life

A Different Kind of Wealth

/ Yvonne / Leave a comment

I brought my dad lunch and visited with him for a while the other day. After giving him his food, I sat down to complete his menu for the coming week while he began telling stories about “the good ol’ days.”

I’ve heard these stories countless times, but I still listen. I still laugh along with him. Because these stories are part of who he is, and I want to keep hearing them for as long as he wants to tell them.

See, my dad has Alzheimer’s.

You probably wouldn’t realize it during your first few visits. Even after all these years of living with the disease, he’s still pretty cognizant, and having a normal conversation with him is easy. He can tell you stories from his childhood, his younger years, and the places he’s been.

You might not catch on until you’ve heard the same story for the 30th time. Sometimes more than once during a single visit.

As he told his stories that day, some making him smile and others bringing a tear to his eye, I found myself thinking about the life he remembers.

He has lived through so many changes. Technology, conveniences, and advancements that would have been unimaginable when he was young are now part of everyday life.

And yet, when he talks about the times he remembers most fondly, they often seem to be the simplest ones.

The times when life may have been harder, but something about it felt different.

There is appreciation in his stories. Purpose. Community.

And food.

He still talks about the best chili he ever ate. It was in a small-town diner in North Dakota, a little place with floors so clean you could eat off them. He remembers how the servers somehow kept their uniforms bright white and completely unstained.

He remembers details that might seem insignificant to someone else, but to him, they were part of what made that place special.

Then there are the summer evenings.

When the heat settled in, the neighbors would gather at one house or another. The women would be in the kitchen, cooking and laughing, while the only fan in the house pushed what little cool air it could through the rooms.

The smell of food would drift outside, where the men gathered. Maybe they were playing a yard game. Maybe they were just standing around, drinking a beer, laughing, and talking.

Eventually, everyone would come together to share the food.

The evening would stretch on until the women headed outside to cool off, and the men stayed inside to clean the kitchen. Then, somehow, everyone would gather around the table again, squeezing in together to play board games until late into the night.

Nothing fancy.

Just people, food, laughter, and time spent together.

As I listened to my dad tell these stories, I started thinking about how much our lives have changed. We have more conveniences, more choices, and more ways to spend our time and money than the generations before us could have imagined.

And yet, so many of the things he remembers most fondly had very little to do with what people owned.

They had to do with how people lived.

They gathered around tables. They shared food. They knew their neighbors. They found ways to enjoy an evening without needing to spend money to make it special.

There was purpose in the work, appreciation for what they had, and a sense of community that seems harder to find these days.

That doesn’t mean life was perfect back then. It wasn’t. People had their struggles, and many things were harder than they are today. But listening to my dad reminded me that having more doesn’t always mean feeling more fulfilled.

And that got me thinking about something I see in my financial coaching practice.

I see so many people who are searching for something. They may not be able to tell you exactly what it is, but they know they want to feel different.

Sometimes it’s comfort. Sometimes it’s happiness, excitement, security, or a sense of being valued.

And sometimes, without even realizing it, they turn to spending money to find it.

A new outfit might make them feel confident for a little while. A purchase for the house might give them something to look forward to. A shopping trip might provide a much-needed escape from a difficult day.

There is nothing wrong with enjoying those things. Spending money on something you want can be a perfectly healthy part of life.

But there is a difference between spending because something genuinely adds value to your life and spending because you’re hoping it will fill a feeling that has been missing.

That difference matters.

Especially when life changes.

A divorce can leave you trying to figure out who you are outside of a marriage. Becoming an empty nester can leave a quiet house where there used to be noise, activity, and a sense of being needed. Retirement can change your daily routine and your sense of purpose. A career change can leave you wondering whether you made the right decision.

Even when these changes are ones you wanted, they can still bring unexpected emotions.

And when you’re trying to adjust to a new chapter, spending can sometimes feel like a small way to regain control, create comfort, or remind yourself that you still deserve something good.

The problem is that the feeling doesn’t always last.

The purchase arrives. The excitement fades. And whatever longing that was underneath it is still there.

So you spend again.

Over time, those purchases can begin to affect your finances in ways you never intended. Your credit card balances grow. Your savings get used up. You make more money, but somehow there never seems to be enough left at the end of the month.

And you may find yourself wondering, “Where is all my money going?”

That is a question worth exploring, not just with a calculator, but with a little curiosity about what is happening in your life.

Because sometimes money becomes what you use to try to feel something else.

Something that used to come from connection, purpose, security, or simply feeling content with your life.

My dad’s stories reminded me that those things don’t have to come from having the newest, biggest, or best of everything.

Sometimes they come from a clean little diner in North Dakota, a kitchen full of laughter, or a table surrounded by people who are glad you’re there.

And sometimes, finding your way back to those things can change more than your spending.

It can change the way you feel about your life, your money, and what you really want your next chapter to look like.

Before We Blame the Budget, Let’s Look at the Why

/ Yvonne / Leave a comment

You know those nights when you’ve just had enough?

You’ve been going all day.

You’re tired.

Your brain is tired.

Your patience is tired.

You go grocery shopping, and all you can think about is getting home.

You unload the groceries.

You put some of them away.

And then you order a pizza.

Wait.

Didn’t we just go grocery shopping?

Yes.

Yes, we did.

There is literally food in the refrigerator.

But we don’t care.

Because tonight, we’re done.

We don’t want to cook.

We don’t want to think about what to cook.

We don’t want another decision.

We just want someone to bring us a pizza.

So we order it.

And maybe a little treat to go with it.

Then we sit down on the couch.

Finally.

We can relax.

We turn on the television and start scrolling through the streaming services.

Netflix.

Hulu.

Amazon Prime.

Disney+.

Whatever else we’re paying for this month.

And somehow, after scrolling through all of them, we decide there is absolutely nothing to watch.

So what do we do?

We pay $20 for a movie.

A movie we could have probably watched on one of the four streaming services we’re already paying for if we’d had the patience to look long enough.

But we don’t.

Because tonight isn’t really about the movie.

And it probably wasn’t really about the pizza either.

See, sometimes we’re not spending money because we want something.

We’re spending money because we want to feel something different. Or feel nothing at all.

We want the day to be over.

We want our brain to shut up for a minute.

We want to be taken care of.

We want something easy.

We want comfort.

We want a reward for making it through the day.

And sometimes spending money is the quickest way we know how to get there.

That’s the part of our spending that can be really hard to see.

Because when we look at the bank account, all we see is:

Pizza.

Treat.

Movie.

$20 here.

$15 there.

And we think:

“Why am I always spending so much money?”

But maybe a better question is:

“What was I really looking for when I spent that money?”

One of my clients had a moment like this recently.

She had gone grocery shopping.

She had food in the house.

And then she ordered pizza.

Then she bought another treat.

Then she got home, sat on the couch and spent $20 on a movie even though she already had multiple streaming services.

And instead of just brushing it off, she stopped.

She looked at what she’d done.

And she asked herself:

“Why did I do that?”

That question was the breakthrough because she finally became curious about her own behavior.

Instead of saying:

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

She asked:

“Why did I?”

That’s a very different question.

How often do we do things with our money without really knowing why?

We buy something because we’re stressed.

We order dinner because we’re exhausted.

We go shopping because we’re bored.

We buy something new because we need a little excitement.

We treat ourselves because we’ve had a hard week.

We spend because we feel like we deserve something.

We buy something because everyone else seems to have it.

We shop when we’re lonely.

We spend when we’re celebrating.

We spend when we’re sad.

We spend when we’re angry.

Heck, sometimes we spend when we’re just having a Tuesday.

And most of the time, we don’t stop to ask ourselves what’s really happening.

We just swipe.

Click.

Order.

Done.

Until the credit card bill shows up.

And then we’re staring at the statement wondering how we managed to spend that much money.

But one thing I do know; our spending usually makes sense to us in the moment.

That’s why telling ourselves, “I just need to stop spending so much” doesn’t always work.

Because in the moment, the spending is solving something.

Maybe not a financial problem.

An emotional one.

The pizza solves the problem of being too tired to cook.

The shopping trip solves the problem of boredom.

The new purse gives us a little excitement.

The Amazon package gives us something to look forward to.

The $20 movie gives us two hours where we don’t have to think about the day we just had or some other situation we’re dealing with.

And for a little while…it works.

That’s what makes it so easy to repeat.

But what happens when the feeling wears off?

The pizza is gone.

The treat is gone.

The movie ends.

The package arrives.

The excitement fades.

And we’re left with the same stress.

The same exhaustion.

The same loneliness.

The same problems.

Except now we’ve spent money too.

And that’s when we start beating ourselves up.

“I have got to get better with money.”

“I don’t know why I do this.”

“I need more discipline.”

“I can’t seem to stick to a budget.”

Maybe.

But maybe we need to look a little deeper.

Because if we’re using money to make ourselves feel better, then the problem isn’t simply that we’re spending too much.

We’re asking our money to do a job it was never designed to do.

Money can buy comfort.

But it can’t create peace.

It can buy dinner.

But it can’t fix exhaustion.

It can buy something beautiful.

But it can’t fix insecurity.

It can buy entertainment.

But it can’t make us happy when we’re unhappy with our lives.

It can give us a temporary escape.

But eventually, we have to come back.

And sometimes that little escape costs us a lot more than we realize.

Not just financially.

So what if we stopped judging ourselves long enough to get curious?

The next time we find ourselves making one of those purchases that makes us think, “Why did I buy that?”, let’s pause.

Not to shame ourselves.

Just to notice.

Ask:

What was I feeling right before I bought it?

Was I tired?

Stressed?

Bored?

Lonely?

Overwhelmed?

Was I looking for a reward?

Was I trying to escape my day?

Was I trying to make myself feel better?

Was I trying to fill some empty space?

And then ask:

What did I expect this purchase to do for me?

That’s the question I really want us to start asking.

Because sometimes the answer has very little to do with the thing we’re buying.

And maybe that’s where our financial breakthrough starts.

Not with another budget.

Not with cutting every little pleasure out of our lives.

Not with deciding we’re never ordering pizza again.

Because let’s be honest. Sometimes we just want pizza.

And I’m not taking that away from anybody.

The goal isn’t to make ourselves miserable in the name of financial responsibility.

The goal is to understand ourselves well enough that we are making the decision instead of the emotion making it for us.

There’s a difference between:

“I don’t feel like cooking tonight, and I have room in my budget, so I’m ordering pizza.”

and:

“I’ve had a horrible day and I don’t want to deal with anything else, so I’m ordering pizza, a treat, and a $20 movie because I just want to check out for a while.”

From the outside, those purchases look almost identical.

But they’re not. One is a choice. The other is a coping mechanism.

And if we don’t recognize the difference, we can spend a whole lot of money trying to feel better.

That $20 movie might have been the best $20 my client ever spent.

Not because the movie was great.

She doesn’t even remember much about it.

But because it made her stop. It made her notice. It made her ask the question.

“Why did I do that?”

And once we start asking ourselves that question without judgment, we start seeing things differently.

We begin to notice our patterns.

We notice what triggers our spending.

We notice the stories we tell ourselves.

We notice when we’re using money as a reward.

We notice when we’re using it as an escape.

We notice when we’re buying something because we genuinely want it…

and when we’re buying something because we desperately want to feel different.

And that awareness is powerful.

Because we can’t change what we refuse to look at.

So tonight, if you find yourself standing in the kitchen staring at a full refrigerator while opening the food delivery app…

I’m not going to tell you not to order the pizza.

I’m just going to ask you to pause for a second.

Take a breath.

And ask yourself:

“What do I really need right now?”

Maybe the answer is pizza.

And that’s okay.

But maybe it’s rest.

Maybe it’s comfort.

Maybe it’s a break.

Maybe it’s connection.

Maybe it’s permission to admit that you’re exhausted.

And if you can figure out what you really need, you might discover that sometimes the thing we’re trying to buy isn’t actually what we’re looking for.

And that realization can change more than our spending.

It can change our relationship with money.

And maybe even our relationship with ourselves.

When Normal Life Starts Feeling Unaffordable

/ Yvonne / Leave a comment

Back-to-school shopping is supposed to be exciting.

New clothes. New shoes. Fresh notebooks. School supplies. Maybe a backpack that isn’t falling apart after being dragged through another school year.

But sometimes, instead of excitement, you’re standing in the checkout line doing mental math.

Do I have enough in checking?

Should I put this on the credit card?

Maybe I can pay it off next month.

I still need to get the shoes.

And then there’s the school fee I forgot about.

And the field trip.

And the sports registration.

And suddenly, what should have been a normal back-to-school expense has turned into another financial juggling act.

And if you’re already feeling stretched, there’s another thought sitting in the back of your mind:

The holidays are coming.

You almost don’t want to think about it.

Because if back-to-school spending was this hard, how are you going to handle Thanksgiving, Christmas, gifts, travel, food, decorations and everything else that seems to show up between November and December?

So you do what you’ve probably done before.

You put it on the credit card.

You tell yourself you’ll figure it out later.

And maybe you will.

But “later” has a way of becoming next month.

Next month becomes next year.

And before you know it, you’re still paying for last Christmas while trying to figure out how you’re going to afford this one.

You’re tired of living this way.

And you’re frustrated because you’re not talking about luxury vacations or designer clothes or buying things you don’t need.

You’re talking about normal life.

Groceries. Car repairs. School supplies. A trip to the doctor. Birthday gifts. Home repairs. A child’s sports fees. Christmas presents…

Things happen.

Life happens.

And every time it does, your first thought is:

“How am I going to pay for this?”

That constant uncertainty is exhausting and a big mental load.

It’s checking your bank account before you say yes to something.

It’s avoiding opening the credit card statement.

It’s moving money from one account to another.

It’s paying one bill late so you can pay another one on time.

It’s telling yourself, “We’ll catch up next month.”

It’s feeling like you’re making decent money, but somehow there’s never enough left.

And maybe you’ve even tried to fix it.

You’ve downloaded the budgeting app.

You’ve promised yourself you’re going to stop spending.

You’ve watched the videos.

You’ve tried the cash envelopes.

You’ve cut a few subscriptions.

And somehow…

things have barely changed.

You’re still stressed.

Still wondering where the money went.

Still using debt to cover things that shouldn’t require debt.

What if the problem is deeper than the budget?

What if you simply haven’t stopped long enough to figure out what’s really happening?

Because sometimes the problem isn’t one giant financial mistake.

It’s a hundred little decisions.

The $30 here.

The $50 there.

The convenience purchase because you’re exhausted.

The dinner out because nobody felt like cooking.

The online purchase because you had a rough day.

The subscription you don’t use anymore but still pay for.

The “I’ll just put it on the card” decision.

The spending that doesn’t feel significant in the moment but adds up over the course of a month.

And sometimes it’s not even about spending too much.

Sometimes your life has simply changed, but your financial plan hasn’t changed with it.

Your income changed.

Your family changed.

Your priorities changed.

Your expenses changed.

Maybe you went through a divorce.

Maybe you had a baby.

Maybe you bought a house.

Maybe your kids got older and their expenses increased.

Maybe you started a business.

Maybe you changed jobs.

Maybe you’re helping your parents while still supporting your kids.

Maybe you’re approaching retirement and realizing the way you’ve been managing money isn’t going to work anymore.

Life changes.

Your money has to change with it.

You don’t need another lecture about what you’re doing wrong.

You need clarity.

You need to know where your money is actually going.

You need to understand the spending patterns that are keeping you stuck.

You need to know what expenses are coming before they arrive.

You need a plan for the irregular expenses that aren’t really irregular at all.

Because Christmas isn’t an emergency.

Back-to-school isn’t an emergency.

Your car needing maintenance isn’t an emergency.

Your insurance bill isn’t an emergency.

They may be unexpected in the moment, but most of these expenses are predictable.

And when predictable expenses keep becoming emergencies, that’s a sign that something in your financial system needs to change.

Because your current system isn’t working.

Imagine getting to December without the panic.

Imagine knowing what you can spend on Christmas before you start shopping.

Imagine not needing to put every gift on a credit card.

Imagine opening January’s credit card statement and not having a mountain of Christmas debt staring back at you.

Imagine handling the next school expense without wondering which bill you’re going to sacrifice.

Imagine having money set aside for the things you know are coming.

Imagine having room to breathe.

That’s what financial clarity can give you.

Not a perfect financial life. Not a life where nothing unexpected ever happens.

But a life where unexpected things don’t completely derail you.

You don’t want to keep living like this.

I think that’s the part we don’t talk about enough.

Eventually, it’s not just:

“I need to get better at budgeting.”

It becomes:

“I don’t want to live like this anymore.”

I don’t want to be stressed every time something comes up.

I don’t want to keep going into debt for normal life.

I don’t want to dread the holidays because I know what they’re going to do to my finances.

I don’t want to feel like I’m making money just to watch it disappear.

I don’t want to spend my life worrying about whether there’s going to be enough.

I want my money to support the life I’m actually living.

If that’s where you are right now, maybe this is the season to stop simply trying to survive each expense as it comes.

Take a step back.

Look at the whole picture.

Look at where your money is going.

Look at what has changed.

Look at what matters most to you now.

And then make a plan that actually fits your life.

Because you deserve more than constantly trying to force the numbers work.

You deserve to feel confident about your money.

And maybe this year, instead of making another promise to “do better next month,” you decide that you’re ready to do things differently.

Life changes.

Money changes.

Together, we can navigate both.

Do You Know What You Really Want?

/ Yvonne / Leave a comment

One of the most important questions you can ask yourself is simply this:

“Do I know what I really want?”

Most people would answer that question with confidence.

“I want financial freedom.”

“I want less stress.”

“I want more time with my family.”

“I want to get out of debt.”

“I want to retire someday.”

Those all sound like great answers. But if we slowed down and looked at the way we actually spend our time, our energy, and our money, would our daily choices tell the same story?

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve talked with someone who tells me they’re exhausted. They desperately want a better work-life balance. They miss their kids’ ball games. They want to take a vacation without answering work emails every ten minutes. They dream about slowing down.

Then their employer offers overtime.

Without even thinking about it, they say yes. Again. And again.

Now, before you think I’m criticizing overtime, I’m not. There are times when working extra hours is necessary. Sometimes it’s how you keep the lights on. Sometimes it’s how you build a safety net. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with working hard.

But I do think it’s worth asking a deeper question.

Why did you say yes?

Was it because your family really needed the income? Or because somewhere along the way, your lifestyle slowly became more expensive than your paycheck?

Was it because you’re working toward a meaningful goal? Or because you’ve become so accustomed to earning that extra money you can’t imagine saying no?

The answer isn’t always obvious, and that’s exactly why it’s worth exploring.

Our financial decisions are rarely just financial. They’re emotional. They’re habitual. They’re often tied to beliefs we’ve carried for years without ever questioning them.

Many of us spend our lives chasing things we never stopped to ask if we actually wanted.

We chase promotions because that’s what successful people do.

We buy bigger houses because that’s what everyone around us seems to be doing.

We fill our schedules because busy people must be productive people, right?

We upgrade our cars, our phones, our wardrobes, and somehow convince ourselves that this next purchase will finally make life feel complete.

Yet somehow, despite earning more than we ever imagined we would, we still feel anxious.

We still wonder why peace seems so hard to find. This exact thing happened to me.

I’ve often wondered how many people are living someone else’s definition of success.

Maybe that’s because we’ve been told from an early age that success always looks like more. More money. More stuff. More accomplishments. More recognition.

But what if success actually looks different for you?

What if what you really want isn’t a bigger paycheck?

What if what you really want is dinner around the table with your family?

What if you don’t actually want the corner office (and all the responsibilities that come with it)?

What if you want margin in your schedule so you can coach your daughter’s softball team or finally take that mission trip you’ve always talked about?

What if you don’t need a bigger house? What if you just need more contentment inside the one you already have?

Those questions can be uncomfortable because they force us to examine whether our money is supporting our priorities or competing with them.

Our calendars and bank statements are incredibly honest. They reveal what we value, even when our words say something different.

If someone looked at nothing but your calendar and your bank account, what story would they tell about your life?

Would they conclude that faith is important to you?

Would they see that your family comes first?

Would they believe that peace and health are priorities?

Or would they see someone who is constantly chasing the next thing, hoping it will finally be enough?

I don’t ask those questions to create guilt.

I ask them because I’ve had to ask them of myself.

Life has a way of putting us on autopilot. We get busy surviving. We make decisions without thinking. We repeat habits because that’s what we’ve always done.

Before long, we’re living a life we never intentionally chose.

One of the things I love about Scripture is that God consistently invites us to examine our hearts. He isn’t nearly as interested in appearances as He is in our motives.

Jesus talked about money often, not because money was the point, but because it reveals what we treasure. It exposes where we place our trust, where we seek security, and sometimes even where we’re trying to fill holes that only He can fill.

Shopping is a great distraction but it can’t buy peace. No paycheck can purchase contentment. No promotion can replace purpose.

Those things come from knowing who you are and living in alignment with what matters most.

Financial coaching isn’t just about creating a budget or paying off debt. Those things are important, but they’re only part of the picture.

Real financial transformation begins when you become clear about the life you’re trying to build. Because once you’re clear about what you truly want, your financial decisions become much simpler.

Not always easier, but clearer.

You begin saying yes to things that support your priorities and no to things that don’t.

You stop comparing your journey to everyone else’s.

You stop buying things to impress people whose opinions don’t actually matter.

You stop believing that more is always better.

Instead, you begin building a life that reflects your values instead of your impulses.

So today, I want to leave you with the same question we started with.

Do you know what you really want?

Not what culture tells you to want. Not what your neighbors have. Not what social media celebrates.

What do you want?

Because if you don’t answer that question intentionally, the world will answer it for you. And before long, you’ll wake up one day wondering how you ended up living a life that doesn’t look anything like the one you were hoping for.

Your money is a tool. Every dollar you earn is an opportunity to move closer to the life God is calling you to live.

The question is, are you using it to build the life you truly want…or the life you accidentally drifted into?

What Are You Still Leaning On?

/ Yvonne / Leave a comment

Have you ever watched someone walk on crutches?

At first, they serve an important purpose. They provide support while an injury heals. They keep us from putting too much weight on something that’s still fragile. But eventually, there comes a day when the doctor says it’s time to let them go. Time to trust the healing. Time to begin putting weight on that leg again.

I think life works the same way.

We all have crutches.

Some are obvious. Others are so woven into our daily lives that we don’t even realize we’re leaning on them anymore. They often start as something we truly need. They help us survive a difficult time, protect us after we’ve been hurt, or simply help us make it through another day. But what was once temporary can slowly become permanent if we’re not careful.

That’s when a crutch stops helping us heal and starts keeping us from growing.

I know this because I’ve had my own.

There were times after my divorce when fear was understandable. I was rebuilding my life, raising my children, trying to find work, and learning how to navigate a future that looked nothing like the one I had imagined. There were plenty of reasons to question whether I was capable of starting over.

Those feelings weren’t wrong.

But had I continued to let fear make every decision for me, I would have remained stuck in a chapter that God never intended to be my whole story.

The tricky thing about crutches is that they rarely look like excuses. More often, they sound perfectly reasonable.

We tell ourselves we’ll start the business when life settles down. We’ll work on our marriage after this busy season. We’ll finally get healthy when we have more time. We’ll become more involved at church when work isn’t so demanding. We’ll deal with our finances when we make a little more money.

Sometimes those reasons are legitimate. Life is hard, and there are seasons when simply getting through the day is enough.

But sometimes we have to ask ourselves a difficult question.

Is this obstacle still protecting me… or has it quietly become the reason I’m no longer growing?

That question has challenged me more than once because the truth is, familiar feels safe. Even when it keeps us stuck.

I see this happen every day in my work as a financial coach.

People often come to me convinced that money is the problem. They believe everything will finally fall into place once they earn a bigger paycheck, receive a promotion, or get out of debt. While those things can certainly make a difference, they’re often not the root of the problem.

I’ve watched people receive raises only to find themselves living paycheck to paycheck less than a year later. The income changed, but the habits didn’t. The emotional relationship with money didn’t. The beliefs they carried about themselves didn’t.

The crutch wasn’t their income.

It was believing that more income would solve a problem that actually required personal growth.

Money has an incredible way of revealing what’s happening beneath the surface.

Someone tells themselves they can’t save because they don’t make enough money. That may be true, but sometimes it’s easier to believe that than to examine the spending habits that drain their paycheck.

Someone else says they’ll start budgeting next month. Then next month becomes next year.

Others tell themselves they’ll invest someday, pay off debt someday, ask for the promotion someday, or finally chase the dream they’ve carried for years.

“Someday” can become one of the strongest crutches we ever lean on because it gives us permission to delay becoming the person we know we’re capable of being.

The truth is, our financial habits usually aren’t just about dollars and cents. They’re often connected to fear, confidence, identity, and past experiences.

If we soothe stress by shopping, more money usually means more shopping.

If we struggle to set healthy boundaries, we often find ourselves spending money trying to keep everyone else happy.

If we believe we’re “just bad with money,” we’ll unconsciously make decisions that reinforce that belief over and over again.

Our bank accounts don’t create those patterns.

They simply reveal them.

The same thing happens in every other area of our lives.

We stay in jobs that drain us because the unknown feels scarier than the familiar. We avoid difficult conversations because silence feels easier than conflict. We postpone taking care of our health because life is busy. We convince ourselves we’ll spend more time with God after things calm down, even though life rarely slows down on its own.

Our crutches may all look different, but they usually have one thing in common.

They keep us from taking the next step.

Please don’t misunderstand me. Some people are carrying incredibly heavy burdens. Grief, illness, divorce, job loss, caregiving, and unexpected hardships are real. This isn’t about pretending those struggles don’t exist or suggesting we should just “try harder.”

It’s about honestly asking whether the thing we’re leaning on today is still helping us heal or whether it’s quietly become the reason we’ve stopped moving forward.

One of the things I love most about Scripture is that God rarely gave people the entire plan before asking them to move. Noah built before the rain came. Abraham left home before he knew where he was going. Peter stepped out of the boat before he experienced the miracle.

Faith has never required certainty.

It has always required a willingness to take the next step.

Maybe your crutch is fear. Maybe it’s perfectionism. Maybe it’s believing you’ve missed your opportunity. Maybe it’s the story you’ve been telling yourself for years about why your finances will never change, your marriage will never improve, or your dreams are simply too far out of reach.

Whatever it is, I want to encourage you to ask yourself one simple question:

What would my life look like if I stopped leaning on this?

You don’t have to have everything figured out. And you don’t have to sprint toward the finish line.

You just have to be willing to take the next faithful step.

That might look like creating your first budget instead of avoiding your bank statements. It might mean applying for the job you’ve convinced yourself you’re not qualified for. It might mean having the difficult conversation you’ve been putting off, asking for help, going back to school, starting counseling, or simply believing that your past doesn’t have to define your future.

Small, faithful steps have a way of changing the direction of an entire life.

After all, the goal was never to spend our lives walking on crutches.

The goal was always to heal, grow stronger, and discover that with God’s help, we’re capable of standing, walking, and eventually helping someone else who’s still learning to take those first uncertain steps.

Why Doing Nothing Might Be One of the Smartest Financial Decisions You Make

/ Yvonne / Leave a comment

This past week, I had the opportunity to attend our church ladies’ retreat, and I came home with something I didn’t expect.

It wasn’t a notebook full of profound revelations or a perfectly organized list of goals.

It was peace.

Each morning, before the day really began, several of us would gather on the deck overlooking the lake. Coffee cups and tea mugs in hand, wrapped in blankets against the cool morning air, we sat together watching the water. We shared our morning devotionals, laughed, prayed, and simply enjoyed being present.

There wasn’t a schedule to rush through.

There wasn’t a phone constantly demanding attention.

There wasn’t a to-do list waiting for me.

There was just stillness.

It reminded me how rarely we allow ourselves to simply be.

Our culture celebrates busyness. We wear exhaustion like a badge of honor. We convince ourselves that if we’re not constantly producing, checking things off our lists, or chasing the next goal, we’re somehow falling behind.

But I don’t think God designed us that way.

In fact, throughout Scripture, we see rhythms of work and rest. Even God rested after creation. But God wasn’t tired. He was letting us know that rest has purpose. Jesus often stepped away from the crowds to spend quiet time with His Father before returning to serve others.

Somewhere along the way, many of us forgot that rest isn’t laziness. It’s preparation.

And believe it or not, this has everything to do with our finances.

When we’re mentally exhausted, emotionally drained, or running from one obligation to the next, we don’t usually make our best financial decisions.

We grab takeout because we’re too tired to cook.

We impulse shop because we’re emotionally depleted.

We ignore our budget because we simply don’t have the mental energy to deal with it.

We avoid opening bills because we’re overwhelmed and convince ourselves we’ll “figure it out later,” and it’s usually because we’re running on empty.

One of the biggest misconceptions about financial success is that it’s all about discipline. While discipline certainly matters, what often matters more is having enough mental and emotional margin to make good decisions in the first place.

When your brain never gets a chance to slow down, everything begins to feel urgent. And when everything feels urgent, it’s difficult to think clearly about anything, including your money.

That’s why downtime isn’t wasted time. It’s an investment.

When we pause, our minds become clearer. We notice things we’ve been missing. We stop reacting and start responding with intention.

Those quiet mornings on the deck overlooking the lake reminded me that clarity rarely arrives when life is loud.

It comes in the quiet.

As we shared breakfast together afterward, lingering over delicious meals and unhurried conversations, I realized how refreshing it felt not to constantly think about what was next. There was no pressure to perform. No competition. Just genuine connection.

I think our finances benefit from that same mindset.

Imagine sitting down to look at your bank account, not from a place of panic or guilt, but from a place of peace.

Imagine making spending decisions that align with your values instead of appeasing your emotions.

Imagine having enough margin to ask yourself, “Is this really the best next step?”

Those kinds of decisions don’t usually happen when we’re overwhelmed. They happen when we’ve taken time to breathe.

The truth is, downtime doesn’t cost us productivity. It often creates it.

And it doesn’t make us financially irresponsible. It helps us become financially intentional.

Sometimes the most productive thing you can do for your finances isn’t creating another spreadsheet or listening to another budgeting podcast.

Sometimes it’s taking a walk.

Reading your Bible on the porch.

Sitting beside a lake.

Having an unhurried conversation with friends.

Drinking your coffee while the world wakes up around you.

Because when your soul is rested, your mind becomes clearer.

And when your mind is clearer, your financial decisions often become wiser.

I’m incredibly thankful to the ladies who organized this retreat and to our church family for making times like this possible. It was a beautiful reminder that God often speaks the loudest when we finally become quiet enough to listen.

Maybe you’ve been telling yourself you don’t have time to rest.

I’d gently challenge that thought.

Maybe you don’t have time not to.

Your mind, your heart, your relationships, and yes, even your finances, will thank you for it.

The Most Important Financial Question Has Nothing To Do With Money

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The Most Important Financial Question Has Nothing to Do With Money

For most of our lives, we are taught to ask the same question about money: How much do I need?

How much do I need to retire comfortably? How much do I need to earn to feel successful? How much do I need in my savings account before I can finally relax?

There is nothing wrong with those questions. Money matters. It provides security, gives us choices, helps us handle life’s unexpected moments, and can create opportunities that might not otherwise exist.

But after working with people during some of the biggest transitions of their lives, I have discovered that there is a much deeper question that often gets overlooked:

What kind of life am I trying to build?

Because if money becomes the only goal, the finish line will always continue moving. There will always be a larger paycheck to chase, a bigger house to buy, another investment goal to reach, or another level of success to achieve. The danger is that we can spend so much time building a life that looks successful on paper that we forget to ask whether it actually feels fulfilling.

I have met people with impressive incomes who are exhausted, overwhelmed, disconnected from the people they love, and wondering where all their time has gone. I have also met people with far less money who have built lives full of meaningful relationships, peace, purpose, and gratitude.

Of course, this does not mean money is unimportant or that financial planning should be ignored. Financial stress is real, and having enough money to pay your bills, prepare for emergencies, and have choices in your future can dramatically improve your quality of life.

The healthiest relationship with money is not about having the most. It is about having enough to create the life that matters to you.

For one person, that may mean having the freedom to retire early and travel the world. For another, it may mean being able to work fewer hours so they can attend their children’s games, take care of aging parents, or simply enjoy a slower morning with a cup of coffee and a quiet start to the day.

When we define our life first, our financial decisions become much clearer. Money stops being the thing we constantly chase and becomes a tool we use to support our values, our priorities, and the experiences that make our lives meaningful.

At the end of our lives, very few of us will wish we had spent more time at the office earning a little more money or accumulating more possessions. We will remember the conversations around the dinner table, the people who stood beside us during difficult seasons, the moments of laughter, the experiences we shared, and the memories we created.

Money can open doors. It can solve practical problems. It can provide comfort and opportunity. But the most meaningful parts of our lives have never carried a price tag.

Perhaps the greatest financial lesson we can learn is that success is not measured by having everything. It is measured by creating a life that feels rich in the ways that matter most.

Hope in a Hard Economy

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The headlines lately can make it feel like the financial world is one giant dumpster fire with a stock ticker attached to it.
Prices are high. Insurance is painful. Groceries somehow cost the same as a small vacation did ten years ago. One trip to the store for “just a few things” now requires a moment of silence in the parking lot before you drive home.

And yet… beneath all the noise and fear and endless doom-scrolling, there is still good news.

You may have to dig a little harder to find it these days, but it’s there.

People are becoming smarter with money. Less flashy. Not as performative. Wiser.

For years, so many people were taught that success looked like bigger houses, newer cars, maxed-out lifestyles, and pretending everything was fine while quietly panicking at 2 a.m. over credit card balances.

Now people are asking different questions.

“How do I create peace?”
“How do I sleep better?”
“How do I stop living one emergency away from disaster?”
“How do I build a life that actually feels stable?”

That change matters more than people realize.

There’s good news in the fact that people are finally talking honestly about money. The shame around financial struggle is starting to crack open. More people are admitting they’re stressed. More families are having real conversations. More adults are learning things they should have been taught years ago about budgeting, debt, savings, boundaries, and financial survival.

And that honesty may be one of the healthiest financial changes we’ve seen in a long time.

I think part of what we are seeing is people being pulled back toward what actually matters. Scripture reminds us in Matthew 6:21, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” A lot of people are realizing they do not want their entire peace, identity, or emotional stability tied to stuff, debt, appearances, or trying to keep up with everyone else.

There’s also good news in resilience.

I watch people every day who are rebuilding after divorce, layoffs, caregiving responsibilities, inflation, medical bills, and life throwing absolute chaos at them. And somehow, they still keep going.

There’s good news in people picking up side jobs instead of giving up. In families learning to work together instead of silently drowning. In women starting over financially in their 40s and 50s and discovering they are far more capable than they ever believed. In people deciding that peace is more important than appearances.

There’s good news in the fact that many people are finally building emergency savings for the first time. Even if it starts with twenty dollars. Even if it grows slowly. Stability is still stability.

And while the economy still has challenges, not everything is collapsing the way social media sometimes makes it sound. People are still finding jobs. Businesses are still opening. People are still paying off debt. People are still buying homes. People are still reinventing themselves every single day.

Human beings are incredibly adaptive.

We learn.
We adjust.
We survive hard seasons.
We rebuild.

And honestly, faith has a way of helping people survive hard times they never thought they would make it through. Isaiah 41:10 says, “Fear not, for I am with you… I will strengthen you, yes, I will help you.” Sometimes people do not need another lecture about money. Sometimes they need hope strong enough to help them take the next step forward.

Sometimes financial healing does not look dramatic. Sometimes it looks like finally opening the bills instead of avoiding them. Sometimes it looks like cooking at home more often. Sometimes it looks like saying no to things you used to say yes to. Sometimes it looks like asking for help. Sometimes it looks like choosing peace over pride.

I also think there’s something beautiful happening right now where many people are realizing that their worth has absolutely nothing to do with their bank account balance.

Money stress can make people feel ashamed, stuck, or defeated. But struggling financially does not mean you are failing at life. Sometimes it simply means you are living through an expensive, difficult chapter in a very complicated world. And chapters change.

And maybe that is where faith matters most. God never promised people a life without storms, but He did promise they would not walk through them alone.

That’s the good news.

This season is not forever.
This pressure is not forever.
This rebuilding is not forever.

Galatians 6:9 says, “Let us not grow weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” Sometimes rebuilding takes longer than we hoped. Sometimes healing takes patience. But small faithful steps still matter.

And while we should absolutely be honest about the hard realities people are facing, we also need reminders that hope still exists too.

There are still good people.
Still second chances.
Still opportunities.
Still open doors.
Still ways forward.

Sometimes the good news is not that life suddenly became easy.

Sometimes the good news is simply this:

That even in difficult times, people are learning they are stronger, wiser, and more resilient than they ever knew before.

The Sandwich Generation: Holding It All Together While Finding Yourself Again

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There comes a moment in life when many Gen X adults look around and realize they’ve somehow become the center beam holding the whole house up.

They might be raising children who still need guidance, rides, tuition, and groceries that disappear faster than anyone can explain. At the same time, their parents are aging and beginning to need help with doctor visits, medications, and decisions that once seemed far away.

Right in the middle of it all sits Gen X.

Working hard. Trying to save for retirement. Trying to support the people they love. Trying to make sense of a life that suddenly feels like it’s moving in three directions at once.

It’s called the sandwich generation for a reason. Life presses in from both sides.

And some days, it feels like you’re the filling.

This stage of life carries a financial weight that few people have prepared for. Many Gen X adults expect to help their kids launch into adulthood. That felt like a natural part of parenting. What many didn’t expect was managing that responsibility while also stepping into a caregiving role for their parents.

The financial math can start to feel overwhelming. College tuition, medical costs, insurance, retirement accounts, and rising everyday expenses. Many households find themselves doing constant mental calculations just to keep things balanced.

Yet the pressure is not only financial.

There is also a quiet shift happening internally.

For years, life followed a fairly predictable rhythm. You built a career. You raised your children. You worked toward stability. The identity of “parent” and “provider” was clear and steady.

Then something begins to change.

Your kids slowly start needing you less in some ways and more in others. Your parents may begin relying on you for support in ways that feel unfamiliar. Retirement, which once felt like a distant concept, starts showing up in conversations and financial statements.

At some point, many Gen X adults start to think, Who am I now?

It’s not a crisis. It’s a transition.

Transitions can feel uncomfortable because they pull us out of routines we’ve known for decades. Yet they also create space for reflection. This season asks deeper questions about priorities, purpose, and what the next chapter might look like.

That reflection often happens while standing in the grocery store, wondering why the total seems twice as high as it used to be.

Humor becomes a survival tool in times like this.

Gen X has always been good at that. This is the generation that grew up as latchkey kids, Saturday morning cartoons, and learning to solve problems without a step-by-step guide. Resilience was built early, even if no one called it that at the time.

That resilience still shows up today.

Many people in this generation are quietly managing complicated financial situations while still showing up for work, family, and responsibilities every single day. They are adjusting budgets, helping family members, and doing their best to prepare for a future that still carries some unknowns.

There is strength in that effort, even when it feels exhausting.

There is also something else that becomes clearer with age: the realization that we were never meant to carry every burden alone.

Faith has a way of bringing perspective into seasons that feel heavy. In Matthew 11:28, Jesus offers a simple invitation: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

That verse resonates differently in midlife than it did years ago. Life has a way of teaching us just how heavy responsibility can become. Faith does not remove those responsibilities, but it reminds us that strength does not have to come from us alone.

Sometimes the most powerful step forward is a combination of wise financial choices and trust that God is present in the middle of the uncertainty.

And there is uncertainty in this stage of life. Many people feel like they are making it up as they go.

In truth, most of us are.

The sandwich generation often operates without a clear roadmap. Every family situation is unique. Every financial picture looks a little different. What works for one household may not work for another.

So people do what they have always done.

They take the next step.

They adjust when life shifts. They learn as they go. They keep moving forward.

Along the way, something unexpected often happens. While Gen X spends so much time caring for others, they slowly begin rediscovering themselves as well. This time in life invites people to rethink priorities, explore new interests, and imagine what the next chapter of life might hold.

It is a season of responsibility, but it is also a season of wisdom.

And wisdom has a way of growing quietly through lived experience.

If you are part of the sandwich generation, give yourself a moment of grace. The balancing act you are managing is real. The pressure you feel is shared by many others walking through the same stage of life.

You are supporting families, building stability, and making decisions that shape the future for more than one generation.

That matters.

And while it may feel like you are still figuring things out day by day, something is reassuring about that truth.

Most of life is learned exactly that way.

One day at a time.

When the Plan Falls Apart and Grace Steps In

/ Yvonne / Leave a comment

I’m someone who likes a plan.

I like a calendar that makes sense, a schedule that runs smoothly, and a to-do list that gets checked off in satisfying little boxes. My weeks usually have a rhythm. Work, coaching calls, podcast planning, errands, and home life. Nothing too strict, but predictable.

Last Wednesday night reminded me how quickly life can tear up even the best plan.

I woke my dog Nordy up to go potty before bed, and he couldn’t walk.

Two hours prior, everything was normal. Now suddenly, his back legs were completely paralyzed.

If you’ve ever had a pet you love, you know the feeling. Your stomach drops. Your brain starts racing. You’re trying to stay calm while fear and worry are running circles in your head.

This happened at 10:30 that night, so I called my vet’s emergency line. Thank the Lord he takes emergency calls, because I had no idea what else to do. He met me at his office, checked Nordy over, and started him on steroids, pain medication, and a muscle relaxer.

By morning, everything about my week had changed.

Appointments had to be rearranged. Work slowed down. My sleep disappeared. Vet visits started piling up. Treatments had to be discussed. Tests had to be considered. Every decision felt urgent and expensive.

And vet bills… they add up fast…including emergency costs, which aren’t cheap.

There were things I hadn’t even thought about before. Nordy can’t be left unattended right now. That means I can’t leave the house without him. It means things like mowing the yard now require hiring someone because I can’t be outside long enough to take care of it myself while watching him.

All the normal pieces of life have suddenly changed.

The schedule I had carefully mapped out? Gone.

My work plans for that week? Delayed.

Even basic things like sleeping through the night disappeared because when your dog is hurting and can’t move properly, you wake up constantly to check on them.

So I did what a lot of people do when they’re scared and exhausted.

I started researching.

Late at night. Early in the morning. Anytime I couldn’t sleep.

One thing kept coming up during my searches: acupuncture for dogs with spinal injuries or paralysis. It doesn’t work in every case, but sometimes it helps stimulate nerve response and recovery.

That little word “sometimes” was enough for me.

So, I started looking for veterinarians who practiced acupuncture.

The closest one I could find was about two hours away from where I live.

On Saturday, I sent them a message. They were already closed, but I figured I’d hear back sometime this week. Maybe I could get an appointment eventually.

Instead, they texted me and scheduled Nordy for the following Thursday.

It wasn’t ideal with the distance, but at least it was something. A direction. A possibility.

When the vet replied to confirm, he asked what time of day I preferred.

I told him the afternoon would work better since I live two hours away.

Then he asked where I lived.

I told him. Then the replies stopped.

About thirty minutes later, my phone rang. It was the person I had been texting with.

He said something that honestly stopped me in my tracks.

His daughter is the veterinarian. He was just taking calls. Then he said he had a proposition for me.

I had no idea what to think, but said, “ok?”.

He said she happened to be in my town that weekend for a horse show. If I could come to where she was, she would see Nordy that evening. He let me know it wouldn’t be done in a vet’s office. Treatment would be done right there in the horse stable. I had no problem with that!

I was thrilled and grateful!

Two hours away suddenly turned into right here.

No waiting days for the first appointment.

No long drive with a paralyzed dog in the car.

Just an unexpected door opening exactly when I needed it.

I sat there for a moment after that call, thinking about how strange life can be.

We make plans.

We plan our weeks. Our work. Our schedules. Our finances. Our routines.

Then something happens that we never could have predicted.

A phone call.

A diagnosis.

A sick pet.

A sudden expense.

A change that throws everything off track.

And yet sometimes, right in the middle of that chaos, something else shows up.

Grace.

I believe God was working that day.

Out of all the weekends, that vet’s daughter was in my town. Out of all the times to reach out, I happened to leave a message when I did. Out of all the ways that situation could have unfolded, the door opened in the exact place I already was.

Now Nordy has regular acupuncture appointments scheduled.

We don’t know yet how much recovery he’ll have. We’re hopeful. We’re taking it one step at a time.

My schedule is still upside down.

Work has been interrupted. Plans have been moved. Expenses have grown for the next few months in ways I didn’t expect.

Life feels a little chaotic right now.

But sometimes the best reminder of faith comes when the plan falls apart.

Because when everything is going smoothly, it’s easy to believe we’re the ones holding it all together.

Moments like this remind me that we’re not.

Right now, my focus is simple.

Take care of Nordy.
Trust the process.

Continue to help my clients.
Keep the faith.

And accept that sometimes the most meaningful stories start the moment the plan goes completely off script.

For those who are curious, yes, I am still seeing clients, just on a slightly different schedule right now. Sessions will be scheduled around Nordy’s treatment. If you don’t see a time on my schedule that works for you, reach out, and we’ll find a time that does work. I have also added a few Saturday time slots to accommodate.

For now, Nordy sits next to me in his stroller, where I can keep an eye on him while I work. He is truly my very loyal (and very spoiled) office assistant.

And yes, I’m still taking on new clients. So, if you’re going through a financial transition, feeling overwhelmed by money decisions, or just need someone to help you sort through the numbers and the stress that comes with them, please reach out.

Life may throw the schedule off sometimes.

But the work of helping people move forward with their lives and their finances keeps me going and will continue.