life

The Real Cost of the Way I Was Spending

/ Yvonne / Leave a comment

A few years ago, I had one of those quiet moments that sneaks up on you.

I was just sitting at my kitchen table with my coffee, scrolling through my bank account. And this thought crossed my mind:

How am I still here?

I had a professional job. A good one. The kind people assume means you must have your life together. I was making good money. I dressed the part, drove a fun car, and had a nice apartment. From the outside, it probably looked like things were going pretty well.

And if I’m being honest, part of me worked really hard to keep that image going.

The clothes had to look right. The car had to look right. Meeting friends for dinner, fun little shopping sprees, and picking up things here and there that made life look a little more polished. It all felt like part of the package of being a successful professional.

But sitting there at that table that morning, staring at my bank account, the truth was hard to ignore.

For someone who supposedly had it together, my money didn’t look like it.

Every month felt the same. My paycheck would come in and, before long, it felt like it had quietly slipped through my fingers. Nothing outrageous or reckless. Just spending here and there that added up faster than I ever expected.

And I kept telling myself the same thing.

Next month I’ll get serious.

Next month I’ll pay closer attention.
Next month I’ll start saving.
Next month I’ll get it together.

But next month kept coming and going.

As I sat there that morning, I started realizing something that made me a little uncomfortable.

A lot of what I was spending money on wasn’t even making me that happy.

It was maintaining a picture.

The picture of someone who was doing well. Someone who had the right things, the right lifestyle, the right look. And the strange part was that no one had really asked me to keep up that image. I had created it myself.

Meanwhile, the things I said I wanted: peace with my money, a sense of security, not feeling that little knot in my stomach when I looked at my bank account, those things were always getting pushed to “later.”

And the truth finally landed.

I had been saying I wanted financial freedom, but I wasn’t willing to give up the habits that were standing in the way of it.

Oh, I knew better. But I had gotten comfortable living a certain way.

The dinners out were easy.
The random shopping trips were fun.
Telling myself I needed to look a certain way felt important.

Sacrifice, on the other hand, sounded uncomfortable.

But sitting there that morning, I had to admit something to myself. The way I was living wasn’t really making me happy anyway.

It looked good from the outside. That’s about it.

And that’s when the question hit me.

What do I want more?

Do I want to keep maintaining this image, or do I want the peace I keep saying I want?

I had to face the fact that you can’t keep doing the same things with your money and expect your financial life to look different one day. Something has to change.

So I started making some adjustments. Nothing extreme.

I chose to cut back on the extras, and it wasn’t because I suddenly stopped liking nice things. It was because I realized I liked the idea of peace more. I wanted to stop living paycheck to paycheck. I wanted to stop the cycle of “I’ll start next month.” And that meant letting go of a few habits that were keeping me stuck right where I was.

At first it felt strange. Like I was stepping away from a version of myself I had been playing for a while.

But over time something unexpected happened.

The pressure lifted.

I stopped feeling like I had to keep up with some invisible standard. I started paying attention to my money in a way I hadn’t before. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was actually in control of it.

That’s when I realized something.

Sacrifice isn’t really about giving things up. It’s about deciding what actually matters to you.

For me, it turned out that peace mattered more than appearances.

And the version of me who eventually built a healthier financial life didn’t live the same way the old version did. She thought about her spending. She paused before saying yes to things that used to be automatic.

It wasn’t because I couldn’t afford them.

It was because I finally understood what they were costing me.

And once you feel the relief of not constantly worrying about money, something becomes very clear.

The real sacrifice wasn’t cutting back on things.

The real sacrifice would have been continuing to live a life that looked good on the outside but didn’t feel good on the inside.

I now drive a sensible car. I moved out of my apartment and could finally afford a house. My clothes are still cute but way more comfortable.

The sacrifice of getting here was temporary.  But the peace I have in my life will last beyond the material things I once tried to find it in.

What If This Is the Moment?

/ Yvonne / Leave a comment

There’s a question most people don’t ask themselves out loud:

How comfortable am I in my own misery?

It’s a hard question to answer because answering it honestly tells you how ready you are for change.

If you’re not sure what your answer is, you can figure it out in a simple way.
Ask yourself this. “How long am I willing to complain or worry about my situation before I decide something different is available to me?”

That is your answer.

I hear people say all the time that they are tired of being stressed about money. They are tired of living paycheck to paycheck. They are tired of feeling behind, tired of arguing about finances, tired of not knowing where their money is going.

And yet, months go by. Sometimes years. Their situation stays the same.

At some point, we have to be honest about what is really happening. The situation might be uncomfortable, but it has also become familiar. And familiar has a way of feeling easier than change.

There is a version of financial stress that people learn how to live with. They know the feeling of checking their account and hoping for the best. They know the tension when a bill comes in. They know the anxiety that is ever-present in everyday life.

It is not that they enjoy it. It is that they have gotten used to it.

Change asks more of you. It asks you to look at your numbers when you would rather avoid them. It asks you to make decisions you have been putting off. It asks you to have conversations that feel uncomfortable. It asks you to take responsibility in a way that can feel confronting.

So instead, many people stay in the cycle because it feels easier than stepping into something unknown.

There’s something we don’t want to admit, even to ourselves. Staying the same has a cost. Every month that passes without a clear plan, without new habits, without any real action, you are paying for that comfort. You may not see it all at once, but it shows up over time. It shows up in stress that never fully goes away. It shows up in missed opportunities. It shows up in the feeling that life could be different, but somehow never is.

There is a moment that changes everything, and it is not when you learn something new about money. Most people already know enough to do better. The change happens when you decide you are no longer willing to stay where you are.

Not because someone told you to change. Not because you feel guilty. But because you are done having the same conversation with yourself over and over again.

That decision is where real financial change begins.

From there, it becomes less about motivation and more about honesty. Looking at what is actually happening with your money. Making choices that reflect what you say you want. Following through even when it feels inconvenient.

Most people get stuck, not from a lack of information, but in the gap between knowing and doing.

This is where financial coaching matters. Not as someone who tells you what you already know, but as someone who helps you see what you have been avoiding that you might not even realize. Someone who helps you put structure around your goals and stay consistent when old patterns try to pull you back.

You know you can stay in the same place for a long time if you are willing to tolerate it.

The real question is how long you plan to.

At some point, you have to decide if you are more comfortable staying in the problem or stepping into the discomfort that comes with changing it.

One keeps you where you are.
The other moves your life forward.

You Can Afford It. But What Is It Costing You?

/ Yvonne / Leave a comment
Captured in the dawn, the tree was enlightened by the rising sun. This moment was caught nearby Lake Chiemsee, Bavaria

What if the “dream” you’ve been chasing is the very thing making you tired?

Not physically tired. Soul tired.

The kind of tired where your calendar is full, your car payment is impressive, and your bank account still makes you a little excited when you open the app.

We were handed a script somewhere along the way. Work hard. Earn more. Upgrade often. Bigger house. Nicer car. Better vacations. Rinse and repeat. And if your neighbor adds a patio, apparently that means you need one too.

Keeping up with the Joneses has turned into an Olympic sport, and most of us are competing in events we didn’t realize we signed up for.

Here’s the honest question. Is it actually making you happy?

I’ve sat with enough people in financial transition to tell you this. The stress rarely comes from not having enough stuff. It comes from having too many obligations. Too many payments. Too many things that looked good on the outside but little by little stole peace on the inside.

Some of you don’t need a raise. You need relief.

Living more simply doesn’t mean selling everything and moving into a tiny cabin in the woods (unless you really want to). It means asking a braver question. What do I actually value?

Do you value margin in your bank account or matching patio furniture? Do you value unhurried dinners at home or the image of being “busy and important”? Do you value freedom or financing?

Jesus talked a lot about this, which I find interesting. In Matthew 6:21 He says, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Not where your intentions are. Not where your Pinterest board is. Where your treasure is.

If your treasure is tied up in appearances, your heart is going to feel stretched thin trying to maintain them and empty trying to convince yourself they have purpose.

I’ve watched clients breathe differently when they decide to simplify. When they downsize the house that felt impressive to friends but heavy to own. When they trade the luxury SUV for something reliable and easier to pay off. When they stop saying yes to every trip, every event, every upgrade, just to prove they can.

At first, it feels like you’re “losing.” Your pride might whine a little. You might worry about what people will think.

Then something surprising happens.

You sleep better.

You check your bank account without that spike of adrenaline.

You start making decisions from intention instead of insecurity.

Living more simply financially can look like fewer monthly payments. A smaller mortgage. A car you actually own. A budget that reflects your real priorities instead of your social media feed. It can look like choosing experiences that matter over optics that impress.

It can also look like finally admitting that the dream you were chasing wasn’t even yours.

Sometimes the “dream life” is just a well-marketed version of someone else’s vision.

Peace, though? That’s personal.

I think about the years in my own life where I was rebuilding. Working multiple jobs. Counting every dollar. I didn’t have the dream house (not even A house) or the polished image. What I did have was clarity. I knew what mattered. My kids. Stability. Faith. A future that didn’t feel like it was balancing on a credit card statement.

Strangely, those were some of the most grounded years of my life. It’s funny how now that I “have it all” I yearn for parts of those days and am actively working to simplify my life again.

There’s a verse in 1 Timothy 6:6 that says, “Godliness with contentment is great gain.” Not Godliness with a side of granite countertops. Just contentment.

Contentment isn’t complacency. It’s confidence. It’s knowing you don’t need to perform financially for anyone else. It’s trusting that provision doesn’t have to come wrapped in comparison. I’m not saying you should give up your job and live like a pauper. What I’m saying is maybe it’s time to reevaluate your lifestyle and what you’ve made important.

If you finally got what you wanted and it still feels like something is missing it could be that you built around expectations instead of convictions.

Living more simply could mean fewer things and more margin. Fewer payments and more generosity. Fewer comparison spirals and more gratitude. It could mean your money finally supporting your life instead of your life constantly trying to support your money.

And that changes everything.

Maybe the goal isn’t to impress the Joneses.

Maybe the goal is to sit at your own table, in your own home, with people you love, and feeling peaceful.

That sounds like a dream worth chasing.

What Are You Hiding (About Your Money)?

/ Yvonne / Leave a comment

Can I ask you something a little uncomfortable?

What are you hiding about your finances?

Not the “we’re fine” version. Not the “inflation is crazy” deflection. I mean the real thing. The thing you don’t say out loud. The thing you quickly change the subject from.

Are you embarrassed of the debt you’ve brought on yourself? Not just that you have it, but that you know exactly how you got it?
Do you swipe and then quietly hope nobody notices?
Do you move money around between accounts just to make it all look… fine?

Are you secretly dreaming of a life where you’re not living paycheck to paycheck—but you’d never admit that to anyone because you make decent money, because other people have it worse, and someone might say, “Well, you should’ve made better choices”?

I want you to sit with that for a minute.

Because a lot of people are walking around looking financially “normal” on the outside while carrying a whole lot of private stress on the inside.

Here’s what I’ve learned, both in my own life and walking with clients through theirs:

It’s not just the debt that weighs on people.
It’s the secrecy.

You go to dinner with friends and split the bill evenly, even though you ordered the cheapest thing on the menu.
You say yes to the trip because you don’t want to be the only one who can’t afford it.
You nod along in conversations about investing and retirement, hoping no one asks you a direct question about how yours is doing.

And then you go home and feel that tightness in your chest.

You tell yourself you should know better by now. You’re smart. You’re capable. You’ve read the books. You’ve listened to the podcasts. You’ve watched the reels. So why does your real life still feel like you’re one unexpected expense away from panic?

Let’s talk about the mental health side for a minute.

There’s a deep shame that comes with money. Especially when the debt feels self-inflicted. Especially when the spending was emotional. Especially when you know the Amazon boxes weren’t about “needing” anything at all.

And then Sunday morning rolls around, and you’re sitting in church, singing about trust… while low-key avoiding your finances.

You love God.
You believe He provides.
But you also know you ordered those shoes.

Both things can be true.

There’s this hidden guilt people carry that says, “If I were more disciplined… more faithful… more mature… I wouldn’t be here.”

That’s not conviction. That’s condemnation. And those are not the same thing.

Conviction nudges you toward change.
Condemnation just keeps you hiding. And hiding is exhausting.

And now you’re stuck with the bill and the story you tell yourself about what that means.

Maybe you’ve even started hiding purchases from your spouse. Or downplaying the balance. Or telling yourself it’s “not that bad” while avoiding the actual number.

Or maybe your secret isn’t debt.

Maybe your secret is that you make good money… and still feel behind.

Maybe your secret is that you’re tired of pretending you’re fine.
Tired of acting grateful for a job that drains you.
Tired of saying “we’re doing okay” when you haven’t felt steady in years.

Or maybe your secret is bigger.

Maybe you want a different life.
A slower one.
A lighter one.
One where you’re not constantly calculating and recalculating and hoping the math works.

But you don’t say that out loud because people might think you’re foolish. Or unrealistic. Or irresponsible for wanting more peace.

So you keep it to yourself.

Here’s what I’ve learned, from my own messy money seasons and from walking with so many of you through yours:

The secret is heavier than the debt.

The pretending is more exhausting than the budgeting.

And the silence? That’s what keeps people stuck.

There is something powerful that happens the moment you tell the truth. Even if it’s just to yourself. Even if it’s whispered.

“I don’t like how this feels.”
“I’m scared.”
“I want something different.”
“I don’t know how to fix this.”

That doesn’t make you foolish. It makes you honest.

And honesty is where change begins.

Money struggles don’t mean you’re bad with money. They often mean you were coping. Surviving. Trying. Learning without a roadmap. Making decisions with the tools you had at the time.

But you don’t have to keep carrying the secret alone.

So let me ask you again, gently this time—

What are you hiding about your finances?

And what would happen if you stopped hiding?

What would it feel like to bring it into the light? To look at it clearly. To stop judging yourself long enough to actually build something better?
You don’t need to have it all figured out.
You just need a moment of courage.

Because the life you quietly dream about, the one where you feel steady, clear, and in control, isn’t reserved for “other people.”

It starts the day you decide the secret doesn’t get to run the show anymore.

The Most Frustrating Part of Fixing Your Finances (That No One Talks About)

/ Yvonne / Leave a comment

There’s a stage of financial growth that doesn’t get celebrated, posted, or talked about much.

It’s the season where you’re trying. Really trying. You’re more aware, more careful, more intentional… but the results feel small and slow. You keep showing up, yet the big changes still seem just out of reach.

That’s the season where patience starts to wear thin.

It’s the waiting.

Not the soothing, inspirational poster with rocks perfectly balanced in a stack next to a flowing river, talking about patience, kind of waiting. I’m talking about the kind where you check your bank app again even though you already know what it says. The kind where you’ve been “doing better” for months and your life still doesn’t look like a money makeover show.

Working on your finances asks for a level of patience that feels almost rude.

You start out motivated. New budget. Fresh goals. Maybe even a color-coded spreadsheet that makes you feel like the CEO of your own life. You’re ready. You’re focused. You’re finally dealing with the stuff you used to avoid.

Then reality strolls in like, “Oh, you wanted progress? That’ll be delivered in small, unimpressive installments over a long period of time.”

Rude.

The hard part is that financial change doesn’t usually come with fireworks. It comes with tiny decisions that feel boring and repetitive. Packing lunch. Logging into your account. Saying “not this time” to something you really want. Moving a little money to savings and trying not to laugh at how small the number looks.

You’re doing the right things, but your feelings are over there tapping their foot like, “Are we rich yet or what?”

This is where patience starts to feel less like a virtue and more like a test of character.

There’s a scripture that comes to mind in Galatians 6:9 about not getting tired of doing good, because in the right season you’ll reap a harvest if you don’t give up. That sounds lovely stitched on a pillow. In real life, it feels more like, “Lord, I am doing the good. I would now like the harvest. Preferably by Friday.”

But money growth follows seasons, not moods. And seasons don’t rush because we’re uncomfortable.

One of the sneakiest things that makes patience harder is comparison. You’re over here, proud that you didn’t overdraft this month, and someone else is posting closing photos in front of a new house with a giant bow on the door. You’re celebrating a paid-off credit card, and somebody else is on a beach talking about “soft life.”

It can make your steady progress feel small, even when it’s taking real effort and courage. You don’t see their backstory, their help, their debt, their stress, or their timing. You just see the highlight reel while you’re in the middle of your training montage.

And let’s be honest, the middle is not glamorous.

The middle is where you’re tired of thinking about money but still have to. It’s where an unexpected car repair shows up like an uninvited guest and eats the money you just saved. It’s where you wonder how you can be trying this hard and still feel like you’re only inching forward.

That’s usually when the old thoughts creep in. “I should have figured this out sooner.” “Why does this feel so hard?” “I’m never going to get where I want to be.”

That spiral can make you want to quit, not because you don’t care, but because you care so much and you’re worn out. Patience feels impossible when you’re emotionally tired.

This is where grace and grit have to team up.

Grace says you’re allowed to be learning. Grit says you’re still getting up tomorrow and making the next wise decision anyway. Even if that decision is small. Even if it’s just paying one bill on time, skipping one impulse buy, or looking at what you owe with honesty instead of pushing the thought away.

Small faithfulness doesn’t feel impressive, but it builds a life that feels steady.

Another verse that fits here is from Proverbs 21:5 about how steady plodding brings prosperity. Plodding is not a glamorous word. Nobody ever says, “I’m just out here plodding my way to financial peace!” But that’s exactly what it often looks like. Slow steps. Repeated choices. Not dramatic. But very effective.

And somewhere in the middle of all that plodding, something starts to change.

You notice you pause before spending. You feel a little less panic when a bill hits. You actually know what’s in your account. You recover from setbacks a bit faster than you used to. Your numbers may not be where you want them yet, but your relationship with money is changing. That’s huge.

Patience with money isn’t about pretending the wait is easy. It’s about deciding the future you’re building is worth the slow, sometimes frustrating process of getting there.

So if you’re in the thick of it, doing the unglamorous work, wishing progress would hurry up already, remind yourself that you’re in the part that builds strength, wisdom, and staying power.

And one day, you’ll look at your life and realize the season that felt the longest was the one that laid the strongest foundation.

Also, when that day comes, you have full permission to look at your bank account, smile, and say, “See? I told you we were getting somewhere.”

Show Me Your Bank Account, and I’ll Show You Your Priorities

/ Yvonne / Leave a comment

We all have a list in our heads.

Family. Faith. Freedom. Health. Peace. Security. Growth. Legacy.

If I asked you what matters most to you, you wouldn’t hesitate. You’d answer with confidence from the heart. And I would believe you.

But if you slid your bank statement across the table…
I’d learn something else too.

Not because you’re lying.

But because money keeps a record of what we actually choose.

Your bank account isn’t trying to teach you a lesson.
It simply tells the truth.

And sometimes, that truth is uncomfortable.

The Gap Between Values and Behavior

Most people don’t struggle with values.
They struggle with alignment.

We say we value:

  • Financial peace, but live paycheck to paycheck..
  • Family time, but buy convenience instead.
  • Freedom, yet finance everything.
  • Health, but ignore our own care.
  • Growth, but we rarely invest in learning or getting help.

Again, this isn’t about shame.
It’s about awareness.

Because money follows behavior.
And behavior follows habits.
And habits often operate without permission from our values.

Your bank account is a mirror.

It reflects what felt urgent.
What felt comforting.
What felt necessary in the moment.

And what felt easier than sitting with discomfort.

Spending Is Emotional, Not Logical

We like to pretend we are rational with money.

We are not.

We spend when we are tired.
We spend when we are bored.
We spend when we are stressed.
We spend when we are trying to feel something.

Sometimes we spend to celebrate.
Sometimes we spend to numb.
Sometimes we spend to belong.
Sometimes we spend to escape.

Your bank statement doesn’t just show transactions.
It shows emotional patterns.

It shows where you run for relief.
It shows what makes you feel safe.
It shows what you use to cope.

And once you see that, you can’t unsee it.

The Story Money Is Telling About You

Imagine your bank account could talk.

It might say:

“I value convenience more than rest.”
“I value comfort more than margin.”
“I value appearances more than peace.”
“I value quick relief more than long-term stability.”
“I value survival over strategy.”

Or it might say:

“I value preparation.”
“I value choice.”
“I value future me.”
“I value flexibility.”
“I value alignment.”

Neither story makes you a good or bad person.

But one story gives you options.
The other quietly removes them.

Priorities Aren’t What You Claim — They’re What You Fund

If something truly matters to you, it shows up in one of three places:

  1. Your calendar
  2. Your energy
  3. Your money

When all three agree, life feels grounded.

When they don’t, life feels heavy.

You can say you want financial freedom, but if every dollar is assigned to comfort, distraction, and reaction, freedom stays theoretical.

You can say you want peace, but if your spending creates pressure, peace stays distant.

You can say you want growth, but if nothing is invested in learning, growth becomes wishful thinking.

This isn’t about cutting joy.

It’s about deciding what kind of joy you want later.

Why This Feels Personal

Money touches everything:

  • How you sleep
  • How you argue
  • How you dream
  • How you choose
  • How you feel about yourself

That’s why conversations about money often feel like conversations about worth, security, control, and identity.

You aren’t just managing numbers.

You are managing your relationship with safety.

So when I say, “Show me your bank account,” what I’m really saying is:

Show me what you protect.
Show me what you fear.
Show me what you trust.
Show me what you avoid.
Show me what you believe about yourself.

The Quiet Power of Alignment

Alignment doesn’t require perfection.

It requires honesty.

Alignment is when your money begins to reflect who you are becoming, not just who you have been.

It’s when you pause before spending and ask,
“Does this support the life I say I want?”

It’s when you stop treating future-you like a stranger.

It’s when your values stop living only in words and start living in the numbers.

Alignment is peaceful.

Even when the numbers are small.

Even when progress is slow.

Because direction matters more than speed.

The Hardest Truth

If your bank account doesn’t match your values, it doesn’t mean you lack discipline.

It often means you lack clarity.

Most people were never taught how to connect values to spending.

They were taught how to earn.
They were taught how to swipe.
They were taught how to survive.

They were rarely taught how to choose.

You Don’t Need a New Budget. You Need a New Conversation.

Not a spreadsheet conversation.

A values conversation.

A “what kind of life do I actually want to fund” conversation.

A “what am I willing to delay for something better” conversation.

A “what am I tired of pretending doesn’t matter” conversation.

Because once your values are clear, the numbers become easier.

Not easy.

But clearer.

A Gentle Challenge

Pull up your last 30 days of spending.

Don’t judge it.
Don’t explain it.
Don’t justify it.

Just observe it.

Then ask:

What does this say I care about?
What does this say I avoid?
What does this say I protect?
What does this say I prioritize?

You may discover that your money isn’t betraying you.

It’s just telling you where you’ve been living on autopilot.

And autopilot can be changed.

This Is Where Real Financial Peace Starts

Not with restriction.

Not with guilt.

Not with comparison.

But with awareness.

When you see your money clearly, you gain choice.

And choice is where peace begins.

Final Thought

Your bank account is not your enemy.

It is your most honest feedback partner.

It shows you where your life is currently funded.

And it quietly invites you to decide if that still fits who you are becoming.

Reflection Question:
If your bank account had to explain your priorities to someone who’s never met you, would you feel proud of the story it tells or want to rewrite it?

If you’re ready to rewrite it, start with one small, honest shift. One choice that supports the life you actually want to live. And let that be enough for today.

If you’d like help making your money match the life you actually want, I’d love to support you. You can schedule a conversation with me when you’re ready.

You can even do a one time jump start session to get you going in the right direction dhttps://meetings.tulincu.com/public/693db1c6538dba003187eb5d

Why Are You Holding Yourself There?

/ Yvonne / Leave a comment

I’m going to say what you’ve probably been thinking:

You’re worn out.

Not in the “I should go to bed earlier” way. More in the “I’m carrying ten different worries and pretending I’m fine” way.

Trying to figure out how you’ll ever buy a home when everything feels overpriced.
Trying to rebuild financially after a divorce that flipped your life inside out.
Trying to stop the money disagreements with your partner because you both look at dollars and bills through completely different lenses.

It adds up.
And it weighs on you in ways people don’t always see.

But you’re not just tired of the situation.
You’re tired of feeling like you’re doing everything you can… and still not getting anywhere.

And deep down, you might be waiting.

Waiting for the “right time.”
Waiting until life settles.
Waiting until you’re less stressed, less busy, less overwhelmed.

But think about it… when was the last time life slowed down for any of us?

You might be telling yourself you’ll start once things calm down.
But somehow, every week comes with a new fire to put out.

And while you’re waiting?

Time keeps moving.

The next six months are coming whether you’re ready or not.
The next year is still going to show up, even if you spend the whole time in pause mode.
Life isn’t going to tap you on the shoulder and say, “Okay, now’s a good moment.”

Life is going to happen, with or without you.

And I’m saying this with love:

If you keep waiting for life to feel peaceful, you’ll be waiting forever.

I’m not judging you. I’ve lived this.
I’ve stalled.
I’ve told myself, “I’ll start once things slow down.”
Meanwhile, life kept tossing curveballs, and I was still trying to figure out how to make a dollar behave.

And somewhere in all this, there’s a steady nudge from God that says:

“Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and your plans will succeed.” (Proverbs 16:3)

It doesn’t say after you fix everything.
It doesn’t say once everything is organized, clean, and predictable.
It just says: Commit.

Show up as you are.
In the mess.
With the fear.
With the busy schedule.
With the long list of worries.

Because God doesn’t need perfect timing. He just needs willingness.

You might feel like you have too much going on to start fixing your finances.

But imagine how heavy things will feel six months from now if nothing changes.

Imagine being in the exact same spot or even further behind a year from today:
Still overwhelmed, still guessing, still exhausted.

That’s the part we don’t think about enough.

Waiting isn’t neutral.
It costs you peace.
It costs you progress.
It costs you time you can’t get back.

And look, you’re not asking for a yacht.
You’re not trying to impress anybody.
You just want stability.
A future that feels steady.
A home that doesn’t stretch every part of you thin.
A bank account that doesn’t give you heartburn.

You deserve that.
Not someday.
Not “when things settle.”
Now.

And you can get there by starting with small, doable steps that don’t require your whole life to be perfect first.

So if you’re sitting there thinking:

“I’m drowning in decisions.”
or
“I can’t focus on this right now. I have too much going on.”

Let me gently ask:

Isn’t that the exact reason to start now?

Life won’t magically get easier.
But you can get stronger, clearer, and more prepared, one step at a time.

Imagine where you could be next year if you started today.
Imagine looking back thinking, “I’m glad I didn’t wait again.”

And when you’re ready, I’ll walk with you.
We’ll get your finances steadier.
We’ll get your credit where it needs to be.
We’ll get you prepared to buy a home without losing your mind.

Because you’re not too late.
You’re just at a turning point, and it’s time to move forward, not keep waiting for permission from a moment that may never come.

You Didn’t Struggle For Nothing

/ Yvonne / Leave a comment

Some of the challenges this year felt more like “Lord, are You sure I’m built for this?” moments than “I’m so thankful” moments.
This year might’ve handed you a few struggles you didn’t see coming.
Bills, surprises, decisions, mistakes, lessons — the whole package.

Even so… you’re here. And that says something.

I won’t pretend the tough moments were pleasant. Nobody sits there saying, “Wow, this financial setback is really blessing my spirit today.”
But those same moments changed you in ways comfort never could.

Because it grows you.

As much as we don’t like it, the hard seasons teach us more about money and ourselves than the easy ones ever will.
Nobody learns discipline when the paycheck is overflowing.
No character is built when the bills are light.
And nobody cries out to God for guidance when everything is smooth and easy.

It’s in the struggle that we learn things we wouldn’t have learned any other way.

Being thankful for the lessons doesn’t mean you enjoyed the struggle.

It just means you refused to let it break you.

Maybe this year forced you to take budgeting seriously.
Maybe a financial surprise pushed you to rethink your priorities.
Maybe you had to let go of something you weren’t ready to release.
Or maybe you finally realized you were tired of repeating the same cycle repeatedly.

Whatever your story is, every challenge added something to you: strength, clarity, or courage.

James 1:2–4 says to “count it all joy” when we face trials because those trials shape endurance.
Endurance isn’t pretty, but it will carry you financially further than any “perfect plan” ever will.

The hard stuff teaches:

1. Discipline over impulse

When money is tight, you learn the difference between needs, wants, and “maybe I’ll just walk away before I talk myself into this.”

2. Patience while you wait for better

Waiting for progress teaches you to stop comparing your life to everyone else’s highlight reel.

3. Courage to face your numbers even when they scare you

You learned to open the banking app and check that balance more regularly.
(Yes, your heart raced, but you did it.)

4. Wisdom that keeps you from repeating old mistakes

Nothing will make you wiser than a financial lesson that slapped you once.
You don’t need it slapping you twice.

There’s nothing like a hard-hitting mistake to make you say, “Oh, I’m never doing that again.”

5. Gratitude for the progress you have made

Small wins count.
Tiny steps count.
And survival counts too.

Maybe you didn’t hit every goal, but you’re not where you used to be.
Small steps still move you forward.

As Thanksgiving gets close, take a moment to be thankful, if not for the struggle itself, maybe for the strength it produced.

You’re more aware of your habits.
Your boundaries are clearer.
Your goals make more sense.
And the person you’re becoming is stronger than the person who started this year.

Sometimes God lets us walk through the hard places so we can finally see what we’re capable of and so we stop thinking about money the same old way. Sometimes the struggle is what finally pushes us into real financial change – the kind that lasts, not the kind that fades after three weeks of motivation.

So if this year stretched you… good! Be thankful you’re not who you used to be.
Be thankful for what you learned.
Be thankful that the next version of your life is being built on solid ground.

Be thankful you’re heading into the new year with sharper skills, better habits, and a whole new level of confidence.

Let the credit go to God for carrying you, and let the credit card stay in your wallet while you build on everything you gained.

That’s something to be thankful for.

And if you feel like you’re not quite there yet but would like to be, start the new year strong by scheduling a call with me. It’s free! It’s never too late to get on the right path.

Schedule Here

The Hidden Lesson Behind Those Gifts on the Porch

/ Yvonne / Leave a comment

I remember being a little kid, maybe five or six, coming home one cold winter night with my sister and parents to our tiny house heated by a coal burning stove. It was around Christmas, and we’d been gone all day. When we got back, there were gifts sitting on the back doorstep, one for every single person in the family.

And in my little kid brain, I thought, Wow, Santa really outdid himself this year! I remember feeling so happy, so excited. It felt magical.

What I didn’t understand then, and what hit me a lot later, was that those gifts weren’t from Santa. They were from people in town who knew we didn’t have much that year. People who quietly showed up to make sure we still had a Christmas.

And I’ll be honest, when I figured that out as an adult, it hit hard. Because that’s when I realized… we were probably the poorest family in town.

Now, as a kid, you don’t think much about money. You just know what you have and what you don’t. But growing up with that kind of experience, it stuck with me. It planted this belief deep down that not having money meant something about me. That if I wasn’t doing well financially, I was somehow “less than.”

And for a long time, I carried that into adulthood.

If I wasn’t making enough money, I felt embarrassed. If someone asked how much I made or what I did for work, I’d tense up a little. Even when I started doing okay, there was still this fear in the back of my mind that it could all disappear, that I might end up back on that porch, being the family that needed someone else to show up for them.

That kind of shame can run deep. It shows up in the way you spend, the way you save, even in the way you talk about money. You might feel guilty for having it, or guilty for not having enough of it. And the truth is, neither one feels good.

It took me years to unlearn that. To realize that my worth has nothing to do with my income. That money isn’t good or bad. It’s just a tool. And when you know how to use it, it can give you options, peace, and the freedom to help others the way someone once helped my family.

That night, those mystery gifts on the doorstep, they taught me a lot more than I realized at the time. They taught me about kindness, about quiet generosity, and about what it feels like to be on the receiving end of grace.

Now, when I think about money, I think about that balance between giving and receiving, between being smart with what you have and being grateful for what you’ve been given.

And I think maybe that’s something we all need to remember. You can grow up poor, make mistakes, feel shame, and still learn how to create a healthy relationship with money.

We need to learn being broke isn’t permanent. But the lessons it teaches you about resilience, about gratitude, about empathy – those can change your life forever.

If you’d like some tips and tricks on dealing with holiday spending or personal finance all year round, follow me on any social media platform.

https://www.instagram.com/tulinc_coaching/

https://www.facebook.com/TuLincU/

https://www.linkedin.com/in/yvonneclark/

TikTok @tulinc_coaching

(YouTube channel coming soon)

And if you’d like to schedule a free call with me, go here– https://tulincu.com/

The Addiction No One Talks About

/ Yvonne / Leave a comment

I saw this quote recently, and I swear it leapt off the screen and side-eyed me:
“If you don’t think you’re addicted to something, try fasting from it.”

Well… that felt a little personal.

Because my first thought was, Oh, I could give up anything if I had to.
And then I imagined going a week without coffee, Amazon, or that little thrill I get when I see “Your order has shipped.”
Suddenly, I realized, yeah, maybe I am a little addicted.

Financial Fasting Hits Different

Now, before you think I’m suggesting a wilderness fast with no water and locusts, calm down. I’m talking about a financial fast; no unnecessary spending for a set time.

No takeout. No “just one quick Target run.” No late-night scrolling on Etsy, convincing yourself you need another candle that smells like “Peaceful Rainforest Serenity.”

If you want to know what’s got a grip on you, try saying no to it for seven days.
The first day, you’ll feel strong. Day two, you’ll justify everything. By day three, you’ll be eyeing your debit card like it’s the last donut in the box.

The moment you tell yourself no, you start to see what’s really driving the yes. But that’s where the learning happens.

What God Showed Me

When I went through my divorce, I didn’t just lose a marriage; I lost my sense of safety. And without realizing it, I tried to buy that feeling back. New clothes, dinners out, little treats “to cheer myself up.”

And I remember God nudging me one day: “You’re trying to fill an emotional hole with financial band-aids.”

Ouch again.

Because He was right. What I really needed was peace. Not another Amazon box on my porch.

Money wasn’t my problem. My need for comfort was.
And only God could really meet that need.

The Real Addiction

It’s not always the spending we’re hooked on.
It’s the feeling it gives us. The comfort, control, or distraction.
And when those feelings fade, we’re right back where we started, wallet lighter and heart still hungry.

That’s why fasting, financial or otherwise, can be such a powerful reset. It’s not about deprivation. It’s about revelation.

When we stop feeding the habit, we start hearing from God in the quiet.
And He has this funny way of showing us what we’ve been running from… and what we actually need.

Let’s Dig a Little Deeper

Here’s where the life coach in me steps in:
If you find yourself overspending, ask what need you’re really trying to meet.

Are you buying to feel seen?
To escape stress?
To reward yourself because no one else is clapping for your effort?
Or maybe, you’re trying to create a sense of control in a life that feels unpredictable.

When you can name the feeling behind the behavior, you start to break the pattern.
And when you bring that awareness to God, He can actually heal the part of you that’s reaching for something temporary to soothe something deeper.

Try It

Pick one thing to fast from financially. It might be DoorDash, Amazon, Starbucks, or online browsing when you’re bored.

Every time the urge hits, stop and ask:

  • What am I feeling right now?
  • What am I hoping this purchase will fix?
  • Is there another way I can meet that need, spiritually, emotionally, or practically?

Then invite God into that space.
Pray. Take a walk. Journal. Call a friend.
You’ll start to see what’s been running your money (and maybe your peace) without your permission.

Sometimes the problem isn’t that we don’t have enough money.
It’s that we’re spending to fill a void only God and a little self-honesty can heal.

And when you fast from what controls you, you finally make room for what frees you.

And hey, if you make it all seven days without an Amazon relapse, reward yourself with… well, prayer. Or maybe a walk. But not another candle, okay? (And no—adding just one thing to your Amazon cart “for later” doesn’t count as fasting. Nice try.)