WILLING > ABLE

 

For as long as I can remember, I’ve woken with a song in my heart.  I know it sounds crazy.  It’s like my own personal radio. The song can be anything, from some song I haven’t heard in years to the latest radio hits.  Sometimes it’s the song chorus, sometimes its the bridge, sometimes just the melody without words.  Just this week I began to listen, I mean really listen, to what song is playing again and again in my head.    

I’m choosing to chronicle those songs with a visual and a scripture. (screenshot from instagram)

Day 1:  “Your love is wild for me”

Day 2:  “He whispers in my ear, tells me that I’m fearless”

Day 3:  “Every fear, every doubt disappears when you shine on us”

Day 4:  “We’re transformed by this one thing, to know your presence, to see your beauty”

Day 5:  “Like a might storm, stir within my soul, Lord have your way in me”

Day 6:  “You delight in showing mercy & mercy triumphs over judgement”

And today:  

Lyrics from: “You Make Me Brave” by Bethel Music & Amanda Cook

 

Whoomp, there it is…  You see, I’ve been running again.  Well, not so much actively running because that’s not a thing, but I’ve been avoiding.  I’m avoiding my God time.  I’m avoiding my writing which feels like the gift it is when the words flow, and it feels like torture in the waiting for God to give me inspired words. 

Every post you read here is inspired writing because every time I try to write in my own power, the words are limp and just NO.  Those don’t get posted.  They seem fake and forced. 

I’ve been questioning why I’m avoiding these things and it’s because I worry that if I sit down and begin writing, maybe God won’t show up.  I fully realize that he wants me to wrestle with this myself sometimes and really seek him, but what if I actually don’t have anything good or inspiring or real to share? 

Then the truth hits me:  I don’t.  I don’t have anything good or inspiring or real to share without his help. 

But wait, there’s good news!  If I really seek him and make a habit to seek him regularly, he gives me things to say.  When my study time is lacking, so is everything else.  I can’t tell you how many times I will have to learn this lesson to really GET it because here I am again. 

This is the first morning in months that I have actually gotten up at my “surrender” time: 4:30.  He has been nudging me awake for weeks and I would drag out of bed around 5:30 and give it a half-hearted effort.  Then today, he nudged me awake with a bit of wind, hail and thunder at 4:08.  It’s totally fine.  He has to talk to me like that sometimes because I act clueless otherwise. 

The storm blew over in just a few minutes, and yes, I thought pretty seriously about going back to sleep for another hour and a half, but I didn’t.  I got up.  I read my devotional and felt completely uninspired.  Please tell me this happens to you too? 

Then I listened to what was going on in my head.  I heard the distant refrains of “You Make Me Brave.”  I was unimpressed.  I felt like, “Really?  That one is so not new and it’s been one of my favorites that I played so much I’m almost tired of it.”  Then I googled it for scripture references and ran across this video about the backstory of the song.  I immediately knew that the backstory was exactly what I was supposed to be hearing.  In it, Amanda Cook, the writer, shares about how her song writing is actually prophetic for her life.  She discovers truths as she writes.  Then, she says this,

“Any writing becomes an anthem because somebody took a chance, you know, embraced something and let it embody them and they stewarded the work by becoming it and then, all of a sudden, it gave people courage to actually become it themselves.” 

Wow. 

That is exactly why I want to write.  The words begin as words that are for me and they apply to my life, but I can’t keep them to myself.  They are meant to be shared with others!  In my crazy ramblings, I hope and pray that you are inspired to dig a little deeper and listen to the actual thoughts in your head. 

Are they truth or lies? 

Are you running from something?  Why? 

I’m betting if you dig deep enough, you will find lies from Satan at the core of that avoidance because it’s not God.  We know that perfect love drives out fear, so that rules him out. 

Identify your lies, find and seek the truth, and then show up.  Whatever that means for you.  Maybe it’s writing or speaking or singing or leading a group.  Maybe it’s being a light for your family, your students, your community…  You don’t have to be spectacular, you just have to be willing!  Let God’s truth make you brave and just show up.

Forgiveness & Freedom

Forgiveness is really, really hard sometimes.  I’ll start there.  Sometimes when someone wrongs you, it seems like forgiveness is letting them off the hook or saying what they did to hurt you was ok.  It doesn’t seem like the natural response to being wronged.  The natural response is to hold a grudge, build resentment, and put a pot of anger on to simmer.  I’ll admit, the natural response is SO natural that I don’t always realize that I’m doing it; but more often, the truth is, I know I’m choosing it and I continue to choose it. 

There are many fatal flaws in holding on to anger, but the one that I always notice first is that anger clouds my perspective.  And it doesn’t just cloud my perspective regarding the person I’m angry at!  Anger is tricky.  It doesn’t only affect one specific issue or “target”; it bleeds over and I start to feel angry at everything.  I’m angry in the morning.  I’m angry all day.  I’m angry in the evening.  I have angry dreams and the cycle continues.  For a few days I can ignore it and chalk it up to being tired.

Then I notice that I let my bible study and prayer time slip.  It’s been a full week since I got up to spend time with God.  I was pondering this as I took a shower this morning.  Why would my being angry with someone impede time with God?  I went through all the possibilities mentally:

*God’s mad at me. (No, that’s not it…)

*God has distanced himself from me. (He doesn’t do that either)

*God is giving me the silent treatment. (Still not it.)

No, those things were me.  I’m frustrated with God because he isn’t “punishing” this person I’m mad at.  I realize this sounds really, really crazy, but anger doesn’t seem to make me any more reasonable than usual.  This is ridiculous thinking because if God punished someone every time they did something to make someone angry, I would be punished constantly because parenting means making your kids mad (and obviously I’m such an angel that I never make anyone else mad. *sarcasm font!*)

When I finally boil it all down, I have been distancing myself from God by avoiding my study time because I know it’s me.  I know that I will “coincidentally” stumble across some verse that resonates and tells me that I am only responsible for my reaction. That God will fight my battles for me.  That he loves me perfectly.  That I should not let the sun go down on my anger.  That anger is one of the seven deadly sins for a reason.  I’m avoiding God because I don’t want to be reminded how Jesus responded to opportunities to be angry and how we are to forgive just as we have been forgiven. 

The problem is that I am creating my own prison by choosing to harbor anger.  It’s destroying me from the inside out.  It eats at me.  The person I am mad at only sees the evidence of my anger; my angry feelings are all my own.  Spewing spitefulness and revenge will not fix this situation.  In fact it will only make it worse. 

I cannot fix it on my own. 

I cannot undo what has been done, but I can do something. 

I can free myself from the shackles of anger. 

I can choose forgiveness and then let it go. 

I used to think that I wasn’t capable of forgiveness because it was never instantaneous.  I would forgive and then wonder why I still felt angry, but eventually I learned that forgiveness is a choice that we make again and again, as many times as it takes.  And we don’t have to do it alone.  We can tell God about our anger.  It’s ok.  He knows.  And he will provide gentle reminders of how much he loves us and how much he wants us to love others.  Yes, even those who make us angry. 

We won’t do it perfectly on this side of heaven, but that’s ok.  God loves us anyway.  He has forgiven us even before we needed to be forgiven.  It was all paid for.  Every bit of it. 

I can rest in the fact that I don’t have to use anger to manipulate situations.  Grace and forgiveness speak louder than anger ever could.

Today I am choosing to release myself from these walls I’ve been building.  Today I’m choosing grace over disappointment and forgiveness over anger.  Today, I am free!

“Be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you.” – Ephesians 4:32

Love,

Facebook & Fancy-Free (With FOMO)

Day .5 (Never discount the small victories…)

I’m not a fasting person.  The only fast I’ve ever participated in is the fast from dinner to breakfast the next morning, so you can imagine my surprise when our pastor challenged us to fast from something for 28 days and fill the void with God.  I mean, I knew I was fine because God had already asked me to get up at 4:30.  Go to a new (denominational) church.  Create a website.  Get to writing.  Have a photo session for headshots for a blog that is limping along and a book and a website that don’t yet exist.  I knew I would be safe this time.  HA!  I was on point already.  Nothing I needed to set aside.  Surrender?  CHECK!

Then I heard it.  His small whisper. I might have done a “what now” slow blink with a deep sigh.   Facebook.  Yeah.  That..

I know by now how this ends.  Instead of refusing entirely, I decide to make deals and add restrictions, like a timeshare vacation.  No, I have no shame.

Me:  “Ok, God.  Yes.  I will limit my time to one hour a day.  I will set my timer.  1. Hour.”

God:  “That’s not what I asked you to do.”

Me:  Surely this can not be.  “But God, I don’t want  people to think that I’m ignoring them or that something is wrong!”

God:  “Something IS wrong.”

Me:   “Fine.  I will only check my notifications to be sure I’m not ignoring anyone overtly.”

God:  “That’s not what I asked you to do.”

Me:  “What if they think I’m ignoring them?” (Read, I don’t know what to do with myself without social media)

God:  “Who are you performing for? Me?  Or people?”

Me:  “Well, you know “perform” doesn’t feel like the right word…”

God:  Raised eyebrows…

Me:  “Fine.”

Immediately after church I logged onto Facebook.  (One last time, OK?  Maybe I have a problem! )  I checked my notifications and let my RealTalk tribe know why I was AWOL, then I deleted the app on my phone. 

I cannot even count the number of times I have reached for my phone to check Facebook since noon yesterday.  Probably 50.  My first instinct was to log on as soon as I woke up this morning.  That’s when I realized it had truly gotten out of hand.  Facebook was my first thought in the morning.  I mean, I love y’all, but you’re no Jesus!  He needs to be my first waking thought!  My savior and the lover of my soul deserves at least that!

In case you’re concerned I am seriously off my rocker, I do NOT intend to delete social media entirely.  I think it can be a very effective tool if I’m the one in control.  But I’m not.  I work my life around facebook.  I fit it in anytime, everywhere, no matter what.  I think 28 days will give me a good reset and help me get it under control.  (insert trepidation and reluctance)

Furthermore, if you clicked on this link through facebook, do not fear, I have not already gone belly up on my Facebook fast!  My blog automatically links up.   It feels a little like cheating, but in order to undo that share, I would have to log on to Facebook!

Now, I know you are probably like I was.  I avoided reading blogs from crazy people who did away with social media and who told me why I should do the same.  This is NOT one of those blogs.  This is simply MY story. 

If you feel urged to do the same, by all means, go right ahead!  We can be in social media detox together.  We can rely on old fashioned technology like texting to keep in touch.  We can email.   Write letters.  Send smoke signals or telegrams.  

If you have no “buddy”, GET IN TOUCH WITH ME.  I will be your buddy.  We can suffer through FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) together!  I’m serious, y’all!  (Since Im not on Facebook right now, you can expect to see a lot of “y’all’s” everywhere.  That word is my next favorite thing!  I seriously hope that God does not ask me to stop using it.  Y’all!)

What the heck?  Keep your social media if you choose and still get in touch with me.  I’m going to die from FOMO over here for the next 28 days.  Help!

Love,

Facebook & Fancy Free (With FOMO)

Cassandra

God’s Not Mad at You

We all have secrets. Little things or big things we don’t want other people to know about us. Things that we only share with the people who know us best. Or maybe even no one at all. Those secrets are killing us. Satan uses those secrets to keep us from reaching out because, “What would people think?” “They would disown me.” “People would judge me.” And worst of all, “I am ashamed.”

These secrets hold power because they keep us quiet and they keep us from being completely real with people because rejection hurts. Judgement hurts. So we hold on to those secrets like they are precious jewels we are afraid to let out of our sight because if someone found out, we think, these secrets would destroy us. This is a LIE. A lie straight from Satan to keep us quiet and isolated. He likes that. If I am preoccupied with protecting my secret, I keep friends at arms length. I avoid church. I feel unworthy. I bully myself with mean thoughts. I call myself names. I feed MYSELF the lies. Satan has to do nothing more to destroy me. He can just sit back and watch me beat myself up until I’m in a dark and lonely place. One where I’ve run so far from God that I feel like I couldn’t turn and face him now. One where my soul is dying.

PLEASE STOP THE LIES. These are ALL lies. These lies fester and prevent healing, like dirt in a sore.

No one is innocent. We all have our secrets and it’s time to silence our inner-bully and share these secrets. God will listen to you. He doesn’t care how far you’ve wandered. It grieves him to see his children hurting and running in shame. Cry out to him. Lift your head. God isn’t mad at you. He loves you. No matter what you’ve done, he is waiting for you, and he already knows what you’ve done. You don’t even have to run TO him because he is there waiting. All you have to do is turn around and cry out for him. God is for the broken. He doesn’t wait for the broken to come crawling back after they have “fixed” themselves. He wants to love you in your brokenness. Right now.

I am reminded of the story of the Prodigal Son in the Bible (Luke 15: 11-32). A man has two sons. One does all the “right things” and the other goes a little wild and squanders his wealth and winds up far from home and starving. Eventually the wild son realizes that even his fathers’ servants have food to eat so he decides to return and ask to be a servant. The father sees his son returning to him and he begins to RUN to his son. No anger, no malice. Just love. That was all that was waiting for the son who had gone astray. That’s how God waits for us. In love, not anger. He forgives and all you have to do is turn around. In the story of the prodigal son, the “right” son is ticked that his father would throw a celebration for his wayward brother.   The father says to him, “We had to celebrate this happy day. For your brother was dead and has come back to life! He was lost, but now he is found! (Luke 5:32, NLT)”

God wants to celebrate your return. He is waiting for you to turn to him and let his truth wash over you so that you, too, can be found, can come back to life!

You are loved.

You are wanted.

You are cherished.

You are worth pursuing.

You are worthy.

You are forgiven.

You are celebrated.

You. Are. Enough.

Love,

Cassandra

Why You Should Jump

Grace HATED swimming. I mean REALLY hated it. When she was 3 my parents got a pool. Not a super huge pool, but an above ground pool. We would go to MeMe and PaPa’s house to swim and the kids were pumped!  Even Grace! After I got all 4 kids in their suits and sunblocked (it’s a word now) I needed a nap they couldn’t contain their excitement! I could hardly keep up with the boys who were standing by the pool and climbing precariously all over the ladder waiting for me to get suited up.

Grace, Age 3

Finally I gave the all clear and the boys converged on the pool while Grace toddled along behind me with her ruffly suit, bouncy pigtails and pink sunglasses. On this particular day, I followed the boys in and then waited for Grace to climb the ladder and come to me so I could hold her. After dusting her feet off with her little chubby hands, she climbed the ladder and sat down on the top platform, refusing to come any further. When I reached for her she started to panic and cry. Thinking I could get her to calm down and adjust, I grabbed her anyway and put her firmly on my hip where she was only thigh high in the water. If she were a cat, I would’ve been scratched to death. She had that same cat-in-water panicky look in her eyes. She clung to me and wrapped herself around me and did a weird cry/hyperventilate thing.  She might be melodramatic.  I don’t know where she gets it.   I tried distracting her with toys.  That failed.  I tried to turn her away from me to show her how to splash around and she WAS NOT having that either.  I couldn’t convince her that I would not let her go, that I was with her. After about a half hour of clinging and crying, I finally gave up and put her on the ladder where she happily sat perched on the platform and watched the rest of us play in the water.

I can’t help but think about how I look just like Grace when God tries to put me in an unfamiliar situation. I may not be literally kicking and screaming, but inside I’m not willing to do what I need to do because I’m stubborn scared.  Just like I did for Grace, God goes before us and prepares the way. It is so easy to forget that he is right there, holding us, just like I was right there with Grace that day. I would never have let anything happen to her. If only she would have relaxed a bit, she could’ve seen that she was safe, that swimming is fun! Likewise, there are times in my life where I just need to relax and be still.  Be still and know that HE is GOD.

Grace eventually, after a whole summer of cat-like swimming trips, learned to love swimming. Now she’s right there with her brothers splashing and playing. And me? I’m sitting on the edge just watching. Ready in case she needs me.

Kids on the pool deck. NO MORE TEARS!

So if you feel like you are drowning in your problems or that you’ve sinned too much for God to love you, he is there, watching, just waiting for you to accept his grace and love. He loves you JUST. LIKE. YOU. ARE. What are you waiting for? Don’t just dip your toes, jump in!

Love,

Cassandra

How Foster Care Wrecked My Life

 

I said it. It wrecked my life. I could never say it before because foster parenting isn’t supposed to be anything but wonderful and any time you mention your family dynamics (that your parents are foster parents) people gush over how wonderful it is and how they are doing something just amazing, so you can do nothing but smile and agree. But in your heart there’s a little grimace and then guilt because you aren’t supposed to feel anything but great about the fact that your parents are also parenting other kids. Kids who aren’t always excited to be part of your awesome family. Kids who require your parents’ time. Kids who don’t like you. Kids you don’t even really like.

My Parents

My parents started fostering when I was 16 and I will admit that I was pretty spoiled.  I had just gotten my first car, a 10-year-old 1986 Toyota Corolla and everything was just right.  Then my parents decided to become foster parents. I was ok with it at first because I knew helping people was a good thing. What I didn’t know was the turmoil that these kids dealt with.

Soon, the first kids arrived. The first one was close to my age and she wasn’t so bad. In fact, we kind of liked each other. The first incident I remember feeling really terrible about was when she found a picture of us with my dad that I had torn up. Looking back I can see that it was a really hurtful thing to do, but in my 16-year-old mind it seemed like Dad liked her more because she worked with him at the shop and liked to do outside stuff. I was all girl and only occasionally chose to work with Dad so when they started to click it bothered me. I was, after all, biological. (Yes, I’m cringing now).

So my world was changing and I wasn’t the center anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t ignored, but my parents were pretty busy helping kids work through the Hard Stuff they lived through. I was mostly indifferent to their stories because I felt like they should move on and do what they were told. It wasn’t THAT hard to do your school work and your chores and behave!  (again, cringe). Mom and Dad spent a lot of time talking with kids, redirecting kids, and taking kids along to do the things that I had asked to do. And I didn’t like that because it wasn’t ALL about me.

The hardest part, even harder than sharing your parents, was always the thanklessness of what they did. They accepted other kids as their own, taught them, laughed with them, cried with them, spent money on them, loved them, and most of the time they got NO thanks in return. Mom and Dad never let that stop them. They kept right on loving them through it. And I had to watch their love and efforts be rejected time and time again. I hated it.

I am glad to say that as time went by, my heart softened and I saw the example of unconditional love my parents showed these kids and I finally HEARD their stories. Stories of neglect and abuse and death and desperation. None of these kids CHOSE their circumstances. They were truly victims.  I started to understand that Mom and Dad went easier on these kids because they had different backgrounds and they needed more love than discipline at times, not because they were “new” and they liked them more.

My life was wrecked. I found out that these kids had bigger worries than mine. Their life was hard, truly hard. Some were hard to like, some were easier, but what really mattered was that they were loved.

These lessons changed me.  I learned how to communicate with a huge variety of personalities.  I learned to be sensitive to kids who weren’t living the dream. I learned a lot about how to love those that are hard to love and how to keep on reaching out even when people shut you down. I learned to pick my battles because every battle is not worth fighting.

Me and mine, parents, fosters, bios. Which is which? Doesn’t matter!

To the first: I am so sorry. I know that I hurt you. I am proud of you. You have faced many hard things, but you have overcome them all. You are a great momma! I love you.

To the young mother: I’m sorry I was judgmental. It wasn’t my place. Thank you for having the grace enough to overlook it. I think of you often and enjoy the memories of all the laughter you brought to our home. I love you.

To the boy who became a man I am proud to call my brother: I’m sorry I was hard to love. Thank you for ignoring that and loving me anyway. You always made me laugh. I love you.

To the ones in college or out living your life: Look at you! You’re doing it! You are making good decisions and fighting for what you want. I see you happy and finding your way in this world! I’m proud of you!

To all of the others (250+): I have learned something from each of you.  Whether it was to be thankful for what I have or to find joy in the small things, there is a small part of you that has forever shaped me and helped to rub off some of my “sharp edges.” Thank you.

To Mom and Dad: Don’t cry (too late, I know). I know I have been less than supportive at times, but I learned from you. More than just “be responsible.” I’ve learned to do hard things and not to give up. I’ve learned how to love people no matter what (I’m still practicing!). I’ve seen grace in action time and time again by watching you. Thank you. I love you.

There you have it. My life was wrecked, turned upside down. And I’m better because of it.

There is a serious shortage of homes both foster and adoptive across the country. Here in Arkansas there is a current campaign to raise money and awareness for kids who need homes. www.fosterarkansas.org

March 11, 2016 Update:  To see the new (related) thing God is doing in our family, you want to read this: BIG Prayers… And a BIG Reveal!

Love,

Cassandra

Stop doing and BE!

Today we went to the spring.  I watched the water gush up from the ground and I noticed that the sound of the water was so loud we could barely hear each other speak. I asked my dad if he could remember if the spring had ever run dry.  He said that it hadn’t.  Then I thought of the spring like the fountain of grace. Grace is always there, always flowing just like the spring. And if we let it, it will wash over us and drown out the noise of our failures. 

  

God doesn’t ask for, expect or anticipate perfection any more than I ever believed my own children would be complete and perfect angels growing up.  I’m not completely disillusioned!  I knew when they were born that they would break the rules sometimes and they would make some stupid decisions, we all do! It’s part of growing up. (I will try to remember to refer back to this post next time I want to twist their heads off!) I also knew that I would never stop loving them even when (not if) they messed up.  And how much more does God love us?  

Part of being human is screwing up. We are by nature imperfect!  And he knew that before we were created!  We mess up and in our shame choose to turn away from grace because we know we aren’t worthy. But just like the spring flows all day, every day, all year, and in every season, Gods grace is there for us.  And it is patient. It will NEVER run dry, and it will always be there, constantly waiting for us and we just have to accept it. Bask in it. Let it wash us and drown out the voices in our head and our failures screaming, “You screwed up. Again!” 

God chooses to see us as more than our failures.  He looks past them and he wants us to stop defining ourselves by what we did wrong this week or what we aren’t doing or what we should be doing and stop focusing on the DOING and just be. Be forgiven, be his, be whole. Because if we can’t forgive ourselves and accept Gods grace for us, then how can we extend his grace to others?  

Love,

Cassandra

To My Firstborn

Zeke,

It’s 4 a.m. and I’m awake, thinking of you, my firstborn child. I remember the day you were born. Daddy and I had been married only a few months at that time. He was 21 and I had only just turned 19. When they put you in my arms, I cried. Daddy cried. Meme and Papa cried. You were perfect!  We wanted to be good parents. And for awhile, we were. We did it all right. Sleeping in the crib. Weaning you from the bottle and potty training early. Holding firm expectations as you went through the threes and fours. And then you started school and that’s where I think we really went wrong. We were so hard on you and you were just a baby. At 5 years old, I had high expectations for you.   And high hopes, but my expectations for you were maybe not always fair. As I write this I am sobbing, listening to the fan drone in the background and my heart hurts because I feel like I was there for discipline and expectations but I wasn’t there for YOU, haven’t been there for you.

On the day you were born

I remember once when you were in third grade and I picked you up from choir practice and you had skinned your chin running on the side walk . When you got in the car, I was frustrated because I had to wait on you and the other kids in the car were crying in their car-seats ready to get home. And what did I say before I asked if you were okay? “Where were you?” Nice one, mom. I did feel bad for you, in fact as I was retelling your daddy the events of the day (he was deployed) I cried because I hated it that you were hurting, but I didn’t often let you see that side of me. I don’t know why. I’ve been selfish as you were growing up, probably because I was so young when I had you, but that hasn’t been fair to you. Now you ‘re 13. It feels like a “Cat’s in the cradle” moment. Now that I see it, is it too late? Did I let it go on for too long? Have you slipped through my grasp just as I start to reach for you? I am so sorry.

3rd Grade. What a great smile!

In the last few months, we have finally gone back to church. We should have been going all along, but I have more selfish excuses for that. What I’ve been learning there is about GRACE. God’s truth shows us when we screw up and his grace allows us to make amends and to try again and to not beat ourselves up. That’s the hardest part for me. My thoughts are bullies and if I listen to them instead of God’s grace, then I just keep messing up and doing it wrong because I feel guilty and guilt puts me in a bad mood and then I choose to keep acting out of anger/guilt instead of grace.  But instead, God’s grace says, “It’s okay, you didn’t mean to, I STILL LOVE YOU. I HAVE ALWAYS LOVED YOU. I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU. Try again.”

Age 13, My big handsome after a band concert

And so through the lens of God’s grace, I reflect again. I can see that we haven’t ruined you completely, Zeke. I see glimpses of God in you. You seek justice. You aren’t afraid to stand up for what is right. You have a braveness to seek the truth and to speak the truth to others. I admire that about you. And it is a regular occurrence for your teachers and other adults in your life to brag on you. They say you are SUCH a good boy, which I know is the truth but I don’t say it enough. Sure you screw up and I have your ipod more than you do, but you’re just learning to navigate this life and if God can extend me grace, how can I NOT share it with you? It’s okay, you didn’t mean to. I STILL LOVE YOU. I HAVE ALWAYS LOVED YOU. I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU. Keep trying…

Love,

Mommy ♥

A letter you wrote to your 8th grade teacher to introduce yourself. Very impressive!

Grace for Today

My insufficiencies are astounding, really. I’ve always strived for perfection, and if it’s not perfect, it’s not good enough and I would rather not bother with it. I am clearly a very flexible and reasonable person.

 8 Ways That I Suck Could Use Some Improvement:

1. My house looks like feral children have locked the adults in the closet somewhere.

2. The laundry is lying laying (? Oh well) on the couch and the laundry in the washer has spoiled 3 times. I wish I was exaggerating. You can’t make this stuff up!

3. I loathe cooking so I always feel guilty about not wanting to cook for my family. (If you come to my house once I will cook for you. Twice? Cereal. You’ve been warned.)

4. Sometimes I yell and I’m generally impatient. (I know this is a real shocker. Just take a moment to soak up this revelation.)

5. I’m way out of shape. (Please tell me there is a diet which contains mainly pasta, rice, bread, and tortillas.  And especially white gravy.)

6. I can’t even with my truck. (Just think exploded closet + crumbs and random fries from who knows when. Also, if you need shoes, I have several various sizes with me at all times. And maybe I have an issue with hoarding wal-mart receipts to scan with my money-finding app.  Okay, fine, I probably do.)

7. Budget? I did that. In January.

8. Don’t get me started on my school work. (I refuse to acknowledge that it even exists.  Right now, I’m mentally on the beach far, far away from here.)

I could go on. But I’ve noticed that the more I focus on my shortfalls, the more shortfalls I can list. And the more I list, the less I want to work on them and it becomes a downward spiral where I am paralyzed by my insufficiencies. Even Netflix and noodles can’t console me.

Then when I’m down and I can’t find it in myself to do ANYTHING and even finding a new series on Netflix becomes an overwhelming task, I begin to meditate on what I KNOW (ok, I call my mom and she reminds me, but whatever!). What is TRUTH. And the truth is that grace is messy and I don’t deserve it and I never will. It’s SUCH an amazingly wonderful thing that grace can’t be earned because I would never be able to earn it because, well? I wouldn’t even deserve a participation ribbon!  And I certainly don’t allow myself the grace to be less than perfect. But God doesn’t expect perfect! In fact, if I were perfect I would never need to seek him, which means that my insufficiencies are the very reason that I turn to the truth.  Even better? I WAS DESIGNED JUST THIS WAY! (I’m still trying to convince my husband!)

And the whole grace thing? It’s a process and I have to remind myself that no one, NO ONE but me, expects perfection. My thoughts are the hardest to convince because they are always there, ready to point out my shortfalls and make me question myself. Even now they are saying, “Who are YOU to be talking about this? What do YOU have to offer?” Well, since I have to remind myself of grace on a (very) regular basis, then someone else might need to hear it too.

So, whoever you are and whatever guilt you are carrying, no matter how many times you have washed that load in your washer and skipped the bills for another day, and stepped over messes and yelled at your kids or your spouse or at the cars in the car line, no matter how many times you have missed church or failed to pick up your Bible, YOU ARE ENOUGH.  There’s plenty of grace for you today and every. single. day after!

Love,

Cassandra ♥