Tired of Running

     Still trying to figure things out. But who isn't, right? For probably the last two weeks I just haven't been myself. Not the happy, I love you so much, lets all be friends Cassy Strickland that I try to be. About a month or so ago my family got a some bad news. Not just "Oh no I need to go get a new washer" (that's a very odd example, I realize) but like punch you in the gut, how could this be happening again kind of news. If you've read the past few posts you know within around 7 years I have lost two very dear grandparents. Both from my mothers side. My sweet, sweet Nottos. The news was first: "Pawpaw has cancer, a tumor on his esophagus." then: "He has cancer all over."
     The news has flooded my mind with all the horrible memories of watching my grandparents get sicker and sicker.

•   Grandma, always so little and fragile. I didn't understand for a long time why mom always told me to hug her gently when I saw her. I can't imagine having to break the news to your children about their first experience with death. One day right before dropping me off at Angie Grant, I was grilling my mom about when I'd get to see Grandma next. Mom told me "Honey, you may never get to see Grandma again." I cried all morning. The day I actually got to see her I was so nervous. I got in, saw all the suppressed grim looks on my aunts and uncles faces, but not until I saw Grandma did my heart actually sink. A little bit of reality had entered my world. She couldn't talk because of all the tubes. I was so scared I didn't say a word, and mom basically made me hug her goodbye. If then I'd known that would be the last I'd ever get to see her I would have done so much more! I would have told her how much I love her, I would have given her the biggest hug! The last day before Christmas break, December 20th, 2006, my dad picked me up early for school. I thought it was awesome! I hopped in his truck all smiles, and then he told me "Sweety.. Grandma passed away today." The Cassy you guys know now would be sobbing, but me then decided "No. Be strong. No crying." I sat there emotionless, but secretly dying inside, as my dad broke the news to my sister. For the next couple of days I kept the promise to myself, I wouldn't cry. Mom and all of my dearest aunts and uncles were heartbroken, they didn't need another sad person around. I stuck with it all the way to Grandma's funeral. Dad walked in and I went up to hug him and then completely lost it. He just held me as I ruined his tie with my tears. The reality of death didn't only enter my world, it smashed it.
•   After Grandma's death I got a lot of quality time with Grandpa. While I wouldn't trade that time with him for the world, it also gave me the live show of watching him get weaker and weaker. I can't give you an exact time line of it all, but not super long after Grandma's death we found out Grandpa has cancer. Possibly 7th grade? I don't think it was so bad the first go around, but of course that could have been my mind not believing how sick he was. The second time was tough. Seeing him so weak after chemo was horrible. One time Madeline and I actually went with him and my mom. We saw all the sick, and hurting and decided to try to make people smile. We turned on some music and danced for like an hour in the waiting room. At some point in the beginning of 9th grade Grandpa had to go to the ICU in Memphis. I begged my mom to let me go with her so she let me. We, my mom, some aunts and uncles, and myself, spent the night in the waiting room. And then the whole next day (for me anyway). The whole time just hoping and praying he would make it through this. He did. He pulled out of that one. On October 6th, 2010 while going over a lesson in Algebra 2 a note was sent from the office saying I was being checked out. The only thing I could recently think of was that Aunt Jeanna hurt herself, and for a moment my heart raced worrying something else had happened to her. I walked in the office seeing my mom leaned over in a seat by the front window. She looked up. Her eyes we red and puffy. She told me that Grandpa's helper found him that morning in his bed. I said "Okay" and ran out before anyone could see me cry. I flew down the stairs, ran to my locker, slammed it open and started shoving all my stuff in my backpack. My mom followed and told me her and Madeline were leaving now and I could go with them. My first thought was absolutely yes. I wanted to be with my family. Then I realized I had two massive tests, and a Green Team meeting that I hadn't given anyone else the notes to. I had to stay. I probably could have gotten out of it, but I think deep down I couldn't face all of that yet. I needed a few more hours of normal. I teared up in just about every class, not really telling anyone why. I waited, I couldn't explode at school. I got home didn't talk to anyone, went straight in my room. I closed the door, threw myself on the bed covering up my screaming/crying with my pillow. Praise Jesus that night was a Wednesday. I told my dad there was no way I was missing church. I went on to Emily's cell group and crumbled into the people I could be completely comfortable with. Emily and Mrs. Shaleen. They both held my hands and prayed over me. Grandpa funeral was miserable. Trying to stay strong for my obviously breaking family in front of me, I held Madeline's hand keeping myself together. I was pretty good until one of Mom's sweetest friends, Mrs. Jackie, came over said "Aww baby I'm so sorry" and gave me a big hug. I lost it from there. Going to the same plot we cried over so many times now to bury another.

     That's a lot to consume someone's mind. Especially knowing that that same kind of stuff is about to start happening again. At first I just cried and cried about it. Multiple times a day. My mom coming home every night could tell I'd been crying. The past two weeks I snapped to a side of me I don't like. The don't want to feel anything, who cares, shut up you're annoying, dead hearted, flat out bitter "call me Mara" side of myself. Basically always angry. I've been angry, no, furious with God. Again he was putting me through this. AGAIN. Honestly, I'm still trying to fix everything. I guess I actually have to rely on God to fix that mess. I'm still finding my way back. Sunday I cried for the first time in two weeks. Tom at the end of service was talking about giving whatever was going on to God. I sat down and sobbed in my hands. Tonight during worship I was full out singing, crying out to my God during this song:

"Will your grace run out
If I let you down
'Cause all I know
Is how to run"
-I have been running, or better yet sprinting from God.

"'Cause I am a sinner
If it's not one thing it's another
Caught up in words
Tangled in lies"
-Such a sinner. Lying to myself that I didn't need help. I was fine on my own. I didn't need God.

"But You are a Savior
And You take brokenness aside
And make it beautiful
Beautiful"
-I am broken, and still slightly crumbling. Only God can put the mess that is my heart back together. Praying for peace and faith.