Being The Church

Let me start by saying this to clarify when I’m making reference: The church (little c) is a place. It’s a building. The Church (big C) is made up of believers in Jesus. The Church is people; Christians.

We, Christians, are The Church. How we treat people is important.

Now, I’m trying not to rant, but I just might a little. I’ve waited a week before coming to write. I’m recognizing that I’ve been extra tired, there have been extenuating circumstances, and my feelings are very raw. I might also add that being extra vulnerable isn’t my position of preference. I’m not even sure at this point if I’ll click “publish” on this when I’m finished.

I made a post on Facebook about my grandson, as most of our friends and family knew at least something of the circumstances, I didn’t go into great details, but I did vaguely mention the event we “attended” and left. I’d like to let it go, but I can’t just yet. In the moment I wanted to grab a torch and a pitchfork. Hurt people hurt people, and I was hurt, and Grandma Bear wanted to roll some heads. I also really, really wanted to cry.

I’ll share the Facebook post and the pictures that go along with it now…

“This boy. He recently had his entire world upended. His little brother was very, very sick, so his momma and daddy were at the hospital with him for several days. I want you to look at these pictures all the way through. I’m going to tell you a little story….

At three years old it’s not easy to understand why we can’t just go where Mommy and Daddy and Bubby are. Why can’t we go to the “hotel” with them? He can understand overnights in a hotel, but not the hospital. But he was very good at handling it most of the time. The evening these pictures were taken, he had been asleep on the sofa for a good, long nap, so I woke him up to get ready. He was crying the whole time, but I knew he’d be ok once he got good and awake. There was something important I thought we needed to attend. Well, I thought it was important. He cried for his mommy from the time I woke him up. I told him we needed to go to this place. He just wanted to go “do something fun”. The place we went turned out to be hurtful rather than helpful, and we left. I pulled over into a parking lot. He video called his momma and felt better. He and I both were at the end of our ropes and exhausted. He handed me the phone from the backseat. As he did, he “accidentally” dialed my bestie. I put the word accidentally in quotes, because it wasn’t an accident. [I don’t believe in coincidences, and neither does my bestie.] I needed to talk to my bestie in that moment. I had just been kicked while I was down. I told Gray he could get out of his car seat, and we would go inside in a few minutes and grab a bite to eat. While my friend talked me off the edge, this baby lifted my spirit as he stood on the console with hands in the air through the open sunroof saying, “THIS is FUN!” And it was….”

So that’s the post. Have you figured out yet where we went? We went to the church (little c). More specifically, a “healing service” at this church.

Sigh….how much do I want to elaborate?

My daughter had attended and learned of this upcoming healing service. My mother had just been diagnosed with cancer when my daughter heard of this upcoming service. She said we should take MawMaw and all go. Little did we know that the day before the service my daughter’s son was going to be taken by ambulance to Children’s Hospital two hours away to the PICU and spend the week there with pneumonia. She said to me…from the PICU, after an ambulance ride and being up all night, “You’ve got to go to that healing service.” So I walked exhausted and broken into a healing service with my newly diagnosed mother, my other daughter who has RA, and a crying three year old. We were a broken, hurting bunch, and it was just about 3-4 minutes before time to start. Gray was crying for his mommy. I was trying to act like I didn’t notice the side-eye looks. He didn’t want to be held, touched, or trifled with. He sat at the end of the row, and I gave him some space. I was waiting for the music to start expecting that to be the change he needed, when a man appeared at the end of the row, crouching down, and asking Grayson if he wants to go play with some toys. I get it, letting me know child care is available…but he continues on telling him he’s going to have to be quiet when the service starts. Reminder: He’s crying, “Mommy….Mommy” and had now come down to me because a stranger was in his face…., so since we were at a healing service, I took this opportunity to tell this man in the suit that this crying child’s mommy is in the hospital with baby brother. (My heart is pounding with the recalling of the moment.) He completely ignored what I just said to him and began to walk away saying, “Well, he needs to get quiet when the service starts.” At that time I spoke aloud the words, “Get behind me, Satan.” I was determined at that moment to dig in, because I knew the enemy was using that man as his tool.

The music began. I noticed a woman two rows in front of me, no one was between us, she immediately extended her arms and turned her face toward heaven and began singing along. I’m not sure how she, in the next moment, almost immediately….I mean, she had been right there in front of me….but now she was crouching by Grayson, who had moved back to the end of the row. I had moved that direction near him. I must have been talking to him when she made her move. She asked if I wanted her to take him out. I told her he’ll be fine, and there’s no way he’d allow her to touch him. She said again that she would just take him out. Now, maybe she was just trying to be helpful. Maybe I was already salty over that man, but whatever. I was friendly to her and told her no thank you…again. At this point, it was time to go. It just hit me…forget digging in. I was outta there! Apparently, this service wasn’t for actual hurting people. Not if they disrupt the service. I gently took that baby by the hand and whispered, “Let’s go.” We walked out into the lobby where he was ready to let Grandma hold him and carry him out.

My mom and daughter had driven together, so Grayson and I left. I hoped they could salvage something from the message. You see, I’ve been to this church…many times. The man in the suit knows who I am, even though he always acts like he doesn’t. So, you see, there are multiple layers to this thing. Also, I really love hearing the pastor at this church speak. So I bowed out gracefully sans the torch and pitchfork. I even managed to hold back the tears.

I’ve attended this church many, many times, but we hadn’t become members or gotten involved in small groups or anything like that. My husband works on Sundays and when other services are available, and we were essentially church homeless. If someone asked me where I go, I’d tell them I like attending this particular church…but I knew in my heart I was unsettled.

Let’s back up to the previous Sunday…My older son had been invited to hear a young man, who is an associate pastor he knows from the gym, preach the sermon at a church I wasn’t familiar with. That week my husband happened to have Sunday off work, so we all attended together. (Remember what I said before about coincidences?) I sat there the whole time thinking about how I could really go to this church. I wanted to jump in right away. But then doubt crept in…if my girls and their families were going to be going to that one church, maybe we should all just commit and go there.

Cue the healing service.

As I was driving away, more broken than I had been when I walked into the healing service, I thought of that church we had attended the week before. (We hadn’t been able to go that morning, because we had been up all night at the hospital with the sick baby grandson and the three year old.) The car clock said 6:17, and I wondered if that little church had a Sunday night 7:00pm service. I could literally picture myself walking in there with the crying three year old and my own tears streaming down my face. This was the part from the Facebook post when I pulled into that parking lot. I looked up that little church’s service times. Nope. No 7:00pm service. But that’s when we video called Grayson’s mommy and then he handed me the phone that was already dialing my bestie who answered just as I realized the phone was making a call. That’s when we got calmed down, and when I realized a few things.

1) The Church can hurt people really, really badly. I’ve been a Christian for a long time. I’ve been around enough to know that none of us are perfect and neither are our churches….little c. But even as a seasoned Christian and someone old enough to be a grandma, I can still be hurt, but I know Christ is where I place my trust.

2) What if I’d been a new, baby Christian and not the Christian from number 1 above? What kind of impression of the church and The Church would that leave with a young, hurting momma with a crying toddler? My heart breaks to think of it. Would she ever step foot into another church and take a chance on being hurt again? Maybe. Maybe not.

3) When my heart was hurting, I wanted to be with God’s people. I was ready to be vulnerable with those people in that little church with no 7pm service.

4) I am a child of God, and no matter how old I become on this Earth, I’ll always be a child….His child. My Father knows this. He knows I’m hard headed and sometimes a bit unruly and rebellious. That’s why sometimes He uses the extreme circumstances of the storms of this life to get my attention. Sometimes that’s what it takes. When I realize I’m caught up in the storm, trying to do things on my own, that’s when I’ll get still and listen for His still, small voice. He is always there.

1 Kings 19: 11-14 says…

Then He said, “Go out, and stand on the mountain before the Lord.” And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice. So it was, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood in the entrance of the cave. Suddenly a voice came to him, and said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”

Hebrews 10: 23-25 says this …

Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful. And let us consider one another in order to stir up love and good works, not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as is the manner of some, but exhorting one another, and so much the more as you see the Day approaching.

I’ve got nothing against the church or The Church. Not one one of us is perfect. But to the world and even to new Christians, we are expected to be different and to look different from the world around us. I’m not proud of myself for allowing myself to be so hurt and disappointed. I had an idea of what this healing service might be, and it wasn’t that. I certainly didn’t expect to walk out feeling like I’d been kicked while I was down. I had allowed myself to be vulnerable, and it hurt. I think I’m learning a lesson right now as I type this….I can’t NOT allow myself to be vulnerable because of past hurts. The pain I experience is something that can one day be used to help another. I’ll just file that away until I need it.


The Year of Nate

Are you a fan of the TV sitcom “The Middle”? We’re huge fans in our family. If you’ve never seen it, just know that my family can relate way too much to the Heck family living in Indiana, working their tails off, raising a family, paying the bills, eating too much fast food, and all the dysfunction and shenanigans that go along with those things. The daughter, Sue, is the most optimistic teenager who ever existed. She always looks on the bright side and knows things will always get better and declares the new year “The Year of Sue.” It’s all very funny, I promise. And they all love each other very much, and I cry at the end of every episode.

Anyway, the first time I watched the show it was already a couple of episodes into the first season. A friend told me I just had to watch it, because these characters are just like us. Well, first of all, I gathered they’re the Heck family. Hello, Heck/Eck…ert. Then the mom called the dad Mike. Excuse me? Mike Heck/Mike Eck…ert? If that mom’s name was Amy, I was gonna FALL OUT! Nope, it’s Frankie, but she and I could eat some nightstand cookies and have a good conversation about the state of the world…or where we lost our car…or the time we left the snack bag behind again…or whatever. But anyway, such good memories of the family watching the show together through to the final episode.

“It won’t cut you you.”~Nurse Brittany

So, back to The Year of Nate. Mike Heck, er, um…Mike Eckert and I keep referring to this year as The Year of Nate. It’s a long process for the flat feet. The poor guy is such a trooper. He has now been through the first surgery, ten days of the half cast, hard cast #1 (blue) for two weeks, hard cast #2 (orange) for two weeks, and now he’s finally in the walking boot for two weeks. After that, it will be four weeks in a sneaker. Next step is to start all over with the other foot.

Just hanging out at the library

When this whole thing started I wanted to get him a knee scooter. He insisted he wouldn’t use it, so I didn’t spend the money. I’m no dummy. I know when a hard headed thirteen year old says they won’t use something, they won’t. Take their word and keep your money. Then it rained incessantly. That makes it difficult to go anywhere on crutches. The last thing we needed was a fall. Once it quit raining a bit, we began to venture out. That’s when he realized just how sore you can get on crutches and that maybe that knee scooter wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Late on a Sunday night we ordered one from Amazon and had it Tuesday morning. He was so excited and put it together himself. Rock and Roll!!

It feels funny! Can’t wait for a BATH!
The new digs

I misunderstood the gravity of the time frame of this thing. I thought it was a three month ordeal. I had wondered how you go from not using one foot to that foot becoming the primary, weight bearing foot so quickly. Well, it’s not that quickly after all. (It truly IS The Year of Nate.) That’s where you insert the four weeks in a sneaker …oh, and TWO weeks in the boot instead of the one week I was thinking. In true Frankie Heck fashion, I can think only so far in advance with all of this life stuff and #FullTiltBoogie swirling around me at all times. One day at a time, sweet Jesus. Or at least one step at a time. At this point I know the next step is to go back and see Dr. Brazis again after two weeks in the boot. Whew! Well, the best news is he hasn’t had any pain since the first few days. He has had some pains on Day 2 of the boot as he’s adjusting to putting weight on that foot again for the first time in nearly six weeks. For the most part though, he said it feels good to walk on it and he can feel his Achilles tendon stretching. Goals, my friends. That is what we want and need. We’re setting and crushing goals. That’s how the Eckerts roll.

Joy…Like a Child

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. James 1:2-4 NIV

Consider it pure joy? Really? I just want to be like a rebellious child and shout, “No!” I obviously have some maturing to do.

I don’t like trials. Who does? I don’t like trials, pain, and hurt for myself or for anyone I love. But James speaks to the facts of living in a fallen world.

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” – Jesus (John 16:33)

Three of my kiddos from nine years ago–Joy!

There’s nothing more beautiful in this world than the pure joy that children experience. As time goes on and more of this world is experienced, the easier it is to lose that sense of pure joy. There’s a difference between joy and happiness, but that’s a whole other conversation for another day. I knew this morning that I was supposed to focus on joy and write about joy when my friend sent me a picture of her devotion this morning. I sent a picture of mine back to her.



Joy was the word and then I saw a vision and heard the words “like a child”. The vision is one I used to have often when praying. I had forgotten. I could have fallen down. I literally had to hang on to stay on my feet. It’s a vision that I also feel. It’s me on my Father’s lap being held and rocked as a child. It’s me, full grown me, but it’s the image of a Father and child. No matter what trials we face in this world, we have a heavenly father who loves us and wants to comfort us. We just have to climb into his lap and LET him.

Sometimes the trial isn’t our own, but someone we love. It’s not my first-hand trial, and it’s not my story to tell, and I’m certainly not happy about it. Even though I want to shout, “NO,” I will keep reminding myself that the Joy of the Lord is my strength.

Enjoy some pure grandchild joy…

This almost feels like it should be separate blog, but the image at the beginning with the flower and the word “perseverance” has its own story. Again, the whole thing is not mine to tell, but I was given that image and message for a couple of women who were experiencing their father’s illness and decline. I felt led to make that and send it to them telling them I don’t know if that word has any particular significance, but I felt led to send it. It’s a word that kept whispering in my spirit. It was for them, but now I realize it’s also for me.

I knew when I sat down to write this morning, that I had to use the verse about considering it all joy, but I was unsure of the reference and wanted to get it right. When I looked it up, it was the NKJV that first came up. I switched it over to the NIV (which is the translation I grew up with), and there it was: perseverance.

Two words: Joy & Perseverance

I hear you, Lord.

Facebook Woes

It has been an interesting evening. I’ve just spent a couple of hours transferring Facebook posts to my blog. Allow me to explain by sharing the post I just made on Facebook….

I’m a talker. I’ve always been a talker. I’m one of those kids who always got in trouble for talking in school. I can talk to complete strangers at the grocery store or on an airplane. I’m that person.

I’m a reader. I love to read. I love to let my mind soar to far away places. I love to let my imagination bloom in new ways. I love learning. I love the written word. I can literally read the dictionary and enjoy it.

Then there’s writing; this is where thoughts and the written word converge. I would love to be a writer. I think my brain goes faster than my hand, and when I try to write my thoughts tend to get jumbled. I don’t feel worthy.

Now let’s factor in social media, shall we? Sometimes when I begin to make a Facebook post, what was meant to be short and sweet becomes quite lengthy. This post is probably a prime example. While sitting at Nate’s weekly class at the library, I began to make quite a few rather long posts from my heart and sharing what was on my mind. I began to label them with #LibraryThoughts to be able to keep track of them. They seemed to touch a lot of people. Many private messaged me thanking me for what I’d written and saying it was exactly what they needed in that moment. There were several suggestions that I should start a blog. One day, I suspect through IG, I accidentally made a “personality page” on FB. I decided I could make that the place where I begin writing my Library Thoughts. Then this spring at the Regional Real Estate Conference, we had a speaker who said that we should be blogging. I spoke to her between sessions. I told her about my musings and my page, but that I don’t have an actual blog. She said to me, and I quote, “Then Facebook owns everything you’ve written. You need a blog.” It took me a few weeks, but I finally just did it. I set it up and shared a couple of my Library Thoughts just to test it out, see the layout, and get the feel for how the tools work. When you set it up, you can make the settings so it automatically posts to your social media sites when you publish. Well, I linked my blog to that FB personality page. Then Nate had his first foot surgery. I decided that I would chronicle his progress through my blog. Perfect timing! That is what I’ve been doing every couple of weeks since the beginning of June. I’ve written a couple of other blog posts in between. It’s been a blessing to me to chat with people about their kids’ experiences or saying their child has flat feet, but they didn’t know it was possible to do anything about it and thanking me for sharing. Well, I didn’t know until just recently that anything could be done to help, so I figured I probably wasn’t the only one.

So…I’m over here minding my own business today when I realized my blog post from late last night was flagged saying it can’t be seen by others and giving me the option to mark as spam or delete it. When I clicked in response “not spam” it gave me a message that it would be reviewed against the Community Standards. It’s not just that particular blog entry, but every blog entry that has been shared to FB has been removed. I was angry. I was ranting about all the garbage on FB and how that crap can be allowed but my little ole blog is scrubbed? I’m wondering what on Earth has drawn attention to my milk-toast blog, and I began to wonder if it had to have been reported by someone to get me on the radar of the FB police. That’s an interesting thought, now, isn’t it? I’d like to think that’s not the case.

That brings me back around to the speaker at the conference. The one who told me FB owns my words. I had created the blog, chronicled Nate’s foot progress, dropped a couple of lines in there, but my words still lived in FB.

This evening I have taken the time to move MY words, MY Library Thoughts, to MY blog.

As I have done so, I’ve been thanking the possible person who possibly reported my post to the FB police; thanking them for lighting this fire within me. I’ve had a scripture in my mind. I’m no Joseph, the Lord isn’t using me to save a nation or many lives, but He has used my words to touch people’s hearts. Rather, I’ve allowed Him to inspire me to write words that have meant something to someone somewhere. The words in my mind and my heart — “what was meant to harm will be used for good.”

As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good in order to bring about this present result, to preserve many people alive. — Genesis 50:20 NASB

You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. — Genesis 50:20 NIV

But as for you, you meant evil against me; but God meant it for good, in order to bring it about as it is this day, to save many people alive. — Genesis 50:20 NKJV


*originally written April 25, 2019

Week 27, 3 days: Exasperation

It has been a crazy week. Far beyond just the regular ol’ #FullTiltBoogie. Like, “carry my CBD oil in my purse” kind of crazy. I had an image flash in my head today that sums up how it has felt; like I’m carrying an armload of water balloons and trying not to drop any of them. But along with that image came a message:
“Hold Fast”
The song by Mercy Me says, “hold fast, help is on the way.” Here are the lyrics and link to video

To everyone who’s hurting
To those who’ve had enough
To all the undeserving
That should cover all of us
Please do not let go
I promise there is hope

Hold fast
Help is on the way
Hold fast
He’s come to save the day
What I’ve learned in my life
One thing greater than my strife
Is His grasp
So hold fast

Will this season ever pass?
Can we stop this ride?
Will we see the sun at last?
Or could this be our lot in life?
Please do not let go
I promise you there’s hope

Hold fast
Help is on the way
Hold fast
He’s come to save the day
What I’ve learned in my life
One thing greater than my strife
Is Your grasp
So hold fast

You may think you’re all alone
And there’s no way that anyone could know
What you’re going through
But if you only hear one thing
Just understand…

Then the reminder of 2 Corinthians 4:8…
“We are pressed on all sides, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair;”

I thought maybe someone else out there might be feeling the same way. Feel free to share with anyone you think might need a reminder tonight. #holdfast

Doing What You Love/Or Not

*originally written June 10, 2019

Week 35: Doing What You Love/Or Not

Do you have a job? Do you get financial compensation for going to work when you’re scheduled to be there? Do you love your job or hate it? Maybe you’re indifferent about it, or maybe you’re passionate about what you do. Do you think your pay should be based on whether or not you care or feel passionate, or if you just clock in on time? I know it’s difficult to see someone getting paid the same as you but not working nearly as hard. I’ve been there. But what if you see someone absolutely loving what they do? They’re so very passionate and excited!! Does that excite you? Are you happy for them, or do you begrudge their happiness because you’re not that happy? Do you think that person should be making a paycheck or just volunteer and do it for free with no financial compensation?

I’m involved in an industry that allows me to feel passionate through personal experience about what I’m doing. I GET TO share with others about my positive experiences. I GET TO introduce others to the opportunity to do the same thing. My company compensates me for my one-on-one, word of mouth endorsement of their products and opportunity. They do this in place of paying for ads on television, print, or elsewhere. It only makes sense to have boots on the ground with first-hand experience telling people they know and love about what they have. It really comes down to trust. Do I use and trust the products? Yes. Have I had experience with the leadership of the company and their compensation plan? Yes. After that the most important question is; Do you trust me? This is where the rubber meets the road, folks. This is where my road can be the most fulfilling experience for me…or painful. I’ll admit that. When someone sees what I’m doing and trusts me enough to get involved, it’s like Strawberry Fields Forever and Cloud 9 collide in an orchestra of fireworks and rose petals!! But when someone accuses me of only wanting their money, it’s hurtful. That’s not my heart. Anyone who truly knows me, knows that.

Any product or service you receive, someone, somewhere is getting paid. You don’t go to the doctor and expect him/her to work for free. How about getting your hair cut? Should your stylist/barber work for free? The carpenter you hire to build your deck? The dog groomer? Police officer? Factory worker? Prison guard? Someone, somewhere, probably several someones along the line, has expenses related to that product or service. They have to pay for their supplies and overhead to perform that service or to provide a product. That person then has their own, personal bills and expenses related to living; food, clothing, shelter. So this brings me back to the original question:
Do you have a job, and are you financially compensated for showing up and performing your duties?

If I show up every day loving what I do, sharing about my experiences, offering myself as a leader, mentor, and friend to help someone else feel better and be successful by also helping others by promoting products and an opportunity with a company who is willing to financially compensate me for doing so, then is that greedy and seen as just trying to “take your money”? I think if someone sees it that way, then this obviously is not for them, and they don’t have the type of heart I want to work with anyway. I don’t begrudge anyone a paycheck for good, honest work. I would like to think no one thinks I should work for free just because I love what I do.

My Cup Overflows

*originally written Nov 26, 2018

Week six: This morning at the library, instead of sharing my #LibraryThoughts, I did the #FullTiltBoogie and met with another real estate agent and talked real estate. I absolutely love this gal and enjoyed our time together. As a wife, mother, grandmother, Realtor, network marketing entrepreneur, and homeschool mom, you make it work however and wherever you can and bonus points when you get to hang with people you enjoy.

It’s now six weeks since making a huge change in my business life. I assure you it was not an easy decision to step down from the position I’d spent several years building. I had a team of people, customers, and residual income. I’ve heard many, many times in the last six weeks, “My jaw hit the floor,” “I never imagined you’d leave [your previous company],” “Girl, I thought you’d be with [your previous company] forever,” ect. I know, I know…I thought the same thing about it myself. Let me ask this; What could possibly be so good that it could convince me to walk away from what I’d spent so much time and effort building? What business opportunity or products could convince me to leave behind something that had literally transformed my life? The answer is Vasayo, and I just took advantage of a terrific Black Friday/Cyber Monday sale to buy the biggest product pack the company offers, because I’m all in. All. In. The purchase of this pack during this special also includes a ticket to Convention. You know how I love me a convention, right? The purchase of this pack up until Dec 31, 2018 also puts me (and you if you choose to take advantage) in an exclusive group and provides an opportunity to make more money. Who couldn’t use more money?

Well, that takes us back to the wife, mother, grandmother, homeschool mom thing…I know what it’s like to feel like you can’t spend money on yourself. I’ve totally been there. I spent enough time on the back burner that I nearly lost my ability to take care of my people. Hear me out. You cannot pour from an empty cup. You can try for a while, years even, but it catches up to you. Young mommas who don’t think you’ll burn out, hear what this older momma is saying. It catches up to you. When it does, the crash isn’t pretty. The health issues aren’t pretty. The loss of yourself isn’t pretty. You’re not invincible. It’s a tough pill to swallow, especially with all the pressures of social media. It’s hard enough being a mom without all of that. Oy! But such are the days in which we live. You can use the world of social media as a tool to measure yourself against other moms who seem to have it all together (bonus info: they don’t have it all figured out either) or you can use it as a tool of empowerment. It’s up to you.

I feel like I’ve been doing this Mom Gig long enough to use the word “wisdom” once in a while. Not claiming to know it all, but with age and experience does come a share of it. I’ve found that it’s actually a very good and productive thing to invest in yourself. The ROI is priceless. The financial return of that investment is wonderful, of course, but the MOST important thing is the time you’re able to spend with the people who matter the very most to you in the whole world. You’ve got a cell phone in your hand. Let me show you how you can use it to build a business. I’m all in, remember?

Feed Your Head & Your Soul

*originally written March 27, 2019

Week 23, 2 days: Feed Your Head and Your Soul

Some rescheduling this week leads us to the library on Wednesday. I’ve pulled a lovely book from the shelf and checked it out. I absolutely judged this book by its beautiful cover. That first impression led me to read inside the dust jacket for a brief description of the greater content held within. That’s all it took for me to know I want to read more of the author’s writing.

I do a lot of reading to educate myself. Today is no different. I brought my own book to the library with me. Of course I want to read about CBD and its benefits, even though I already know enough about it to lead me to try it in the first place. It was like I had already read the dust jacket. I knew enough to pique my interest. I knew that I wanted to delve into the greater content within. I am now immersed in the pages of this new chapter of my life.

I love reading. Sometimes it is to feed my head, and sometimes it is to feed my soul. Often times, it’s both.


Monday Doesn’t Have to Suck

*originally written Dec 17, 2018

Week Nine: I’m so happy to be at the library today! I’ve missed my quiet time and meandering #LibraryThoughts. It’s always a good time for me to focus and reflect as we launch into a new week. Mondays can be so crazy, and this time of year is even crazier than the norm. Right? We haven’t had our Monday class the last two weeks. The first week the teacher needed to cancel and last week was when Grayson was at the hospital, so I had to cancel. So much has happened. . .

I’m already well into today’s time, and my phone has been busy with real estate business and some folks asking about my new company which is wonderful, and I’ve even set up a meeting with someone needed a knife sharpened by Hair Splitting Edge Sharpening Services. Wow! Go, Monday! Thankful that you don’t always have to suck! Lol!


There has been so much going on I’m not even sure where to begin…

I’ve been extremely humbled by the recognition I’ve received in both of my businesses. Since we were here last, I’ve had a second rank advance in my network marketing business. The support I’ve experienced from my team and encouragement from those of you out there just makes my heart swell. The fact that people trust me to discuss issues that aren’t normally discussed, well, that trust is priceless. Priceless. And with the 0.0% THC CBD coming next month, I can’t wait to help more people than ever. You don’t even know how much it means to me for any of you to simply click “like” on one of my posts. It feels like a pat on the shoulder and an encouraging nudge. Thanks so much, my friends.

I also attended the H2H Christmas party where I was sitting and minding my own business, (well, having a nice time with friends) when I was given an award by my managing broker and total #BossBabe, Celia Camarato Robertson, for Rookie of the Year. I was blown away and humbled beyond words. I got that award based on my sales for 2018. I started real estate in 2017, but 2018 is my first full year. It has been a crazy, busy year spent with some of the most amazing clients; people who have trusted me with what will probably be the largest financial decision they make in their lives. Me? Me. That’s staggering to me, folks. Please don’t read any of this as coming from a place of boasting. Far from boasting, I’m sharing all of this in recognition of all the people who have supported me. I’ve got tears in my eyes as I type this…completely humbled.

As we prepare for Christmas, I’m choosing to focus on the positive and look forward to a happy, healthy, and prosperous new year for my family and all my friends. So even when things are crazy and not going the way I’d hoped, I’m going to remember that Monday doesn’t have to suck….or Tuesday….or Wednesday….ect…

One Week or Week One?

*originally written Oct 22, 2018

This time last week I sat here at the library during Nate’s class and wrote up a big, long post about making a huge change in my life. I’m sitting here today wondering if it has actually been a WHOLE week already or if it’s been ONLY a week. Lol! It has been a whirlwind of excitement, questions, private messages, 3-way calls, potlucks, and making plans for more potlucks. Apparently, I’m not the only one in need of a change. Many of you are too. If you are reading this, then know that you won’t bother me by asking questions. Also know that if you’re curious and ask questions I promise not to hound you forever. If you listen and say it’s not for you, then PLEASE know that our friendship comes first. Always. If we do business together, then that’s just an added bonus. 😍 #AmysAmazingAdventures #HealthandHome #LibraryThoughts

Read the “big change” post here…



*originally written Feb 4, 2019

Week 16: DREAMS

What did you dream about when you were a kid? What did you want to be when you grew up? Oh, it could have been anything, and maybe what you dreamt changed every day or week…because you could let your imagination soar. There are probably some that knew what they wanted as a kid and grew up to achieve exactly that. Then there are those who grew up, got throat punched and body slammed by life a few times, buckled down, and did what was required to survive. These days we tend to call that #adulting.

When was the last time anyone asked you about your dreams? When was the last time you asked yourself about your dreams? Do you even remember them? I can remember one time telling my BFF ( Holly Pomrening ) that I have a treasure box locked away in my heart that holds my dreams. They were on hold, but I kept them safe.

I recently attended a convention in Las Vegas where dreams and goals were a regular part of the conversation. You may have heard that I’m involved in this industry called multi-level marketing. I have been for several years. A lot of people don’t understand what I do. There are even people who make fun of me…both behind my back and to my face. I’m not sure when it’s socially acceptable to make fun of someone’s way of earning an income for their family right to their face, but I digress. I’m pretty tough and have pretty thick skin…and laugh all the way to the bank.

To get started, I didn’t have a huge financial investment I had to make like opening a brick and mortar business. I don’t have to stock my shelves and garage with inventory. I get to feel better, spend time with people, help them feel better, earn an income, and help others earn an income too. I get to dream and talk with others about their dreams, then we lock arms and go about reaching those dreams. If that’s wrong, I don’t wanna be right.