Less Stuff. More Life!

It’s amazing just how much stuff we accumulate over the years.

My husband and I got married in our late 30s. By that time, we had already lived a lot of life and collected a lot of our own stuff. Then we brought those two lives—and all that stuff—together under one roof.

Recently, after losing both of Scot’s parents, we’ve realized just how much stuff can clutter your life and, ultimately, leave behind a huge mess for your loved ones to deal with.

It’s been over a year since Nan passed, and we’re still working on getting things done at his parents’ home so we can put it up for sale and settle the estate. Of course, we have our own lives to live, so we’re trying to deal with everything there whenever we can find the time.

But going through their home has really made me take a closer look at our own.

How much stuff do we actually have?

How much of it do we really need?

And more importantly, what are we leaving behind for our son to deal with someday?

That last question really hit home for us.

We don’t want to leave Tim with a house full of things that he has to spend months—or even years—sorting through, deciding what to throw away, what to sell, and what to donate. We don’t want our stuff to become his burden.

So, we’ve started sifting through our own home and getting rid of things.

Some things get thrown away. Some things get donated. Some things get sold. And sometimes we simply stand there holding something and ask ourselves, “Do we really need to keep this?”

More often than not, the answer is no.

I’ve heard it said that a cluttered home can lead to a cluttered mind, and I can definitely relate to that. Personally, I have a hard time concentrating and feeling settled when my surroundings are cluttered. And honestly, I have so many other things I’d rather be doing with my time (like blogging for instance), than constantly moving, organizing, and decluttering the same stuff over and over again.

That’s why we’re embracing a new mentality:

Less Stuff. More Life.

We want less stress.

We want to reclaim space in our home.

We want to be able to enjoy the spaces we live in instead of constantly feeling like we need to organize them.

And most importantly, we want to make more room for what matters most—our family, our friends, and the life God has given us.

Life has certainly never been boring for us. Raising a very active son kept us incredibly busy for many years, and there were plenty of things that simply got pushed to the side because life was happening.

Now that Tim is grown, we find ourselves in a different season of life. We have the opportunity to focus on some of those things we let go by the wayside—including our stuff.

So, little by little, we’re going through our home.

We organize.

We sell.

We donate.

We throw away.

And then we do it again.

Because the funny thing about decluttering is that once you start, you begin to see even more things you don't need.

Our goal isn't to have an empty house or to get rid of everything we own. We simply want to be more intentional about what we choose to keep.

We want a home that feels peaceful instead of overwhelming.

A home that has room to breathe.

A home where the things we own serve a purpose instead of taking up space just because we’ve always had them.

And eventually, I believe we’ll get there.

We’ll have our home the way we want it—less cluttered, more organized, and filled with the things that truly matter.

Because in the end, it’s not really about having less stuff. It’s about making room for more life.

And I, for one, am really looking forward to a home that is less in stuff but more in life❤️.

Kindness Is Not Compromise

“Kindness is not an endorsement of a behavior.

Kindness is an invitation for people to enter into the goodness of God.”

— Lisa Bevere

I recently came across this quote from Lisa Bevere, and it stopped me because there is so much truth in it.

Kindness is not compromise.

Somewhere along the way, we have confused kindness with agreement. We have confused gentleness with weakness, silence with love, and standing for truth with being harsh.

But those things are not the same.

You can be kind to someone without agreeing with everything they believe, everything they say, or everything they do. You can love someone deeply without celebrating choices that you believe are wrong. And you can stand firmly on what you believe is true without treating the person who disagrees with you as though they have no value.

Jesus showed us how to do this.

Jesus never watered down truth simply to make people comfortable. He never changed what was right because someone might be offended by it. Yet He also never withheld compassion simply to prove a point.

He spoke truth, but He did it with love.

He confronted sin, but He still saw the person.

He challenged people, but He also invited them.

That distinction is important.

Kindness does not mean saying, “Everything you are doing is okay.”

Sometimes kindness means being willing to tell someone the truth because you care enough not to simply stand by and watch them walk toward destruction.

But there is a difference between speaking truth because we love someone and speaking truth because we want to win an argument.

One points toward redemption.

The other points toward ourselves.

We have to be careful that our desire to defend what is right doesn't cause us to forget the heart of the One who is right.

It is possible to be so focused on being right that we become completely wrong in the way we treat people.

And that is where I believe kindness becomes so powerful.

Kindness is not weakness.

Kindness is not approval.

Kindness is not ignoring sin.

Kindness is not pretending that wrong is right.

Kindness is reflecting the character of God in the middle of it.

You do not have to celebrate what is broken to love the person standing in front of you.

You do not have to compromise your convictions to show compassion.

And you do not have to become harsh in order to stand for what you believe is right.

There are times when silence is not kindness. There are times when avoiding a difficult conversation isn't loving at all. Sometimes the kindest thing we can do is speak the truth—but how we speak that truth matters.

Are we speaking it with humility?

Are we speaking it with compassion?

Are we speaking it because we genuinely want someone to experience the goodness of God?

Or are we speaking because we want to make sure they know that we are right?

Those are very different motivations.

The world doesn't need more Christians who are willing to shout truth while forgetting love.

And it doesn't need Christians who are so afraid of offending someone that they refuse to speak truth at all.

We need both.

We need the courage to stand for truth and the humility to do it with grace.

We need to be bold enough to speak truth, soft enough to reflect His heart, and strong enough to do both at the same time.

Because kindness is an invitation.

An invitation to something higher.

An invitation to healing.

An invitation to restoration.

An invitation to experience the goodness of God.

And maybe that is one of the greatest ways we can reflect Jesus—not by compromising truth and not by using truth as a weapon, but by allowing His truth and His love to work together through us.

Truth without love can wound.
Love without truth can mislead.
But truth spoken through love can lead someone toward redemption.

That is the kind of kindness I want to practice.

Not a kindness that compromises.

Not a kindness that simply keeps the peace.

But a kindness that reflects Jesus.

To My Athlete

I hope someday you understand just how much I want you to know this—not just as your mom, but as someone who has had the privilege of watching you grow, work, struggle, overcome, succeed, and become the young man you are today. 

I know that I don't say these things to you enough.

As your mom, I spend a lot of time talking about the next goal, the next competition, the next lift, the next thing that needs to be done. We talk about numbers and training and injuries and what comes next.

And sometimes, in all of that, I probably don't say the most important thing nearly enough:

I am proud of you.

Not because of what you can lift.

Not because of the medals or the trophies.

Not because of the PRs or the competitions you've won.

Not because of what you might accomplish someday.

I was proud of you before any of it began.

Before you ever walked into a dojang or a gym.

Before you ever stepped onto a TKD mat or touched a barbell.

Before you ever knew what a PR was.

Before anyone knew what you were capable of.

You were my son, and I was already proud of you.

I love watching you pursue something you are passionate about. I love watching you work hard and discover what you're capable of. I love seeing the discipline, determination, and dedication you've developed through this journey.

And yes, I am incredibly proud of the athlete you've become.

But I want you to understand something even more important: 

Your accomplishments are something you do. They are not who you are.

There will be day when you win, and there will be days when you don't.

There will be days when the weight moves easily and day when it doesn't.

There will be seasons when your body allows you to do everything you want to do and seasons when an injury forces you to slow down.

There will be moments when you surprise yourself with how strong you are and moments when you question whether you're strong enough.

Through it all, I hope you remember:

You never have to prove yourself to me.

You never have to put a certain number on the bar to make me proud.

You never have to win a competition to make me love watching you do what you love.

And you certainly never have to be perfect.

I believe God gave you an incredible athletic ability for a reason. I don't know exactly where He will take you with that gift, but I believe there is purpose in it. Maybe the purpose will be found in the competitions you win. Maybe it will be found in the people you encourage along the way. Maybe it will shape you for something completely different that God has planned for your future.

Whatever He has for you, I pray you never lose sight of the fact that your worth was never found in your performance.

You get to enjoy this.

You get to chase big goals.

You get to work hard and see what you're capable of.

You get to stand on a platform and give everything you've got.

And you get to enjoy the incredible feeling of accomplishing something you once thought might be impossible.

But you don't have to accomplish those things to be worthy of the joy.

You are already worthy.

So lift the weight. 

Chase the goal.

Dream bigger.

Work hard.

Celebrate the victories.

Learn from the disappointments.

Get back up when life knocks you down.

And when you stand on that platform, I hope you can look out into the crowd and know that your mom isn't sitting there thinking about what you have to prove.

She's sitting there thinking, "That's my boy."

And whether you are holding a medal or walking away without one, whether you're setting a record or simply doing your best, whether you're sitting on the sidelines because your body needs time to heal...

I'll still be thinking the same thing.

"That's my boy."

Because I was proud of you before any of it began.

And I will be proud of you long after it ends.

I love you, Tim.

Never forget that.

R.I.P. Dolly

I wanted to take the time to give honor where honor is due in this blog post.

Yesterday, we lost an icon. They say she had been battling cancer. To say that I hate cancer is an understatement. It has taken so many lives—some I've known personally and some I haven't. Regardless, it is a disease that needs a cure.

Growing up, this woman was such a powerful force for women everywhere. She made it in an industry that, at the time, was overwhelmingly male-dominated. Being a woman in country music wasn't for the faint of heart, and Dolly was by no means someone who would take no for an answer. If someone told her she couldn't do something, she proved them wrong every...single...time!

She was someone I looked up to and admired greatly. I grew up listening to her music and watching her movies. Everyone knew who Dolly was and loved her—even people who weren't particularly country music fans. You just couldn't help but love her.

I remember our very first visit to Dollywood when Tim was 7 years old. What stood out to me wasn't just the park itself, but the way Dolly treated families of those who had served in our military. My husband's parents were able to get five tickets for a fraction of what it would have cost at a place like Disney. Dolly made sure that military families were treated with generosity and appreciation. That meant something to me. It showed me that her heart for people wasn't just something we saw on television or heard in interviews. She found ways to give back and to honor those who had sacrificed for others.

(This was taken in her RV at Dollywood)

There was something so genuine about Dolly. She seemed to love people, encourage people, and bring joy wherever she went. I can't remember a time when I saw her in public and she wasn't smiling or lifting someone else up.

Losing her husband after nearly 60 years together was heartbreaking. When you spend that many years of your life loving someone, a piece of your heart goes with them when they're gone. I thought of that when I heard of her passing. My husband's parents had been together for just as long, if not longer, when they passed away just a little over a year apart from one another. I remember thinking about how deeply intertwined two lives become after so many decades together.

Dolly Parton will forever remain one of my heroes—not simply because of her incredible career, but because of the woman she chose to be throughout it. She broke barriers, opened doors, encouraged generations of women, and used her success to make a difference in the lives of others.

Dolly left her fingerprint on my heart, just as she did on the hearts of so many others.

She will never be forgotten.

There will never be another Dolly.

(I made the concept—AI helped sharpen it up)

The Journey Behind the Lift

Tim's plans are to lift at this year’s State Championships—prayerfully🙏. A lot will depend on how his elbow responds to rehab between now and then, but he’s signed up regardless.

Before Tim went to Nationals, he had already started having some issues with his elbow. We thought we had gotten everything lined out with his body guy, but once he returned home and got back into training, the problem got worse.

I shared a little about what was going on in an earlier blog post. If you missed it, you can read it here: When Strength Looks Different.

Thankfully, rehab is going well. Just not quite as quickly as Tim would like😊.

The next step is getting an MRI scheduled while he continues working with PT. At this point, Tim wants to know exactly what he’s dealing with—and quite frankly, so do we. Having some answers would help us understand what’s going on and what the best path forward looks like.

For now, Tim is hoping and praying that his elbow will allow him to compete. If he does get to lift, he’ll be taking a very conservative approach with his numbers. As much as he wants to compete, he doesn’t want to push things and cause further injury.

For someone who loves to lift and compete as much as Tim does, being patient through an injury is not easy. But sometimes strength looks different.

Right now, strength looks like showing up for rehab, being patient, listening to his body, and trusting God with the outcome.

God has blessed Tim with an amazing athletic ability, and we don't believe that gift is an accident. We believe God has a purpose for Tim's life, and we believe that purpose includes this athletic journey he is on. We don't know exactly where God is going to take him through it, but we know that God does have a purpose and plan.

Maybe this season is about competing. Maybe it's about learning patience. Maybe it's about perseverance. Maybe it's about something we can't see yet. Whatever it is, we want Tim to remember that his identity and purpose are bigger than a platform, a PR, or a championship.

We're praying for total healing, answers, and the opportunity for Tim to step onto that platform at State Championships for his 4th straight time. 

Whatever happens, though, we trust that God is using this journey Tim's on for something bigger than we can see right now💪🙏. 

(picture taken from MTYC's social media page)

Exceedingly, Abundantly Above All We Ask or Think

This is one of those Scriptures that I could read over and over again and still find something new in it.

Paul ends this portion of his letter with a doxology—a declaration of praise to God. And what a declaration it is.

He reminds us that God is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think.

Think about that for a minute.

Not just what we ask.

Not just what we hope for.

Not just what we can imagine.

Above all that we ask or think.

Our prayers are limited by what we know. Our expectations are limited by what we've experienced. Even our imaginations have limits. We tend to look at a situation and try to figure out how God could possibly change it based on what we can see right now.

But God isn't limited by what we can see.

He isn't limited by our circumstances.

He isn't limited by our understanding.

And He certainly isn't limited by our imagination.

God's ways are higher than our ways, and His thoughts are higher than our thoughts. Sometimes we look at a situation and see a dead end while God sees a doorway. We see something that seems impossible while God sees an opportunity to show us just how powerful He is.

And I think that's part of what makes this verse so powerful.

God is already at work even when we can't see what He is doing.

That doesn't mean God will always answer our prayers the way we want Him to. I've learned that sometimes His answer is different from what I expected, and sometimes His timing is very different from mine.

But that doesn't mean He isn't working.

Sometimes God is working in the situation.

Sometimes He's working in the people around us.

And sometimes, if we're being honest, He's working in us.

That's what Paul means when he says, "according to the power that works in us."

God doesn't just want to change what's happening around us. He wants to transform what's happening within us. He wants to grow our faith, strengthen our trust, change our perspective and teach us to depend on Him.

There have been plenty of times in my life when I didn't understand what God was doing. I've prayed for things that didn't happen the way I thought they would. I've wondered why certain doors closed and why certain seasons lasted as long as they did.

But looking back, I can see things I couldn't see while I was walking through them.

I can see where God was protecting me.

I can see where He was redirecting me.

I can see where He was growing me.

And I can see that what I thought was the end of something was sometimes the beginning of something I couldn't have imagined.

That's why this verse is such a reminder to me to trust God with the things I cannot figure out.

I don't have to know how He's going to do it.

I don't have to know when He's going to do it.

I don't even have to understand what He's doing.

I just have to remember who He is.

He is able.

He is able when I am not.

He is able when the situation looks impossible.

He is able when I don't see a way forward.

He is able when my plans don't work out.

He is able when my faith feels small.

And He is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that I ask or think.

What if we actually lived like we believed that?

What if instead of telling God how big our problems are, we started reminding ourselves how big our God is?

What if we stopped putting limits on what God can do because we can't see a way for it to happen?

What if we prayed bigger prayers—not because we expect God to give us everything we want, but because we trust that He knows what is best?

Let's leave room for God to surprise us.

Let's stop trying to put God in a box based on what we think is possible.

Because our view is limited.

His isn't.

And the beautiful thing about this passage is that Paul doesn't end by making the focus about what God can do for us.

He ends with praise:

"To Him be glory..."

That's the point.

Whatever God chooses to do, however He chooses to do it, and whenever He chooses to do it, the glory belongs to Him.

So today, let's choose to believe that God is working even when we can't see it.

Let's choose to trust Him with the things we don't understand.

Let's choose to pray, to believe, to wait and to leave room for God to do what only God can do.

Because we don't want to limit God to what we can see.

Let's remember that He is able to do exceedingly, abundantly above all that we ask or think.

And maybe the thing we're praying about right now isn't going to happen the way we think it will.

Maybe God has something completely different in mind.

Maybe His answer will be better than the one we would have written for ourselves.

So let's keep trusting.

Let's keep praying.

Let's keep believing.

And let's keep reminding ourselves:

God is able.

More able than we are.

More powerful than our circumstances.

More faithful than our feelings.

And capable of doing far more than we could ever ask, imagine or dream.

To Him be the glory. Forever and ever. Amen.

LOVE THE LORD YOUR GOD WITH ALL YOUR HEART

This is a Bible verse that I hold very dear to my heart.

When I was younger, I didn't understand it the way I do today. As I've grown older and grown in my walk with God, this verse has come to mean so much more to me than simply a command to be obeyed.

It has become something I have experienced.

As God has guided my life to where it is today, I have naturally come to love Him with all my heart, soul, and strength.

I began to understand this so much better when I started seeing God as my Dad back in my 20s. Looking at Him through the eyes of a child looking up to a loving father completely opened up my world when it came to my faith walk with Him.

I had always known about God.

But I was beginning to know Him.

And there is a huge difference.

That understanding of His love really began to sink in during my time at Mercy Multiplied in Monroe, Louisiana. That experience helped me see what true love—the God kind of love—really means.

God's love for us is deeper than anything I have ever experienced in my life.

He loves us with everything He has.

He doesn't love us only when we get it right. He doesn't love us only when we're obedient. He doesn't stop loving us when we mess up, when we hurt, when we're angry, or when we don't understand what He is doing.

He simply loves us.

And when you have spent a good portion of your life not fully understanding what that kind of love looks like, experiencing it can change everything.

There was an older couple at Mercy Multiplied who were always there for us. They showed us the kind of love that a parent should show their children.

The husband always made a point to hug me every time he saw me.

That might sound like such a small thing to some people.

It wasn't small to me.

Those hugs opened my heart.

They gave me a glimpse of the kind of father-daughter love I had never really known. And through that experience, God began showing me something I desperately needed to understand:

I had a Father who loved me.

A Father who wasn't going to abandon me.

A Father who wasn't going to hurt me.

A Father who wasn't going to make me earn His love.

A Father who saw everything I had been through and loved me anyway.

And as I began to understand God's love for me, He began to deal with the anger I had carried in my heart for so many years because of the things I had experienced growing up.

He began to heal places in me that I didn't even realize still needed healing.

God brought me to Mercy Multiplied for such a time as that.

He knew exactly what He was doing.

He wasn't just bringing me there to get through a difficult season. He was bringing me there so I could begin to heal, become whole again, and ultimately become the woman He had created me to be.

He was preparing me for His plan for my life.

Looking back now, I can see His hand in so much of it.

I can see how He used people.

I can see how He used circumstances.

I can see how He used that season of my life to tear down walls I had built around my heart.

And most importantly, I can see how He taught me what love really is.

That is why Deuteronomy 6:5 means so much more to me now.

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.”

How can you love someone with all of your heart if you don't believe they truly love you?

How can you completely trust someone if you don't believe they have your best interest at heart?

How can you surrender everything to God if you are constantly afraid of what He might do with your life?

I believe that's why understanding God's love is so important.

When you truly understand how much God loves you, loving Him back becomes a natural response.

It isn't forced.

It isn't something you have to manufacture.

It isn't simply checking a box because the Bible tells you to.

It's the response of a heart that has finally realized, “My Father loves me.”

And once I understood that, everything changed.

I began to trust Him differently.

I began to surrender differently.

I began to pray differently.

I began to see my past differently.

And I began to see myself differently.

I wasn't the sum of everything that had happened to me.

I was His daughter.

And there is something powerful about knowing who you belong to.

Today, I can honestly say that I love the Lord with all my heart, soul, and strength.

Not because I've lived a perfect life.

Not because I've always gotten everything right.

And certainly not because I have all the answers.

I love Him because He first loved me.

He met me in broken places.

He stayed when I didn't understand.

He patiently worked on my heart.

He brought people into my life who showed me His love in ways I could actually receive.

And He took the pieces of my life that I thought were too broken and began putting them back together.

That's what God does.

He doesn't waste our pain.

He doesn't waste our past.

He doesn't waste the seasons we wish had never happened.

He can take all of it and use it for His purposes.

And maybe that's why this verse means so much to me now.

When I read, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength,” I don't hear a harsh command anymore.

I hear an invitation.

An invitation to love the One who has loved me all along.

An invitation to trust the Father who never stopped pursuing me.

An invitation to give Him every part of my heart because I know now that His hands are safe.

When you know how deeply you are loved by God, you don't have to be convinced to love Him back.

You just do.

And that is what Deuteronomy 6:5 has become for me.

Not simply a verse I memorized.

Not simply a command I obey.

But a reflection of a love that has changed my life.

The Most Important Institution in Society is the Family

“The most important institution in society is the family. If we lose the family, we lose everything.”
— Charlie Kirk

Today, many would argue that this simply isn't true. But I know it to be true.

Not only because of my faith—which has certainly added to my understanding of why family matters—but because I’ve had the opportunity in my life to be exposed to other cultures and societies. And one thing I’ve come to believe is universal is this:

The family is the foundation of society.

When the family is strong, society has a strong foundation. When the family begins to fall apart, everything built on top of it becomes weaker.

Think about it. Family is where we first learn how to love, how to sacrifice, how to forgive, how to work together, how to take responsibility, and how to care about someone other than ourselves.

Family is also the reason we do so many of the things we do.

We work hard because we want to provide for our families. We make sacrifices because we want something better for our children. We push through difficult seasons because the people we love are depending on us. We want to build something that will outlast us because we want our families to have a better future.

Family gives us a reason to think beyond ourselves.

And I believe that is one of the things that has made our nation great.

It wasn't simply government, money, technology, or opportunity. It was families who were willing to work, sacrifice, raise children, teach values, serve their communities, and pass those things down to the next generation.

When the family is weakened, those values become harder to pass on.

For me, my faith makes this even clearer. I believe God created the family with a purpose. I believe He cares about our families and wants us to place them in His hands so they can become everything He has purposed them to be.

That doesn't mean families are perfect. They aren't.

Every family has struggles. Every marriage has difficult seasons. Every parent makes mistakes. But that doesn't change the importance of the institution itself.

We don't need to abandon the family because families aren't perfect. We need to fight for them because they matter.

Because if we lose the family, what exactly are we replacing it with?

Who teaches the next generation what love looks like?
Who teaches sacrifice?
Who teaches commitment?
Who teaches responsibility?
Who gives a child the security of knowing, “These people will always be there for me”?

Those things matter.

And perhaps that's why the family is worth protecting, worth investing in, worth fighting for, and most importantly, worth placing in God's hands.

Because if we lose the family, we don't just lose a part of society.

We risk losing the very foundation that holds society together.

And I think we are already seeing what happens when that foundation begins to crumble.

When families become disconnected, people become disconnected. When commitment becomes optional, relationships become disposable. When children don't have the stability of a family structure, they can spend their lives searching for the security, identity, and belonging that should have been established at home.

And when the family stops teaching values, something else will step in to teach them.

That's the part that concerns me.

There is no such thing as a value-free society. If parents don't teach their children what is right, wrong, good, bad, honorable, and worth standing for, someone else will gladly fill that role.

Our children are being shaped every single day by something.

By their families.
By their friends.
By their schools.
By social media.
By entertainment.
By the culture around them.

The question isn't whether our children are being influenced.

The question is: Who is doing the influencing?

That's why I believe parents have an incredible responsibility—not to raise perfect children, but to be intentional about what we are putting into them.

Teach them to work hard.

Teach them to keep their word.

Teach them to respect others.

Teach them that life isn't always about getting what they want.

Teach them that marriage is something worth fighting for.

Teach them that forgiveness matters.

Teach them that serving others matters.

Teach them that character matters when nobody is watching.

And teach them that God matters most of all.

Because eventually our children grow up and leave our homes. We won't always be there to tell them what to do. We won't always be able to protect them from the consequences of their choices.

But if we've done our job well, we've given them something they can carry with them.

Roots.

Roots that remind them where they came from.

Roots that give them a foundation when life gets hard.

Roots that help them recognize truth when the world is trying to convince them of something different.

Roots that remind them that they are loved.

And maybe that's what building a strong family is really about.

It's not about creating a perfect home.

It's about creating a home where people know they belong.

A home where you can laugh together.

A home where you can disagree and still love each other.

A home where forgiveness is practiced.

A home where hard work is expected.

A home where dinner around the table matters.

A home where grandparents are valued, children are cherished, marriages are protected, and faith is lived—not just talked about.

Because families don't become strong by accident.

They become strong because somebody decided they were worth the effort.

Somebody decided to stay.

Somebody decided to forgive.

Somebody decided to put down the phone and listen.

Somebody decided that dinner together was more important than another activity.

Somebody decided to take their children to church.

Somebody decided to pray over their family.

Somebody decided that what happened inside their home mattered more than what the culture outside their home was telling them.

And I believe that's where change begins.

Maybe we can't fix everything that's wrong with our society.

Maybe we can't change every law, every institution, every cultural influence, or every decision being made around us.

But we can build strong families.

We can love our spouses well.

We can raise our children intentionally.

We can honor our parents and grandparents.

We can create homes where people know they are loved.

We can put God at the center of our families and trust Him with what we cannot control.

We can do our part.

Because the family isn't just important to our lives.

The family shapes the next generation.

And the next generation will eventually shape the world.

So yes, I believe Charlie Kirk was right.

The most important institution in society is the family.

And if we want to preserve what is good about our nation, perhaps one of the most important places we can start isn't in Washington, D.C.

It's at our kitchen tables.

It's in our living rooms.

It's in the conversations we have with our children.

It's in the way we love our spouses.

It's in the way we care for our aging parents.

It's in the way we show up for one another.

It's in our homes.

Because if we strengthen the family, we strengthen society.

And if we lose the family, we lose far more than we realize.

The Peace I’m Going After

Recently, I went back and listened to a message of Pastor Chad's again so that I would be able to pause and make all the notes that I was unable to get the first time I heard the message.

I'm in the process of doing the three things he said to do with the "peace pill" scriptures that he gave us:

1. Memorize them.

2. Meditate on them.

3. Practice them.

I made images of each one to put in the photos on my phone so I can go over them daily. I want these verses to become more than words I've read. I want them to become truths I actually live by.

We can never have enough peace in our lives.

If most of us were honest, we need much more peace in our lives than we probably realize we need.

Our lives probably have more drama in them than we want, and sometimes we need to make some changes if we want to have more peace and happiness in our lives.

Life is never without its challenges. There will always be something that needs our attention, something that doesn't go the way we planned, something that worries us, or something that hurts.

But in the midst of those challenges, I want more peace.

More peace than I've ever had.

I'm just at that stage of life where peace means so much more to me. Having peace. Walking daily in peace. Protecting my peace. It's something I want and desire greatly, and for the most part, I've been learning that peace doesn't just happen. I have to pursue it.

If it weren't for God in my life and my guys being so good to me I don't know if my life would have as much peace as it does.

But I've also learned that peace isn't dependent on everything around me being peaceful.

Peace comes from knowing Who is with me in the middle of it.

That's what these scriptures keep reminding me.

Peter tells us to cast all of our cares on Him, because He cares for us.

Paul tells us not to be anxious, but to bring everything to God through prayer and thanksgiving—and then comes that beautiful promise of the peace of God guarding our hearts and minds.

Isaiah tells us that God keeps in perfect peace the person whose mind is stayed on Him because he trusts in Him.

And Psalm 131 gives us such a beautiful picture of a soul that has been calmed and quieted.

That's the kind of peace I want.

Not a temporary peace that comes when everything is going my way.

Not the kind of peace that depends on everyone behaving the way I think they should.

Not the kind of peace that disappears the minute something goes wrong.

I want the kind of peace that only God can give.

And that's why I'm taking Pastor Chad's challenge seriously.

I'm memorizing these verses so that they're there when I need them.

I'm meditating on them so that God's Word becomes what I think about instead of whatever problem happens to be in front of me.

And I'm practicing them because knowing what God's Word says doesn't do me much good if I don't actually live it.

I want these verses to become more than words I've read.

I want them to become how I live.

When I'm anxious, I want to pray.

When I'm overwhelmed, I want to remember who is in control.

When my mind starts running in a hundred different directions, I want to fix my thoughts on God.

When life gets noisy, I want to learn how to quiet my soul.

And when I don't understand what God is doing, I want to trust Him anyway.

Peace is something I want to carry with me—not something I want to wait for.

So these are my "Peace Pills."

I'm taking them daily.

Memorizing them.

Meditating on them.

Practicing them.

And I'm praying that as I do, God's Word will become so much more deeply rooted in me that when life gets hard, His peace will be what rises up first.

Because we may not be able to control everything that happens around us.

But we can choose where we turn when it does.

"Let me hear what God the Lord will speak, for he will speak peace to his people." — Psalm 85:8

That's the peace I want.

And I'm going after it.  

How about you?

Here are the links to the Pastor Chad's messages: 

Living The Good Life, Part 3

Living The Good Life, Part 4

Just click on these links to watch these messages. You can search the churches YouTube page for parts 1 & 2 as well if you want to watch the entire teaching. The entire teaching is so good. Pastor Chad is such a solid teacher of God's Word. 

I Didn't Choose My Childhood, But I Chose My Life

Relatively speaking, we aren't on this earth very long. So why would we want to spend the precious time we've been given living unhappy, holding onto things that happened yesterday, or allowing other people to steal our joy?

We need to make the most of every moment. We need to cherish the people we love, enjoy the life we've been given, and live each day as though it matters—because it does.

Learning how to live a happy life when you've grown up in a very dysfunctional and unhappy home wasn't easy for me. It took some very intentional choices for me to get to the happy life I'm living today.

Most people who meet me today probably think, Look how great she's got it. She's got a great husband and son. They live a good life.

And they would be right.

But it wasn't always this way.

I grew up in a home with an alcoholic father and a mother who enabled him because if she didn't, she would get beaten. My dad was mean when he was drunk, and even when he wasn't drinking, it was still his way or no way.

It's sad, really, that when I look back on my childhood, the things that stick out the most are the ugly things that happened.

Oh sure, there were good things mixed in there too. There were good memories, good times, and moments with my dad that I remember fondly. I'm not trying to erase those or pretend they didn't exist. But when you grow up in an environment where the bad can overshadow the good, unfortunately, those are often the things that stay with you the longest.

But those ugly things also taught me something.

They taught me exactly what I didn't want my life to look like.

They taught me what kind of home I didn't want to create. What kind of marriage I didn't want. What kind of parent I didn't want to be. And, perhaps most importantly, they taught me that I had a choice.

I didn't have a choice about the home I was born into.

But I did have a choice about the home I would create.

And I do have a choice about how I live my life today.

I live a happy life today because of God.

Having Him in my life has been the compass I always needed and wanted—the compass my parents should have been able to provide for me when I was a child.

When God came into my life, I got to be a child again—to some extreme, maybe. 😂

He showed me how to love and how to be loved.

He wrapped His arms around me—figuratively speaking, of course—and showed me a love I'd never known before. An unconditional love that welcomes me back no matter how many times I fail.

He showed me that my past didn't have to determine my future.

And that changed everything.

I've learned that living life happy is a choice.

Just like living life unhappy is a choice.

That doesn't mean life is always easy. It doesn't mean there won't be hard days, disappointments, loss, or things that hurt.

It means we get to decide what we're going to do with the life we've been given.

We can choose to live with purpose.

We can choose gratitude.

We can choose forgiveness.

We can choose to love the way God has called us to love.

We can choose to make a difference.

We can choose to stop allowing yesterday to rob us of today.

And we can choose to be happy.

I love my life.

I love God.

I love my family.

God and my family are my world.

My life isn't perfect, but it is a life I am incredibly thankful for—and I wouldn't trade it for all the money in the world.

We aren't here long enough to waste our days being unhappy.

So love your people.

Cherish your moments.

Make the memories.

Laugh a lot.

Forgive quickly.

Love deeply.

And above all, keep God at the center of it all.

You only get one life here. Don't spend it waiting for someday to be happy.

Live happy.