Mommys prayers

May I never see a hungry or thirsty soul and turn my head away as if I did not see. May I never do unto others exactly as they have done to me. Can I truly be your child if I fail to continue in your love? I am a mother even if my children have no idea that I ever existed that does not negate the fact that I am the one who gave them life. I was the vessel chosen to bring them into this world and my love for them will never change. Even long after I am gone my children will remain. Nicholas , Aiden Destiny mommy pleads for you on her knees.

Candace Casey aka Cccasey5150

God’s Love

God’s love is unlimited untouched by the boundaries of time and space and every obstacle that may stand in its way.  With every cloud, with every flower with every breeze God expresses the depths of His love to me.  Human love pales in comparison God loved us enough to sacrifice his own son. Where we fall short he comes to our side, he is our shelter from the storm. In the chill of a blizzard he keeps our hearts warm. Though the world around us may fail to understand we will ever seek his face and obey his commands. United under the banner of Divine love we will ever seek our God Above. His love echoes and resounds throughout all eternity it is what empowers us as we bow on our knees. His love alone provides tranquility and peace. Love divine joy unspeakable overflowing from the heart of grace , bringing true liberty to the fallen human race.  I am my beloved’s and he is mine, his banner over me is love-Song of Songs-

Candace Casey aka Cccasey5150

Not a perfect ten? Thank God!

This may seem rather silly but yesterday my husband and I had a conversation about the practice of grading a womans attractiveness on a scale from one to ten. It started innocently enough with us watching the 8th season of How I met your mother. Barney stintson gave his laser tag crew some archaicly horriffying advice in my estimation by telling them to “bang a nickel for every dime” they slept with. I told my husband that I do not like the practice of grading a woman by her looks on a scale from one to ten because it implies that a womans only worth lies in her physical appearance. To which my husband responded that I was an 8 , and instead of feeling offended that he graded me on a scale I felt deeply wounded that in his eyes I was not a ten. Now all of this may sound strange but I cried for over an hour because I told my husband that I am used to not being thought of as “good enough” by the average guy. They all want a girl who looks like a Supermodel and a girl missing a limb no matter how traditionally feminine or pretty she might be is just not going to fit that ideal for most men. Deep at my very core I however am a hopeless romantic. My husband initially caught my eye because he seemed drawn to all the attributes the average man found repulsive in me. He not only appreciated my intelligence he made me feel like he felt as though we could learn from each other.In retrospect his unwillingness to feign agreeing with me when he did not just further endeared him to me.I saw in him the other half of my own identity.So my husband looks at me and says: “Baby, why are you crying?” I told him because your words make me feel like I am inadequate. To which he replies you misunderstood what I meant, I did not call you  A ten , because to me no human being could be a perect ten. That is an honor that belongs to God alone. Then I looked up and realized my husband hit on something quite profound and I realized that I grow more in love with this amazing man every day. I also find myself realizing that when he called me an 8 he was not referring to something as fleeting as my physical beauty.He was referring to the inner beauty of my heart and I had a revelation: If my husband saw me as a ten , not only would he becoming very close to idolizing me (which I do not want) that would create a certain amount of pressure for me to live up to that at all times. Any time my behavior became less than stellar I would become demoted in his eyes. So I am glad he gave me the cushion of not having to live up to those last two points because it means I am allowed to make mistakes. I am allowed to be a klutz. I am allowed to sometimes burn dinner and order takeout . Hes ok with the fact that sometimes I get the flu or forget to do the dishes. I can leave the laundry unfolded or ask him to feed the cat.There is actually a great deal of freedom in being with someone who recognizes that he is not perfect and does not expect you to be either.💑💑💑

Candace Casey aka Cccasey5150

My only Hope

Through the years I have depended on you. Your love is all that has brought me through. Rivers of tears have fallen from my eyes You were my only truth amidst a world of lies. Broken dreams have shattered my soul. Your ways have made me complete your grace has made me whole. When my dreams fell around me like the leaves falling from a tree you were there to comfort me. Alone, you walked with me every mile you were the only hope to this hopeless child. Living without your love I would have given up.When I felt my broken heart could not cope you are my only hope.

Candace Casey aka Cccasey5150

The Journey

Last night I rested in the arms of God I cried in the embrace of the Almighty. He told my broken heart of things to come How my life will glorify the risen one. Beauty was found in his embrace Heaven aglow in the expression upon my face.Peace amidst lifes trials , joy amidst the pain, beauty in the chaos laughter in the rain.”My child dont grow weary, the voice of my savior said for at the end of the journey I will place a golden crown upon your head.🌹🌹🌹

Candace Casey aka Cccasey5150

Ableism in the auditorium my stance on bullying

I will never forget the most embarassing moment of my life no it wasn’t the time I fell flat on my face during the sugar plum fairy dance or even the first time an 8th grade boy informed me that I had started my period. No it was the day our principal , Larry Nagelli made me stand up during an assembly in fifth grade in front of several schools in our district to brag about how no one in our school made fun of the one armed chick.I am certain that he felt this was proof of his success as a principal and merely wanted to brag about how amazing his students were that however was not how I viewed this experience. One of the greatest things to me about being a student at Ballico Elementary was never feeling like an outsider. Yet my principals decision to make an example out of my not being bullied only served to reinforce how different from the other students I really was. In any case I am not entirely sure how I felt knowing that my principal thought the other students deserved accolades for treating me like a human being. I was more than anything taken aback at the hidden message behind the act:”bullying is the norm, my students are not bullies my students deserve recognition and praise.” Until I left Ballico behind to navigate the waters of Livingston middle school bullying was just a concept for me.
Several things about LMS were different :1. At Ballico the popular kids were the ones who studied , got good grades and competed in Sports.2 In Livingston these kids were made fun of branded as school girls or school boys. In Ballico which was a fairly small school my disability had somehow almost granted me “celebrity ” status not neccesarily popularity because of my shyness but a certain amount of prestige because I was different. 3)In Livingston no one cared I was just another brainy white chick who hung out with other brainy white chicks. I was thus considered “uncool”that was another thing. Livingston was a predominantly hispanic town and I was one of the few non bilingual students even the full blooded white students knew more Spanish than I did. (My father is bilingual but I was raised by my mother I know very little Spanish) 3.In Ballico former gang members came to our assemblies to deter us from joining gangs.4) In Livingston the most popular kids all claimed to be Nortenos even those without hispanic or mestizo blood lines. 5.In Ballico the more popular girls were always pretty, studious and polite.In Livingston the popular girls were shallow, vapid and mean. 6.I had seen some of the white students bully the Mexican students at Ballico In Livingston it was that situation in reverse and it was almost the entire school. A good friend of mine was even thrown across the room while still in her own chair. This was during Ms Sally’s 4th period math class. Ms Sally had been my favorite teacher because I was in her home room and English class and she introduced me to some great books like The Tale of the last Samurai. I am not gonna lie though watching our fourth period math class walk all over her did not solidify her role as an authority figure in my young impressionable mind . Don’t get me wrong I still thought she was an amazing woman but it is my firm conviction that effective leaders do not tolerate bullying. At the root of all forms of bullying is a heart that is malicious and cruel.I have read the following quote on facebook:”We will never get rid of bullying it is time we stop dying our kids in cotton wool and teach them to stand up for themselves”. There is a number of assumptions in this statement .1That standing up to a bully automatically means the bullying will stop. I faced similar advice when bullied as a teen when advised to just ignore them they will go away the truth was however that both strategies infuriated my attackers and made them more vehemently pursue me. There is also a not so subtle message that bullying is a normal socially acceptable type of behavior while allowing bullying to bother you makes you weak. It ignores the simple fact that the definition of bullying is to deliberately torment and torture someone who is weaker and smaller than you. In very real terms bullying is a form of habitual abuse. The bible clearly teaches us that we are to treat others how we want to be treated. I am fairly certain that there is no one on the planet who wants to constantly be treated like a human punching bag.I am also certain that if Jesus himself saw Roman soldiers tormenting Zaccheus he would not just stand idly by or tell Zacheuss to “toughen up”. To be a man or woman after God’s  own heart means that what grieves him grieves us. There is no way that the Holy Spirit is ok with one person belittling or tormenting another. Beyond that I have heard a great deal of preaching on the insidiousness of gossip another supposedly “harmless”sin.Bullying wreaks no less havoc on a person’s life. In fact in many instances bullying when taken to extremes has led to suicide.
There is a common misconception that the victims of bullying are somehow “weak” because they have been targeted by those percieved to be strong. The truth however remains that for too long an environment where people are publicly tormented has been allowed to prevail. Whether the Majority of parents realize it  or not the most effective way to combat bullying is not by ignoring that the problem exists.It is by creating an environment that promotes the idea that bullying is not cool. Burying our heads in the sand like ostritches or looking the other way does nothing to accomplish that. In fact I have discovered that the most powerful deterrent for the tyrannical rule of a bully is not in fact even for the victims themselves to speak up .It is for the bully’s own friends to let him know that bullying is unacceptable. This is what I refer to as positive peer pressure and it works. It is effective because behind a great deal of bullying is a desire to climb the social hierarchy ladder by allowing the bully to know that his or her behavior is counterproductive to achieving that goal undesirable behavior is nipped in the bud. I believe very strongly that bullying is abuse and abuse is never to be tolerated, excused or ignored. In conclusion bullying is no different than any other type of abuse. It does not occur because the victim did anything to provoke the attack. It also does not occur because the victim is inherently weak. It occurs because it is allowed to and in some instances even encouraged. As parents, community leaders and educators it is our responsibility not only to protect students from bullying but to hold our youth accountable for their behavior. It is far beyond time that we recognize that our children are old enough to know better than to intentionally mistreat their peers. If we do not tolerate this type of behavior in adults there should exist no reason to think that it is somehow excusable in children. It is our duty to raise and nurture responsible and respectable adults. That begins by teaching them kindness and compassion.After all great men and women are not born they are Raised. If we elevate our behavior our children will follow suit.

Candace Casey aka Cccasey5150

Bitch and the N word:The Internet and the language of Opression

So here is the thing I have been thinking about a lot lately.The internet and what is like to be an outspoken woman on a public forumn.It never ceases to amaze me how many men seem to lump all women into the same “category” or even more so how many women are willing to put down and denounce their own gender in order to score “brownie points” with members of the opposite sex with the audacity to refer to them as “cum dumpsters” the connotation of this type of language is very clear, a woman is as useful to this type of male as a garbage can he would choose to ejaculate in. I earnestly cannot fathom why any sane self respecting woman would seek approval from someone who is so obviously emotionally stunted.Even more so I do not comprehend why a man like this would even attempt to engage in conversation with a woman like me A.Unlike some other feminists I will not resort to “name calling” nor will I bat an eye at being called a “bitch” in fact it is a title I wear with pride.B I will more than likely present a well articulated argument for my stance that will expose  him for the semi-literate caveman that he actually is.C. Despite his ridiculous assumption that I “hate men” because I do not automatically agree that men are in every way “superior” to women I in many aspects probably posess a far more favorable view of true masculinity than he or his female admirers  do.For example I am sick of the outdated stereotypical notion that says that men are nothing more than a bunch of raging hormones and therefore incapable of controlling their sexual urges when they see a scantily clad female.It never ceases to amaze me that it’s usually men reinforcing these stereotypes .Do men really have such little confidence in their own gender? In addition I think the idiot who came up with the phrase ” Real men don’t cry” ought to be shot I for one am not impressed with the type of man who feigns being nonchalant or indifferent. I actually think a man who cares is a good thing I balk at the notion that I hate men because I actually believe they possess the ability to be decent human beings and should be held to the same moral standards as their female counterparts Perhaps I’m misconstruing what some of these individuals might be trying to communicate but I seriously doubt it. I also do not understand how I inadvertently offended certain black men for claiming that their worth should extend to something beyond the size of their penis. I am not of the mindset that Any man or woman’s worth should ever be measured in purely sexual terms.While I understand that some men pride themselves in their sexuality I am far more concerned with the idea that a white woman (or any woman for that matter) is interested in a man merely because of the size of his member .I also think its ridiculous to assume that because a guy is black he is good in bed.This is what we refer to as a “positive racial stereotype, similar to the following 1. Asians are good at math 2. Mexicans are hard workers3. Indians are tech savvy. While these might seem innocous or even complimentary they are deeply embedded assumptions that still reduce a person to be classified by their physical attributes not who they really are. This is still using the “oppressors language “to describe a group of people rather than seeing them as individuals.I even divulged to this group that I had previously dated a black man.However the size of his penis had no bearing on my interest in him.At the time I was only sixteen and he was nineteen.We never engaged in sexual intercourse.He was just one of the first young men in my life to make me feel beautiful and as if my disability did not matter in his  eyes.Our relationship was complex he was seeing someone else without my knowledge and when she found me crying over him she talked to me about what was going on.She decided to break it off with him because he was lying to both of us. After that I did not even want to be in his presence because he had broken my heart.Though we were later able to restore our friendship things were just never the same between us after that.The experience really wasn’t that uncommon for someone my age.I of course am a more objective person than to have allowed the experience to sour my opinion of all men or even more my opinion of all black men. I understood that he was an individual and he made individual choices.I also never once approached a potential romantic partner with the assumption that he would make the same mistakes. In many respects Patrick taught me what to be wary of in a young man, he was a bit “too charming” and often told me exactly what I wanted to hear.Since then I have gravitated towards men who are if possible even more honest and forthright than I am.I often tease my husband Jonathan about this because sometimes he definitely does “step on my toes” but rather than being immature enough to view his “bluntness” as disrespectful I am of the mind that he has the utmost faith in me because he knows I can handle the truth. Our relationship while not perfect is both respectful and mutually supportive. I believe in him and he believes in me .I do not begrudge him his hobbies or friendships nor does he feign an interest in mine.If he wants to watch football I will compensate for my boredom by either reading or crocheting.If he wants to hang out with his friends and we dont already have plans I can go shopping or to lunch with an old friend.In essence we are a couple but we are still free to be individuals. I am particularly grateful that he listens to me and that he supports me both as a writer and in the different aspects of ministry I have chosen to take part in.At the same time he makes me laugh when he teases me about reading and imitates Gaston from Beauty and the Beast and says “Women should not read if a woman reads she will eventually start thinking and getting ideas.” This is of course an inside joke for us because our friendship originally blossomed over our mutual love for books. Of course my hubby gravitates more towards works of fiction particularly mystery or thrillers than I do.I am more of a fan of autobiohraphies , contemporary Christian self help and my literary chocolate Chick Lit .I of course also read a great deal of novels and am a sucker for the Chicken soup for the soul series.( In spite of what my literary professsor said about it being “mawkish)In any sense I am glad that my husband is a reader because we have recommended books to each other and I have enjoyed some great books I may never have cracked open otherwise.It also gives us an unending supply of conversational topics. Which is an awesome thing.In conclusion the reason I started this blog post is due to an essay I was assigned to do on “The language of Oppression” in college.I admittedly never quite finished it because until recently I was not sure that I grasped what the “oppresors language” was except in the context of references to slaves as “nigger” a word that is now considered a pejorative term for someone with black skin.Yet originally the word simply meant an “ignorant uneducated person”. Of course it was easy for plantation owners to call slaves this because they did not allow their slaves to learn to read.After all slaves where their property and how useful could it possibly be for property to learn how to read? To them educating a slave might have made as much sense as the idea of educating a couch or a chair.Perhaps this might not be the best analogy .What I do now understand however is this : The oppresors language is the use of certain words or phrases by tyrants in order to silence or discredit the voice of those under their power.This for me explains why instead of honest discourse when I present a point by point argument I instead see this staring back at me from my computer screen: “Shut up bitch”. Gee how can I possibly argue with such cleverly worded logic? In addition when telling a male companion about how many women are attempting to reclaim the word bitch as their own .In a similar fashion as how the black community has repurposed the word nigga by a giving it an ebonics spin and b. Using it as a term of endearmont amongst themselves, he of course goes into a ridiculous tirade about how the word bitch will always mean the same thing.I of course understand clearly exactly where this is coming from.Bitch is a word that many (though of course not all) men employ as a means to control or manipulate a woman’s behavior. If women suddenly decide that “bitch” is now a good or desirable thing to be called then they loose the ability to coerce a woman into acting like a lady by implying that her behavior makes her a dog. Yet they do not see the intrinsic irony in referring to a woman as a dog while simultaneously reinforcing the stereotype that she must obey or she is not a good girl. This is the voice of privilege a language so deceived by its own fear that it fails to see that it is enslaved by the very same chains it shackles others with.As long as we see each other by things as superficial as race and gender we remain blinded towards the mirror of our own humanity in those who neither look ,act or think as we do.We believe the lie that others must be weak for us to remain strong, others must be fools for us to be wise or that others must be ugly for us to remain attractive when the reality is that we can each learn from each other and borrow strength and power from one another when and if neccesary.I seek to understand you even if I agree with nothing you have to say believing in your humanity as much as my own because that is the only way that I fully know to be free from the Oppresors language.

Candace Casey aka Cccasey5150