Judd Alsup - Realtor

MERRY CHRISTMAS from the Alsups! Thankful for another year and the faithfulness of God.

His goodness didn’t stop with a baby in a manger thousands of years ago! The love of the Father is alive and well in 2025.

Arkansas, summer heat will really highlight your need to upsize. 🥵☀️

I’m sure your kids love playing outside, but this 100+ degree heat will drive them back indoors pretty quickly. And when everyone’s cramped inside, it becomes all too clear: you need more space!

I know how it feels. You set up a perfect little play area in the backyard, only to watch the kids get filthy sweaty and then run back inside because it's way too hot.

Maybe you’re smart and wait for the shade of the evening. Unfortunately, in our neck of the woods, you may not be dealing with the excessive heat anymore, but these freaking mosquitos are out in full force.

With everyone forced inside, suddenly, your cozy home feels like a pressure cooker.

Your living room is a chaotic playground, with toys everywhere and no quiet corner in sight.

It’s overwhelming, isn’t it? 😅

What if you had a home where the kids could have their own space to play, even on the hottest days. A playroom just for them, where they can let their imaginations run wild without taking over the entire house.

Picture yourself with a bit of breathing room, a peaceful spot to relax, and enough space for everyone to spread out comfortably.

More room means less stress and more joy, no matter the weather.
Life’s too short to feel cramped and stressed in your own home.

If you’ve been feeling the pinch this summer, maybe it’s time to think about upsizing into a home that fits your growing family.

I’ve built out an entire system dedicated to helping growing families treat their growing pains by upsizing. It’s called The Upsize Blueprint.

Grab a copy of my free guide to walk you through it step by step.

Link in bio.

Savoring every moment with this crew.

NEA Folks… Shad’s or IV Kings? Argue below. 🤓🤓

She hit a strike on her second roll! THE ROOM WENT WILD.

Our small church group met up at Hyjinx the other night. Our kids played on the giant indoor playground while we caught up.

As usual, the dads started trash-talking each other. Before we knew it, a game of bowling had been bought and were lacing up.

Very quickly, we all realized that we were all trash and the game became very docile. Our competitive nature was gently hushed by the public humiliation that comes with excessive gutter balls.

Neither here nor there…

Slowly, our kids started to filter in from the playground into the bowling lane area.

My oldest daughter ran up to me and asked if she could bowl. I looked around and all the other kids were begging their dad’s to bowl too.

So, we set up the lane right next to us and got their game started.
We left the rails down but got them the fancy little ramp to guide the ball.
Ellie was up first.

I took her up there, with her little purple bowling ball, and told her what to do.

She tossed the ball on the ramp and off it went!

Things were looking pretty good until the ball took a last second slight turn and left some pins up. We were able to line up the ramp with the remaining pins and knock them all down - she got a spare!

She was so excited!

Before she knew it, her second turn was up. She knew what to do this time!
She put the ball on the ramp. Pushed it with everything she had. And…
STRIKE!!!

Everyone cheered and you would have thought, by the smile on her face, that she had just won the lottery!

I love that little girl. This won’t be our last trip to the bowling alley!

I never thought I would be learning life lessons from my flower beds… But here we are.

I thought they were dead.

My roses that is! Whatever dumb dumb who planted them, unevenly spaced them. And if you know me at all, you know that I’m slightly OCD. I broke and had to fix them.

I cut down a nasty, giant bush in the middle of my flower bed, dug up the rose bushes, and spaced them appropriately.

I took a step back, brushed the dirt off my gloved hands, and looked at my handiwork. It was exactly what I wanted!

Over the next few days I began to notice something… the two bushes I moved were wilting. And not just a little bit. They looked like they were dying.

I watered them and they got worse. To the point that every single leaf and flower had turned brown. Even the main stems were brown!

As the weeks went by I lost hope, because they weren’t getting any better. But I took some advice from my mom and trimmed all the dead foliage off.

I continued to water and nurture. Before long - new buds appeared. Then, new flowers and leaves! They weren’t dead. They were experiencing something called transplant shock!

I tell you that story to say this… I was so certain that they were going to die and I was going to have to buy new bushes. Bushes that weren’t the same as the others. Bushes that didn’t match the size of the others. Bushes that didn’t fit.

I thought hope was lost. I mean, 4-5 weeks of being brown and dead was fairly convincing.

But hope wasn’t lost.

I feel like as an adult, this is a theme sometimes. The world and all of its craziness just feels so hopeless. Even if you hold on to that little glimmer that humanity still exists, more often than not I think it just slowly keeps fading.

I was reminded by my roses, that no matter how dire or dim it may seem, that hope is still worth having. And I’m doing life in that light now.

Being patient. Nurturing relationships and situations. Watering even when it seems fairly pointless.

It’s important to remember that maybe I just have a limited scope and just like I had no clue what transplant shock was, maybe I just don’t have the full picture.

So err on the side of grace. And hang onto a little hope.

They kept telling me not to do it, but I did it anyway.

When I was pretty young, like 7 or 8, I was obsessed with jumping off of things.

The couch was my go-to launch pad.

My parents had told me time and time again, to STOP JUMPING OFF THE FURNITURE.

But naturally, I didn’t listen.

To be honest, it wasn’t from a place of wanting to disobey them, but the couch was in front of the TV. Get some TMNT or Power Rangers rolling on the tube and I was acting it out.

This means, all the explosions and action scenes had me jumping onto or off of the couch! Naturally.
One day, there must have been a super sick, Michael Bay style explosion because I LEAPED off the couch. When I hit the ground, I landed on my arm super awkwardly.

Snap.

My arm was broken.

I would learn later that it was a small break - nothing crazy. But broken nonetheless.

I tried to hide it; my parents picked up on it fairly quickly though.

Some tears, spankings, and x-rays later… I got a cast. A camo cast. It was legit.

Fast forward 25 years or so. My kids are great kids, but they repeatedly do things I tell them not to. Let’s just hope we don’t have another camo cast in our future.

What is it they say? “You pay for your raising!”