Pictured above, from left: Me in all my prairie fashion glory; Sarah Spates Slaughter; Cindy Casaday Allen; Wanda Walker Snyder; Ramona Bearden Martin.
It’s not easy being a preacher’s kid, or “PK,” especially in a small Southern community. And it can’t be easy raising PKs, either, because the whole family’s living life in a fishbowl. As a young teenager, I got so see both done exceptionally well.
The Casadays at my school were just normal kids like the rest of us—sweating exams and prom dates and all the other WORST PROBLEMS EVER that teenagers have. Cindy Casaday was one of my closest friends, part of a circle of girls who did just about everything together. We all talked about boys and grades and makeup and clothes and how to get our “wings” to lie flat (mine never did).
But you could also see the Christian faith the Casadays were raised with, not because they were preachy (kiss of death in high school), but because they were honest and kind and compassionate; because they happily participated with young people in their church; because they respected their parents.
The things I remember most about sleepovers at Cindy’s—the pastorium for Hepzibah Baptist Church—were (1) the formal living room where church receptions were sometimes held, which we were not allowed to mess up; (2) the quiet presence of her dad, who was the pastor at Hepzibah—he would always find time to say hello to our giggling brood, but then he let teenagers be teenagers; (3) and Cindy’s mom, a force of nature who could somehow sit down and talk with all of us girls to find out what was going on with us, welcome pop-in church members, get supper on the table, and remind Cindy and her brothers to help the kids from that new family fit in and feel welcome. They were a well-oiled machine, all working together in support of Brother Casaday’s ministry but more than that—in support of his mission in the community, in support of sharing God’s love and grace. It was completely genuine.
We lost Brother Casaday to a stroke this week. He preached his last sermon last Sunday and had just turned 88. As our friend Amy said, there has surely never been a more “good and faithful servant.”
I feel so blessed to have had the Casadays in my life—especially as an impressionable teenager. Every time I visited their home, I saw it: Faith isn’t just something you have—it’s something you do, something you live, every day.
Thinking of Cindy and her family today as they say a temporary goodbye to Brother Casaday.
Love the beautiful account of spending time at Nana and Granddad's when you were younger. He will definitely be missed, but we'll see him again soon!
Posted by: Wesley Allen | March 06, 2019 at 07:20 AM
Such a special person—and a special family.
Posted by: Valerie Luesse | March 06, 2019 at 08:26 AM
Such a sweet and true picture of a family that truly put God first and loved each other. That love also touched innumerable lives wherever life took them. Bro Casaday was a wonderful example of Christian humility. He was faithful to the end of his life on this earth. He was a great example for us.
Posted by: Lou Ann Allen | March 08, 2019 at 06:07 PM