He restores my soul.

Jan 2, 2017
8 min read

"Legacy is not whats left tomorrow when you are gone. Its what you give, create, impact and contribute today while you're here that then happens to live on."

I often wonder what life would be like if I still had parents to call and ask for opinions, encouragement, and advice. I wonder if I would have ever met my husband, Elijah. Would I would have grown to love nutrition and fitness or what I would be like today if I would have not had so much responsibility as a child? All of these "ifs" come to my head. But then I look at my life and realize the beauty and growth that I've gained from hardship. I often ask why? Why my family with so much joy was stripped away of their parents. In all of my whys I have found sadness, sorrow, pain and confusion. "This depth of sorrow is a healthy sign of a healthy soul, not a sick soul. Its not something to escape but to instead embrace. Jesus said 'blessed are those that mourn, for they will be comforted.'"

I was raised in a home with structure, faith, and endless love. My mom stayed at home and cared for us in every aspect. My dad was a hard worker and put a lot of energy and time into providing for his family. Faith was evident in the home and God had truly blessed my family. My mom witnessed to me and I accepted Jesus into my heart at age seven; the best decision in my life. At age 10 life was what I would call "without blemish or sorrow," I didn't know what the word grief meant nor had I known what it meant to pray persistently, and hope with all of my heart. All of this changed after a summer of moving, my dad training to become an ISP and my mom struggled to feel well physically. In the fall following that summer my mom was diagnosed with stage four ovarian cancer. It was the first time that the word cancer was relative to my vocabulary and it was something that I feared. I prayed earnestly for God to heal my mom, hoping that she may just have been bloated because she was pregnant or something else positive other than cancer. But to my families sadness, she wasn't ever going to heal, God had different plans for our future.

In April of 2005, my mom passed away from the cancer. I was age 11, and I had three siblings that were ages 14, 7, and 4. As a child, grieving is very difficult because your lookout on life is so innocent and then you are forced to feel pain that you can't bare and ultimately want to run away from. I was always a happy child and through this tragedy, I pushed myself even more to see the positive and light even in the midst of darkness. I cried everyday for at least a year, not even knowing my own emotions, I had no answer for my tears and no control over them. They just came and I learned to cope by covering them by rinsing my eyes with cold water and looking up at a light so that no one would see my sadness. I felt like I had to be strong. Would I ever be able to be a happy go lucky child again?

My childhood was short and I grew up fast. I became the homemaker...learned to cook, do laundry, care for my sisters, look after my big brother, and to make my dad happy. I got a job at 14 and started driving as soon as I was eligible; started doing the grocery shopping, meal planning, and cooking to help take the weight off of my dads shoulders. I wasn't my mom, nor did I ever want the title "mom" to be the role I had in the home because all I truly desired to be was a sister and daughter. My junior year in high school, I decided to travel to Europe and go to London, Paris and Rome for a small trip. Getting out of the home was freeing and I realized that going places gave me a break from the "mom role" in the home.

The year I graduated high school I raised enough money to go to a Bible college for one year and received my 1 year Bible certificate. I honestly had no idea what I wanted to do or become. This indecisiveness lead me through many different experiences and I was able to be a camp counselor for a whole summer in Louisiana and then came back home to Idaho and became a pre-school teacher for a year. After that year, I worked at various jobs with kids and in the fitness department at the Kroc, and in the summer at a Golf Club. I had tried to move out a couple of times with different people but God kept bringing me back to my home base in Kingston, Idaho to live with my dad and two sisters (my brother got married to a beautiful lady and no longer lived at home).

I struggled to find my identity because I looked to other things like fitness, food and people instead of who God saw me as. I became obsessed with my body and keeping it "healthy" and through that I ended up starving myself by eating mainly veggies after working out for 1-3 hours in that day. I started feeling like I couldn't control anything in life other than my diet and through it all I lost sight of who God created me to be. I dated only once and found myself pouring out more than I was receiving. I stopped pouring into my dad's home and tried to just be a daughter for once instead of the caregiver and homemaker. Journaling my prayers, frustrations, hopes and dreams started to be my outlet. God became the one person that I could cry out to and I found that it would actually clear my head.

As life continued, my dad's depression became worse and alcohol became his outlet. He had been married twice since my mom had passed and both of which the marriages ended in divorce. I felt as if my family was falling apart because of it.

At age 21, I met a man that made me laugh and had a huge heart for God. I didn't have to push him to love God, for he did that on his own. I could be myself around him and felt like I could tell him anything and he just listened. Elijah became my best friend and the love he had for my family grew us even closer. I felt like my sisters could finally see what a God fearing man looked like. And they soon looked up to him as their brother. I was in love with my best friend. My dad loved him and accepted him right away. During that year, my dad started recognizing his struggles and desired to change and find help. Life was still hard but I started feeling like I could be a daughter and my dad would actually listen; most of the time he just supported me and was excited for everything I was excited about.

September 3, 2015...the day that yet again shook my world upside down. I had just began to move out and got a new job 2 weeks prior when I got a call that morning from a family friend. She was crying on the phone and told me that I needed to go home and that my dad was lying on the side of the house. My sisters didn't go to school that day nor did I go to work. When I called my sisters they cried out "he's gone, Cass, dad's dead." Those words pierced my ears, I was in shock. I called my brother and told him and went home angry and bitter thinking that he could have killed himself out of depression and drunkenness. When I got home, I found out the reality of his death and that he had had a sudden heart attack as he was opening the gate and died while doing so. It was a sudden, easy death.

Surreal. Was this a dream? Was I really an orphan? No parents. Was life ever going to stop bringing heartache? I continued with my "positive outlook" but it became a cover for my true feelings of sorrow and grief. I still never wanted anyone to see me cry because I felt that crying was a sign of weakness and all I could see was a little girl who didn't have any reason for crying when she did.

After two months of living at the Kingston house and helping take care of my siblings, I moved out and into a home with a strong Christian woman and God made it clear to me that I needed a season of rest and healing. All of my aspirations became a blob of confusion and frustration because I felt behind from everyone else in their 20s who seemed to have it all figured out. I had fear, doubt and worry. I was honestly like a lost sheep who had no home, no purpose, and no father or shepherd to guide me. I wondered how long I would have to rest. Resting did not come naturally for me, so I struggled to even stay in one place without running errands or meeting up with someone. During that time is when Psalm 23 became so real to me and I knew that the only way for restoration was to rest and face the darkness instead of finding ways to run.

Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. 2 He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. 3 He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness For His name’s sake.

4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; My cup runs over. 6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me All the days of my life; And I will dwell[a] in the house of the Lord Forever.

At that time, I thought that a season of rest meant a month or so until the holidays had passed, but here I am over a year later and am finally feeling rested. I married my best friend in October and being a wife has been the most rewarding feeling. I can finally be a homemaker, wife and sister. I have realized more than ever that God is my Father, and that He is truly a good good Father and cares, provides, and blesses His children. God has brought me to a place with still waters, where I have found rest and restoration.