Written by Carly Brandvold, Kids Pastor of Ethos Church in Nashville, TN. You can find her blog here.
Richard asked me to contribute to the blog a while ago. And, to be honest, I have avoided actually sitting down and writing. I hold all of these memories, stories, and images of Cassie within me. To put them on paper is to acknowledge a finality that I am still holding onto. Nonetheless, I think she is worth talking about and I think our friendship is worth giving you a peek inside.
“I want to have a baby…”
Cassie and I were accustomed to spending a few hours each week on the phone. In the car on the way to and from work, laying on the couch, and getting ready in the mornings were all times filled with the exchange of commentary on the latest New Girl episode, politics, theology, plants we were trying to keep alive, relationships, books we were reading, and so much more.
One evening, she called and our conversation went a rather exciting direction. I answered the phone to hear Cassie on the other end, “Carls! I want to have a baby. Richard really wants to have a baby. But, I don’t know if I am ready.”
Our conversation unfolded as I am sure many do on this topic. Cassie was worried she wasn’t ready to be a Mom. She wasn’t quite sure she was ready to settle down in that way. But, then again, she knew she wanted kids. Cassie had felt they had come to a point in their marriage and careers that this would be a good time to start trying. But, she was nervous.
I said all the things a best friend should say… “Cassie! When and if you decide to have kids, you will be a fantastic Mom! I have no doubts about that. I am sure it is somewhat normal to be a little nervous. I trust you. I trust Richard. I trust your ability to trust yourself. If you want to start a family, you can! And your baby will be so loved.”
We spent the better part of an hour and a half chatting about babies. I spent the better part of an hour and a half simply listening to Cassie and encouraging her.
March 25th…
A few days later I received a call from Richard early one morning telling me the news of Cassie’s accident. I spent the next few weeks in deep sorrow and anger. As the grief ebbed and flowed like ocean waves I couldn’t let go of my last conversation with Cassie.
Cassie would never have a baby.
As the reality of this set in I found myself at times more angry at this than at the fact that my best friend had died.
Cassie would never have a baby.
It wasn’t just about the baby. It was that her future, her career, her marriage, her dreams and desires, were just gone. None of it would continue. It was like a healthy, blooming plant totally uprooted.
For months, it felt like a cruel joke that this was my last conversation with Cassie. A conversation solely rooted in the future, in big dreams, in living life to the fullest. Only to be met with the reality of death a few short days later.
All The Little Children…
Perhaps the sweetest grace about my friendship with Cassie is that we both ended up doing the same job, just a few hundred miles away. I work as a Kids Pastor at a church in Nashville. And Cassie also did the holy and sacred work of pastoring children at her church in Kissimmee.
As far as I know, neither of us ever dreamed about working in children’s ministry. We both had always loved children. But, this simply wasn’t how we pictured either of our lives unfolding.
Our conversations quickly came to include an element of work talk. “Do you have any curriculum suggestions?” “How are you structuring your children’s worship?” “How are you connecting with parents?” “Do you think what we are doing matters?”
Our friendship became sacred ground for the woes of ministry, hards days, sweet moments, struggles, joys, challenges, and victories.
Cassie and I had both come to the revelation that children are deeply valuable to the kingdom of God. Not when they make it into the youth group, not when they get married, not when they are considered elderly. They are valuable now. As 2-year-olds.
We would often talk about the passage from Matthew 19 where Jesus boldly welcomes the children to him. “Jesus said, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these’” (Matthew 19:14). We longed to create spaces where children were fully welcomed and fully valued because Jesus welcomed and valued children.
Reconciling Brokenness and Finding Healing…
So, no, Cassie with never have a baby. And that thought will probably always make me cry. It will take me back to standing in my bedroom and processing the possibility of a Baby Pack with her.
The brokenness of this reality will always be fresh in my mind. This is a brokenness that cannot be healed this side of Heaven. But, I do believe all brokenness will be reconciled and restored in time. And I have learned that I can find healing from this conversation with Cassie in other ways.
Cassie spent years doing a good and holy work with children.
While this doesn’t fill the missing void of Cassie having a baby, it does give me great pride in Cassie. Proud of the Mother she would have been. And proud of the Pastor she was to children.
Cassie would have cared deeply for her children. She was already caring deeply for each child in her care in her ministry.
Cassie would have loved them unconditionally. She was already loving each child at church unconditionally.
Cassie would have taught them well. She was already teaching children about the goodness and love of God.
Cassie would have shown them what it looks like to walk with Jesus each day. She was already doing this not only with children at church but also with Richard, her family, and her friends.
How I am learning from Cassie each day…
I can’t wrap this post up in a neat, tidy bow. Nothing about this is neat and tidy.
Sadness and grief and sometimes anger are still present when I think of Cassie. But, I am also overwhelmingly proud of her. I am proud of the ways she lived and loved.
I am proud of the years she spent Mothering the children in her care. And, I hope to do the same.
Each day she shows up in unexpected ways. And I am forever grateful for the mystery that allows me moments to sense her presence with me or know the exact words she would say to me.
Since her passing, she has encouraged me that this job, the job of pastoring children, does indeed matter.
And she has also taught me that no dream is a promise. Dreams are good. We should have them, dream bigger dreams, cast our hopes high. But, I have learned that dreams are not promises. Each day, each moment, we have to dream about jobs, travels, relationships, and kids, is a grace from God.
So I will keep dreaming. And I will keep thanking God for the chance to dream. And I will keep showing up for the kids in my care with great love.
