomfortable Year for so many…I, for one, am glad that this world is not my home, because who would want to think this is it??!?! If this is all there is–if there isn’t an eternity to call Home–it’s sorely disappointing, even at it’s best, in the light of what Jesus offers us.

Truth be told, I started percolating on this blog last week, while I was sick, and while I was facing my 43rd birthday. I’ve had 43 years on this planet, and it takes me FOREVER to feel like I even slightly “fit in” anywhere. I always feel like a weirdo, but maybe instead of a “weirdo,” I should adopt the term, “sojourner,” because it seems more fitting. This world is not my home. Eternity is my home and my hope, and I am praying that as I continue on this road of reading and of falling in love with the Bible, that my eyes stay focused on just that….on hiding His commandments in my heart, and on hearing His voice. He asked me for one year…it’s turning into all of them. That’s uncomfortable to say…but I guess that’s the point of this blog.

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

“Sweet Dreams are Made of Cheese,” AKA,”Misread Scriptures & Politics”

/ Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

There’s nothing I love more than misheard lyrics. Let’s be honest–if you’ve ever been stuck in a car with me (I’m talkin’ to YOU, David!), then you know I sing with the radio non-stop (as does my child, LOL. Karma!). You may also know that I’m a master of covering my tracks when I don’t know the words to something. It’s seamless. 🙂 From lip-syncing the ubiquitous “peanut-butter-jelly-watermelon” over the unknown track, to filling in whatever words that sound like the proper lyrics, I can fake my way through a lot of things.

Do yourself a favor: Google “Misheard Lyrics.”

You’re Welcome.

Misheard Song Lyrics (a rrt2590 event) - Imgflip

Anyways, I’ve noticed that I apply these same concepts to misheard scriptures on a regular basis. “Why am I hearing the Bible?” you may ask? Simple explanation (please click the link because it’s awesome): The Way St. Louis Bible Reading Plan

Our church is following a daily Bible reading plan, and I absolutely love it. I love it because if you click on the link above, then click today’s verses, there’s a small “volume” icon on the upper right:

When you click on the icon, an audio version of the Bible passage (by the acclaimed Max McClean) plays, which give me a fantastic way to listen to the day’s passages on my way into the office (I’d like to say that I’ve gotten holier on my commute; alas, this is not true. I’m a work in progress.). I’ve been able to stay caught up for the most part, and it’s been very thought-provoking. It’s also been a great resource to help me stay focused throughout the anxiety issues I discussed last month (which are doing MUCH better, so thank you for praying for me!!). I’ve really loved hearing the Word on a daily basis, and it’s sparked some fantastic conversations with my husband.

Yesterday, though, something very interesting happened that made me laugh, and ties into the whole, “misread lyrics” start to this blog: I misheard a Bible verse.

What I heard, though, was VERY thought provoking, and led me to pray for the people of this nation in a different way, so I’m going to go ahead and share it with you. Joel 2:12-13 states, “12“Yet even now,” declares the LORD, “return to Me with all your heart, with fasting, weeping, and mourning.” 13 So rend your hearts and not your garments, and return to the LORD your God. For He is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger, abounding in loving devotion. And He relents from sending disaster.“

What I heard, though, was, “So rend your hearts and not your governments.”

Pause–think about that, for a second. “Rend your hearts and not your governments.”

Now, I know the message in the verse itself–“don’t focus on showing outward grief or repentance for your actions; have true repentance in your hearts, and come before God with true mourning and by turning from the ways you’ve been living.” The verse is all about ending fakeness and false narratives. Be real, or don’t bother–don’t have Instagram-I’m-sorries without true, heartfelt changes. It’s particularly relevant for today’s world of staging EVERYTHING for that photo finish. God wants us to be genuine with Him–after all, He’s never been anything BUT genuine in how He loves us, right?

But check out my misheard verse again: “So rend your hearts and not your governments.” Let’s look at that, because I can’t get it out of my head:

This week, President Trump went into the hospital with COVID-19 this week. Love him or hate him, the leader of the greatest nation in the world was hospitalized with a disease that has proven fatal for thousands of people. I was shocked to read that many, many people wished him sickness and/or death, simply because they disagree with the politics/personality/policies he has implemented or statements he has made on social media.

I’m not so sure why I was shocked (minus the fact that, well….that’s kinda treasonous).

Happy Treason Day Colonial Peasants Shirt a great 4th of July Tee to wear on Independence day if you are from the United King… | Treason day, Peasant, Peasant shirt

I mean, people post how much they hate the President on a minute-by-minute basis…but to wish him death? That’s pretty obtuse. I’ve had issues with every single President that’s run this country since I was eligible to vote, and have never wished that they up-and-die; what the heck, people?!??!?

The anger and rage in this nation by any people group that feels slighted for whatever reason, is palpable. I’m not dismissing groups in that statement. I’m saying that there are SO many angry people, and SO many reasons to be angry, and SO many causes, that no one can keep track of who-what-where-why anymore, and it’s all blurring together in one giant black hole of rage that’s suffocating the country.

Anger is legitimate. It’s a legitimate emotion, & it’s worthy to be heard. God gets angry, right? Right. He also gives us specific instructions on how we handle anger, and wishing death on people doesn’t really seem to be part of the plan of action. Ephesians 4:25-26 says, “Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to his neighbor, for we are all members of one another. 26“Be angry, yet do not sin.” Do not let the sun set upon your anger.”

If we’re unhappy with our government, wishing death and violence isn’t the solution. Positive changes by positive actions are the only solution. Vote. Period. If you don’t like who’s in charge, we live in an amazing country where We the People have the rights and the abilities to make the changes we want to see.

The muppets GIF on GIFER - by Aralace

Mishearing Joel 2:13 made me stop and think about all of the comments, the snide remarks, the fighting and arguing, etc., that I’ve heard over the past few years regarding the leadership of this nation. Everyone has their agenda and is screaming to make their voice heard, but no one is listening. Our words have an impact; our words reveal the intentions of our hearts, and if we’re screaming and shouting at each other, we’re not walking in love, right?

I’m so tired of the fighting, even (especially) amongst Christians. We’re sacrificing our relationships with God and our testimonies to unbelievers in the sheepish support of a political person or party. We’re called to follow Jesus. We’re called to walk in Love, like Him. What does that look like, in a minefield of political and emotional pitfalls?

“Rend your hearts and not your governments.” I think this misheard verse has caused me to stop in my tracks and take a few steps back…I have to check my heart, and repent for some of my own attitudes. I’ve had to recommit to praying for our government and for our nation, and to process whether or not I’ve been more concerned with how my convictions have worked, verses how they have looked. What are the issues I say I care about, and what have I done to not only educate myself regarding those issues, but to advocate in love for those issues?

The online fussing and fighting is not something I get into myself, very often; however, I definitely read quite a few of them (I enjoy my tea, thank you very much–okay, that’s just not nice, Cassidy).

Your guide to the culturally appropriative tea lizard meme | Dazed

I am alternately appalled and humored by what I read, and I’m occasionally concerned that some people need hired protection based on their keyboard commando statements.

It’s not worth it. Don’t sacrifice your testimony for the dung heap of online bickering.

“Rend my hearts and not my garments.” Stay focused on what is true, honest, pure, lovely, etc. Please join me in praying that a new attitude of such things would cover this nation in grace, and that our leadership (before, during, and after the election) would be sustained and protected. Focus on real, genuine love and faith, rather than “likes” and “zings” in online forums. Maybe then, we will see the healing in this land that the Bible speaks about in 2 Chronicles 7:14, which we so desperately need in this land of anger and rage…

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

/ 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?

KAREN

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.

Honey-LaBronx-Crying-Mascara

(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).

brak

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.

GROVER

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.

coronasucks

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.

queen

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

grief

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 standards26″

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

coronacalm

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. 

shalom