It’s Time to Share This.

Years ago, I had a realization that changed the course of my life.

This isn’t a short read, but if you struggle to make decisions—or if you often feel pulled in too many directions—I believe it will be worth your time.

Notes from 2018

Sometimes I feel that if I stopped to capture all my epiphanies, I’d only get to live half a life.

The lessons come so fast and often that I honestly pray there’s an angel scribe on the other side keeping track—because I rarely have time to stop and write it all down. I also pray I’ll remember the details when I finally do have the chance.

But that morning, I felt prompted to pause and try. To do my best to gather up the insights from the past 4–6 months. So here we go.

In October, I accepted an opportunity to serve weekly at the Gilbert Temple baptistry—every Wednesday from 10:15 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. My daughter had just left on her mission the month before, and with all the medical prep and logistics finally behind us, I felt ready for a new opportunity.

After a year fully immersed in her preparations and trying to re-energize my work, setting aside the middle of every week to be still—to serve quietly for six hours—was both a challenge and a gift. It gave me space to think, pray, and reflect in one of the most peaceful and sacred environments on earth.

Time and again, I noticed something powerful: the stresses I carried in with me were usually resolved—or softened—by the time I left. Week after week, I was reminded of truths I hadn’t fully understood before. I saw principles of ministering play out in simple, beautiful ways through our weekly training meetings.

One of the instructions struck me deeply: our job was to make the youth feel loved, welcomed, and appreciated—without correction.

That one idea was its own sermon.

The Black Woven Ankle Bracelet

One Wednesday afternoon, a young woman arrived, preparing to stand as proxy for someone who hadn’t had the opportunity to be baptized in life.

She looked panicked—desperately trying to untie a black woven bracelet from her ankle. She was clearly distressed, wanting to remove it before participating in the ordinance, but it was tied too tight. Her anxiety was rising fast.

Remembering my training, I smiled and said,
“It’s okay. You can do the work just as you are. We’re so grateful you’re here.”

I loved that our training instructed us to assist only with love, gratitude, encouragement, and kindness.

Of course, it’s ideal to perform sacred ordinances without distractions—but that bracelet didn’t disqualify her. What mattered more was that she felt loved. That she felt welcomed. That she felt wanted.

I didn’t need to instruct her on how to “do it better next time.” I just needed to love her where she was.

And here’s the thing: when people feel unconditional love, they often choose to change on their own.

“People don’t resist change—they resist being changed.”
~ Bob Proctor

That moment got me thinking: What would it be like to meet the Savior, and in the middle of being overwhelmed by my own flaws, hear Him say,

“It’s okay. I’m grateful for all you do. I’m glad you’re here.”

Just imagining it filled me with awe—and a deep desire to become better.

“For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.”
~ John 3:17

Christ’s love doesn’t excuse our flaws. It doesn’t give us a pass to remain unchanged. But when we really feel that love, we’re inspired to grow. We want to become more. It draws something holy out of us. That’s why people across history have left everything behind to follow Him—because they either tasted that love… or they hoped to.

Two Dreams That Changed Me

I first felt it in a dream when I was 15.

I was at a fireside, and a young boy from “the other side” had come with a panel of visitors to speak. There was a young boy among them, and he (at least) was from the other side - from heaven. No big deal. He looked like someone out of a Charles Dickens novel. After the meeting, I approached him and asked what he remembered most about heaven.

He simply said, “The Love of God.”

And when he said it, I felt it. That love flooded my soul, and I woke up weeping. It was real, and I was never the same.

But I also had another dream around the same time.

In it, I was at a water park with friends when I looked up and saw the clouds gathering, rolling unnaturally fast. Suddenly, I saw the Lord descending, arms outstretched—and I felt horror. I wasn’t ready. I knew it, and it filled me with dread.

Those two dreams shaped me. One showed me how I wanted to feel when He came again. The other showed me how I never wanted to feel again.

“I’m Sorry This Is All That I Am.”

Years later, as a young mother of three, overwhelmed and exhausted by the chaos of life, I fell to my knees—not to repent, but to give up.

I sobbed,
“I’m so sorry that this is all that I am.”

It felt final. Like I had failed.

But almost instantly, I felt heaven smile, and a quiet message filled my mind:

“Finally! You recognize your dependence on Me. Now I can work with you.”

Wait—You’re not mad?

Jesus said,

“I am meek and lowly in heart.”
What a contrast to the angry, critical voices I’d been hearing in my own mind.

Bringing That Love Home

My experiences at the temple made me wonder:

What would home feel like if I brought that same spirit of unconditional love, patience, and appreciation into my family?

What growth might my children experience if correction and criticism were replaced with gratitude and joy?

What if I just loved them—without the pressure of constant instruction? Could the Spirit teach them better than I ever could?

I began to trust that yes, love inspires growth, and that I could lead with meekness.

“Meekness is strong, not weak. Active, not passive. Restrained, not excessive… Readily acknowledges the accomplishments of others.”
~ David A. Bednar

The promise is that the Lord will "guide, protect and strengthen us as we walk in the meekness of his Spirit;" (David A. Bednar) and by extension, I believe that our children can also be guided, protected, and strengthened as we demonstrate meekness in those relationships. It's still not 100% natural. I have to remember the beatitude: "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth."

“None is acceptable before God, save the meek and lowly in heart.”
~ Moroni 7:43–44

He adds, “If we could but believe, really believe, in the reality of that bold but accurate declaration, you and I would find ourselves focusing on the crucial rather than the marginal tasks in life!”

For me, that was one major lesson of 2018.

So… What Do I Want to Be When I Grow Up?

Serving at the temple quieted something in me. I felt peace and fulfillment from doing something simple. It made me wonder: what other hidden treasures might I discover in a humble job?

So, I considered becoming an “office lady” at the high school where all my kids would soon be. Not a leadership role, not a big mission—just a way to show up daily in the lives of my children and their peers, like I’d done for youth at the temple.

The more I thought of it, the more excited I got. It had been kind of refreshing over the last year to take a day each week to just do whatever I was instructed to do. To NOT have to think, or create, or market my wares, but to simply follow someone else's instructions day in and day out, applying myself to the work joyfully, and serving with a heart full of love for God and my fellow men.

It sounded perfect. I actually let myself imagine it thoroughly, and check in with how it could feel.

And then… out of the blue, I got a call. A position had opened at another campus, and someone thought of me.

I hadn’t even applied.

(I HAD casually mentioned what I was thinking to a friend of mine, who, unbeknownst to me, had told someone else, who arranged for the phone call.)

Suddenly the possibility became very real. The opportunity was showing up a year sooner than I expected, and it wasn't at the location I had imagined, but what if I took it? I ran the numbers and got really serious about what the job would entail, and what sacrifices I might need to make in order to accept the position.

1. It would be full time, a good 40 hours a week.
2. I would need to cancel all of my events already scheduled for the coming year.
3. I would need to ask permission any time I needed time off for my business or my family.
4. It would pay in one month what I sometimes make in a day.
5. It would likely not be the same kind of environment I enjoyed every week at the temple.
6. I would have to quit my weekly temple assignment.
7. I would have to keep up on my business in the remaining hours of the day after work.
8. And this one struck me the most: Is this the life I worked 20+ years to build for my family?

The conclusion I came to was this:

I CAN do it if I want to. I have that choice.

But what a colossal waste of the gifts, knowledge, work, and talents the Lord has bless me with through all my trials... and for what? To hold a position that someone else could fill, just because I think it might be fun to try something new, something that doesn't require my leadership, thinking, or any of the other skills I've spent the last two decades developing?

I feared that if I squandered what the Lord has given me, it might be taken away forever. What if I forgot all I learned, because I didn't feel like applying myself to it any more? What if everything we had built was allowed to evaporate, just because I was kind of wanting to stop tending it?

We had been through too much, and I had learned too many powerful things, to not continue on the path of sharing what we'd learned far and as wide.

Choosing My Master

I realized something.

For years, I’d been torn between motherhood and mission, family and business, home and clients, making a paycheck, vs. giving myself to causes.

I've spoken about balance, and the myth that it is. I've swung between the two worlds, bending back and forth so much I sometimes thought I might break. Both seemed to be worthy causes. Both needed me in ways that could not be delegated. I lived in overwhelm for many years wondering how I would possibly do it all.

So, I thought, maybe if I get a regular job where I don't have to think so hard, I could be a better mom. Makes sense, right?

But it had me wondering:

What IS my mission?

Is it to be the wife and mother I always dreamed of being, or is it to be a teacher of true principles that helps other wives, husbands, mothers, and fathers around the world? Should I take up an occupation where I might have the mental bandwidth at the end of the day to be more fully present with my family? Or, should I continue in my own work and business, and hope that God will hold my family together despite me?

Eventually, it hit me.

I don't know why it took me two decades to see it, but this wrestle between the two worlds, the two paths, or options, literally melted away as I came to a new thought altogether:

I had already come to the conclusion that I needed to stick with my own work and business rather than pursue the job as an office lady. But the wrestle between motherhood and business was still there.

But in truth, I wasn’t serving two masters.

I was serving One.

God.

Serving God might mean making breakfast for my daughter in the morning and helping a customer with an online course an hour later. It might mean teaching a class or folding laundry. Hugging a friend or answering emails. Smiling at a stranger or writing a newsletter.

Whatever I was doing—if I was doing it with love and integrity—it was His work.

The wrestle between “work life” and “home life” dissolved. It was all one life, one mission, one Master.

“No man can serve two masters… Ye cannot serve God and mammon.”
~ Matthew 6:24

If I worked for money, I’d serve mammon.

But if I worked to serve God—trusting Him to pay me through clients, customers, or even employers—then every job became sacred. Every interaction, holy.

And that’s when I knew.

This is how I want to live. One purpose. One focus. One Master.

This is Operating in God's Economy, trusting Him to pay you through your employer as you serve his children (your clients, customers, co-workers, and superiors) with generosity and integrity. Consider it, and your confidence will grow as you begin to test and practice losing your life in the service of others in whatever you're doing. Just be 100% with whatever you're doing and with whomever you're serving in the moment, and you'll find that God makes a way for you to have the time you need to do it all.

_________________

•   To discover how to start choosing more effectively now, read The Jackrabbit Factor (FREE!)  
•   If you want more step-by-step guidance on creating the life you really want, join me in the Mindset Mastery program.
•   If you want my help overcoming that giant obstacle right in front of you, learn more and sign up for Genius Bootcamp.