Allison Vesterfelt's Blog, page 19

What I Learned from Donald Miller About Having Fun at Work

I’ve worked a lot of jobs in my life—everything from food service to retail to barista to owning my own business. And the thing I’ve learned from working all those jobs is that there is no perfect job that will make your life feel complete.

Of course, some jobs are better than others—they fit your skill set or your life stage or your personality  better. But all jobs are full of things we love and don’t love.

The key to enjoying your job is not in the job itself, but your mindset.

Photo Credit: Alan Turkis, Creative Commons

Still, as much as I understood that as a concept, it didn’t change the fact that I was still having a really hard time enjoying my work on a day-to-day basis. Some days, I felt like I was in heaven. Other days, it felt like hell. And I honestly didn’t feel like I had any control over which was which.

This was really distressing to me for obvious reasons, but the biggest one was that I have given up so much to do what I was doing—to be a writer. I had moved away from my hometown, sold all of my possessions, and given up the safety of a regular paycheck so I could do what I loved.

So how come some days I was still miserable?

I started using the Storyline Productivity Schedule a few months ago, and it was helpful for me in a few ways. It did make me more productive and efficient in my work.

But what felt most important for me was that it actually helped me enjoy my work day.

It was the craziest thing. The schedule has you make a few lists each morning, and although the lists were simple, what I found was that one of the lists was directly connected to how much fun I had while I was working. If I made this list in the morning, I enjoyed my work day. If I didn’t make the list, the day could go either way, like before.

The list was simply this: What are you looking forward to today?

My list of things I was looking forward to was often filled with simple, mundane things. They were things like “going for a run,” “making dinner,” or “a trip to the grocery store.” But the important shift here was that, before making this list, these exact activities would usually go on a different list.

They were on my “to-do” list.

So, instead of enjoying them, I simply had “to-do” them, and I felt like I was in a race against the clock to get them done. It was almost like I forgot to enjoy them, because they were on the wrong list.

It’s stupid, I know, but making that list each day has really helped me.

It helped me pace myself, remember to enjoy the things I actually love and to reward myself with healthy breaks along the way.

Your list will look different than mine, of course, but you get the gist. What would happen if you made a list of things you were looking forward to during your work day?

Maybe you wouldn’t forget to enjoy it.

The post What I Learned from Donald Miller About Having Fun at Work appeared first on Allison Vesterfelt.

How I Overcame An Everyday Habit And Learned to Enjoy My Life

Recently I decided to quit drinking diet coke.

This is the third time in my life I’ve quit, and honestly, I’m a little embarrassed to admit I was addicted in the first place. Healthy eating and living are values of mine—and I know enough to realize Diet Coke doesn’t fit into those categories. But I got addicted in high school, lured in by the glamour of all the taste with none of the calories, and it’s been an on-again-off-again relationship ever since.

Recently I decided I was going to give it up (hopefully for good this time). What I should have remembered from the other few times I’ve quit diet coke is this:

Quitting doesn’t come that easily.

Photo Credit: Jake Spurlock, Creative Commons

Now, you might be wondering why, on a blog about living with less and chasing dreams, I’m talking about Diet Coke. Why should my beverage choice make a difference?

Don’t worry. I’ll get there. I think there’s a strong connection here, one that can help you overcome the obstacles and addictions that are keeping you from achieving the things you dream of in life. But first, I need to tell you my story.

When it came to quitting Diet Coke, the hardest part wasn’t changing my habits. It was changing my cravings.

In other words, the hardest part about quitting diet coke wasn’t the act of choosing a different option when it came time to order lunch. It took a little bit of willpower to do that, but that was something I could manage. The hardest part were the moments when my body told me it wanted Diet Coke, and wouldn’t accept any substitute.

Have you ever had a moment like this?

Maybe, for you, it wasn’t about Diet Coke. Maybe it was about running back to a bad relationship, picking up a cigarette or buying something you couldn’t afford that would push you into debt.

Either way, the feeling goes something like this: I’ve been here before. I know this is bad for me. But it doesn’t feel bad. In fact, it feels almost like instinct—like what I am craving is something good and natural and normal for my body. It feels like, if I don’t satisfy this craving, I’ll never be able to enjoy my life.

In my case, the cravings were sometimes so powerful they would keep me up at night.

One particular night, I was actually lying awake in a hotel room, trying to sleep, but instead instead of sleeping I was reminding myself—over and over again—why I shouldn’t take a quick trip down to the hotel vending machine.

Frustrated, I sat up in bed, and sent a quick message—an SOS—to a friend who knows a lot about these things. It read: “Help! WHY CAN’T I STOP CRAVING DIET COKE?!”

Her response was telling. She said: “You’re addicted to aspartame.” She went on to explain how the powerful cravings I was experiencing were probably being triggered by aspartame somewhere else in my diet, and that until I stopped consuming it altogether, the cravings wouldn’t go away.

Your body craves what you give it.

In other words, changing my habits wasn’t enough. I needed to change my cravings.

That shocked me. Honestly, it stopped me dead in my tracks. I started to think about how often we try to change our habits, thinking those habits will change our lives, but instead of getting the life we dream about, all we get is a tired mind and a confused spirit from living in contradiction to our cravings.

How often, when we crave something but hate the consequences it brings, do we sink into depression? After all, if that’s what chasing dreams is like—if that’s what it feels live awake and alive to our desires—life must be a cruel joke.

No wonder we give up before we get to where we are going.

My cravings for Diet Coke have completely subsided.

Thanks to my friend’s advice, I discovered I was eating mints and chewing gum with aspartame in them, both of which were triggering the cravings. When I gave up the gum and mints, the cravings stopped. Remarkable.

Changing habits mattered, some. But what mattered more was changing my taste buds, changing my cravings.

I’m not sure what you crave, or what addictions you might be facing (and addictions can be anything from social media to video games to a bad attitude to an abusive or unhealthy relational pattern), but if following your cravings isn’t getting you the result you desire—if you constantly feel like your in a wrestling match with your habits—

Take heart. Maybe you don’t need to keep fighting. Your body craves what you give it. Maybe you need to change your cravings.

The post How I Overcame An Everyday Habit And Learned to Enjoy My Life appeared first on Allison Vesterfelt.

Weekend Reading

photo: Vinoth Chandar, Creative Commons

Each weekend I love to leave you with a list of the best things I have read on the Internet because, well, sometimes, you just need something great to read. I’m so excited to share these articles with you, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I did.

If you read something great this week, leave me a note in the comments. And mostly, enjoy your weekend. Do something awesome!

Anxiety Attacks, Addiction, Depression and Business by Casey Graham

When I read this post, all I could think was, “wow, yes.” Casey’s makes an important connection between extreme personalities and extreme accomplishments, he identifies the symptoms of burnout and he gives practical tips for staying balanced as a creative, entrepreneur, visionary, dreamer or business owner.

Mentally Strong People: The 13 Things They Avoid by Cheryl Conner (via Forbes)

I was really convicted by this article, and given it’s popularity I don’t think I was the only one. Mental strength is something that is really important to me and I see room for growth in nearly all of these areas.

The Difference Between Trying And Doing by Michael Hyatt

You’ve hear the famous Yoda quote: “Do. Or do not. There is no try.” This article gives another great visual picture to demonstrate why there is no use in “trying” things. This was another convicting article for me, and one that has been on my mind since I read it days ago.

7 Crippling Parenting Behaviors That Keep Children From Growing Into Leaders by Kathy Caprino (via Forbes)

I’m sure this article will stir some controversy, but speaking from the perspective of child here, rather than a parent, I have to say I see a strong connection to my experiences here. Are you a parent? A leader? I’d be curious to hear what you think.

Why It’s Ok When A Good Deed Doesn’t Get Noticed by John Richmond (via Storyline)

I loved this story by my friend John Richmond. It made me think about how much my good deeds matter, even when they don’t get noticed. It also made me anxious to speak life to the good deeds around me—to give words to the stories I see so they become more real.

The post Weekend Reading appeared first on Allison Vesterfelt.

Becoming A Good Christian Made Me A Bad Person

I’ve never been a particularly good Christian, if I’m being honest.

Photo Credit: Oleh Slobodeniuk, Creative Commons

I always wanted to be. I watched other people do it and it seemed to come really naturally to them — giving, serving, offering compassion to those who didn’t deserve it, memorizing Bible verses, that sort of thing. Grace and peace and love seemed to fill them up from the inside out and run over the top of them spilling all over those around them. I wanted to be like them but, honestly, felt like it probably wasn’t worth the effort.

I must not be like them.

Then, something happened.

I found this church. I know lots of people have bad stories about church, about how it’s hurt them or wrecked them. But this is not a church story like that. This church didn’t ruin anything. They embraced me, pulled me in, made me believe the most radical notion I could imagine — that I was loved beyond measure and was not a mistake.

I unfolded in that place. Surrounded by hundreds of people who loved God, I surrendered to the idea I was not different from them, that that we were all equally and beautiful loved and created by Him.

I started doing what they did. I read my Bible in the mornings and started to memorize and learn. I went to church as many times a week as possible. My daily habits changed. If you were watching, you would have seen a dramatic shift. You would have seen me break addictions, take better care of myself, solidify my theology and start to understand and hear the voice of God in my life.

But what you wouldn’t have seen was the way I was taking all of this new input out of context. It wasn’t the church’s fault. It was mine.

Becoming a good Christian was making me a bad person.

Becoming a good Christian made me a bad listener. Where I used to be unsure of myself and my ideas about the world, I suddenly felt like I had a platform, a right, even an obligation to share my ideas with everyone. I was a child of God, after all, and the vision was becoming clearer day by day. There was a sense of urgency to communicate truth before we “ran out” of time.

Instead of listening to people and their stories, I ran right over the top of them. I took my words and ideas and even my intellect and used it like a blunt object I could smack over the top of their heads. God had given me the authority, I assumed, now that I was a part of his club. I thought I was doing everyone a favor.

What I didn’t realize was that it wasn’t my responsibility to save anyone.

I couldn’t even save myself.

At the same time being a good Christian made me feel confident in my ideas, it made me feel insecure in my feelings. If what I felt didn’t line up with God’s truth, or the way a Christian was “supposed” to feel, I assumed there was no value in it, and worried if I was honest about what I felt, everyone would see what I’d been worried about all along — I was a fraud. I didn’t belong.

So I learned to keep my mouth shut. I kept feelings to myself and, because feelings were so powerful, avoided anything that made me feel too much. I segregated and separated myself from movies, TV shows, friendships and social events under the guise I was “in the world but not of it.” I pretended to be someone I wasn’t.

What I didn’t realize was God never asked me to become a good Christian.

He asked me to become more like Him.

Here’s the thing about becoming like God. He is diverse and multi-faceted. He is integrated and whimsical. He is graceful and just. He is smart and playful. He is full of wrath and radically forgives. He is joyful and yet grieves over injustice. He is not either/or. He is both/and. When it comes to becoming like Him, there is no formula we can follow.

In fact, becoming like Him, as far as I’m concerned, is a little bit like becoming more like us. I was right to assume that I was equally loved and accepted by God, but wrong to assume I was no different than other Christians.

Of course I was different. People are different.

Something goes wrong when we all try to become like each other. We force ourselves into roles we were never designed to play, exhaust ourselves trying to coax other people to our side. It’s stupid. At the end of the day, if you leave your side, or I leave mine, we lose the beauty and the balance that is this concentric circle — this holistic picture and reflection of God’s light.

Donald Miller says, “Without diversity we can’t grow,” and I think he’s right.

When we try to be the same we get stuck, stunted. We don’t grow up.

My spiritual life won’t like yours. It shouldn’t. It’s not supposed to. And if I try to make it like yours, I’ll miss what I was supposed to see all along — the image of God himself, the balancing point, the center of the circle, what we create when we all stand together and lean into it — listening to stories that aren’t like ours, practicing different disciplines, fixating on Him even in changing cultures and seasons —

God’s image. God’s artwork.

This article is a re-post from the archives of Prodigal Magazine.

The post Becoming A Good Christian Made Me A Bad Person appeared first on Allison Vesterfelt.

Don’t Just Write (Blog, Sing, Teach, Parent). Make Something Beautiful

I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to blog anymore. I mean I want to blog, but I don’t want to just blog. I don’t want to just write either, or just be married or just go to church or just keep my house clean or just make dinner.

I want to make something beautiful.

Photo Credit: Courtney Carmody, Creative Commons

It seems like a subtle distinction, but I don’t think it is really that subtle. It might be a subtle change in language, but when it plays out in real life, I think it can be the difference between a life that falls flat and one that jumps of the page.

I think it can be the difference between a life of boredom and a life of  whimsey.

I think it can be the difference between a life full of joy, and one full of Prozac and pointless suffering.

Lately I’ve been paying attention. I’ve been watching people who are just going through the motions, and people who are making something beautiful. And the most surprising part of what I’ve noticed is that the differences aren’t what you’d think they’d be.

Lives full of beauty aren’t lives full of perfection. They’re lives full of intention.

Lives that are empty aren’t empty because they lack physical possessions. They’re empty because they lack direction.

And to be honest, I feel like I fall on both sides of the spectrum, depending on which day you catch me. In some moments, I know what I am working towards. If you catch me at the right time, I know what I am building, what I am creating with my own two hands—and I’m certain it is beautiful.

Other times, I’m just putting one foot in front of the other. I’m just following the “rules” I think I’m supposed to follow to get some obscure “reward” at the end.

And although I’ve fought with depression all of my life—although anxiety has been like a vindictive friend always knocking at my door—I doubt have to explain to you which days the depression is heavier, which days the anxiety worsens.

I doubt I have to explain what days it feels easy to get out of bed.

I don’t want to go through the motions. I don’t want to just blog, or just write, or just travel or just sing or just show up to church on Sunday morning. I want to make something beautiful.

I want to create something enduring, something that feels good when you hold it—like running your hand across an expensive piece of fabric, or the tears that run down your face when a film moves you from the theater’s seat to somewhere else entirely.

I want my life to feel like one of those stones you pick up while going for a stroll down a deserted beach—smooth, but at the same time, heavy, sturdy and lasting.

I want an heirloom that can be passed down to my daughters.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to just write, just sing, just teach, just be a mom, just go through the motions of modern living. I want to make something beautiful.

The post Don’t Just Write (Blog, Sing, Teach, Parent). Make Something Beautiful appeared first on Allison Vesterfelt.

So, You Don’t Know What to Dream?

I’ve talked to several people lately who claim they don’t know what to dream. Honestly, six months ago, I’m not sure I would have understood what they meant. “You don’t know what to dream? How could you not know what to dream?” I would have said.

Dreaming had become an everyday, regular part of my life.

Photo Credit: motiqua, Creative Commons

Then the weirdest thing happened.

As 2013 came to a close and I reflected on the last year (or few years) of my life, I realized most of the things I had dreamed of doing or seeing—I had done. Most of the dreams I’d dreamed had come true. I know that sounds irritatingly like a Disney movie or something, but I’m serious. I had gotten married, launched an online magazine, published a book, started speaking, traveled to some long-awaited locations and moved a few times until we finally settled in our home in Nashville.

I don’t say any of that to brag. I say it to point out that I think dreams come in seasons. And, at the end of last year, I realized a long season of dreaming had come to a close, and I really felt like I was supposed to rest for a little bit.

So I did. And I’ve been resting. I continue to rest. My theme for this year has been to be gentle with myself, to take care of myself, to learn to change my inner-dialogue. And, honestly, this season of rest feels important, but I get the sense it’s sandwiched between a season of dreaming that was bigger than any I could have imagined, and another one coming that will be bigger still.

And yet, when I hear people say they don’t know what to dream—strangely, I totally understand. I think there are a few reasons we don’t know what to dream.

First, as I mentioned, I think dreaming comes in seasons.

So if you’re in a season where you don’t know what to dream, I don’t think it means you’re “not a dreamer” or that you’re not capable of dreaming or that God hasn’t given you dreams. I don’t even think it’s a bad thing. Sometimes periods of rest are when our dreams are busy percolating behind the scenes, or when we’re busy growing into the person we need to be to fulfill those dreams.

Second, I think dreams often come in seasons of desperation.

For me, this is true. Usually, dreams don’t come to me when I’m living smack in the middle of my comfort zone. They don’t usually come to me when I’m being pampered, or when every need is met, or when I’m living in luxury. There are certainly times for comfort and luxury (and even pampering) but dreams usually  come to me when I’m tired, confused, anger, afraid or pushed to my limits.

Dreams come to me when someone coaxes me to a place I don’t necessarily want to go.

Dreams come to me when I’m fed up, frustrated, or bored out of my mind and can’t bear to stay in my current situation any longer.

Third, I think many of us are scared to dream.

I know I am. No matter how many times I’m reminded of the life-giving power of dreams, I’m afraid of the responsibility that comes along with dreaming. Sometimes I fear my dreams are selfish. Sometimes I fear I’ll never accomplish them. Often, I fear the criticism or ridicule I’ll likely receive for chasing what I want.

Daily I think of how vulnerable dreaming makes me, and how much sacrifice it takes to achieve anything important.

But I also try to remind myself that dreaming matters, that it isn’t selfish to dream, that it’s actually one of the most humble, giving things we can do. That doesn’t make it feel safer to dream, but it makes it feel worth it.

It almost makes me feel like it’s time to start dreaming again…

The post So, You Don’t Know What to Dream? appeared first on Allison Vesterfelt.

5 Reasons You Don’t Have What You Want

I’m not sure what it is you want. Some of your wants might be simple or shallow. Others might be deep and lasting. Regardless, the things we want—really want—say something about us.

Do you want to lose weight? Do you want a new car? Do you want a baby? Do you want a more satisfying relationship with your spouse? Do you want to move overseas to work with a non-profit or ministry?

Photo Credit: martinak15, Creative Commons

When we pay attention to our wants—when we admit them and prioritize them—we wake up to the realities of ourselves and our life in a way that is really important.

Whatever it is you want—here are a few reasons you might still not have it.

1. You haven’t asked.

There’s a reason “you have not because you ask not” is a cliche. Because very often, it’s true. If you want something you don’t have, check to see if you’ve asked for it before you start complaining that it’s out of your reach. Asking for it might be uncomfortable (and in some cases, it might be inappropriate). But more often than not I would say we’re simply scared to ask.

Asking for what we want means being vulnerable enough to admit our deepest desires, and then being willing to accept when “no” or “not now” is the answer to our question.

2. You aren’t willing to give anything up.

Sometimes we have to give up what we want now for what we want later. Sometimes we have to give up something we don’t want very much in order to get what we desperately want. In other words, sometimes we need to give up chocolate cake today in order to enjoy being in shape tomorrow. Sometimes we have to get rid of clothes we don’t wear before we buy new ones.

I’m surprised how often I’m hesitant to let go of what I have without a promise of something better around the corner.

3. You don’t want what you think you want.

My high school English teacher told our class one day: “I hate those bumper stickers that say, ‘I’d Rather Be Fishing.’ If you’d really rather be fishing, you’d be fishing!” At first, I didn’t understand, but the more years that pass, the more I realize he’s right. Most of the time, I do what I want to do.

Even when I do something that feels uncomfortable (like going to the dentist, or showing up to work when I have a headache) there is something powerful motivating each of my actions. I choose what I do. I do what I want.

If you want to know what you really want, ask yourself how you spend your money, resources and  time.

4. You have the wrong view of obstacles.

I think many of us think of obstacles as evidence we’re moving in the wrong direction from what we want. We say things like, “the stars just weren’t aligning” or “I guess God didn’t want me to go that direction.” What if obstacles actually mean we’re going the right way. What if absolutely everything important in life is worth fighting for?

What would it look like for you to stand by the door until it opens? What would it look like for you to approach the obstacle, again and again, until you conquer it?

5. You’re not willing to change what you want.

Sometimes we change what we want, for any number of reasons. Maybe we realize that what we wanted was selfish or unfair, or maybe we discover something better that we didn’t know existed (so we didn’t know we could want it). Don’t be so attached “what you want” that you aren’t willing to change what you want for something better.

When wants become obsessions, we cross a dangerous line where wants become felt “needs” and even getting the thing we want won’t satisfy us as we had hoped.

The post 5 Reasons You Don’t Have What You Want appeared first on Allison Vesterfelt.

How Self-Protection Caused Even More Pain

She took the stage with the quiet confidence of a woman who had a message. Her hair was perfectly in place and  her clothes flowed beautifully over her body. “Today I want to talk to you about the danger of bitterness,” she said.

Photo Credit: epSos .de, Creative Commons

Here we go, I thought. Another sermon about un-forgiveness.

I tried to listen, but I couldn’t do it. I’d heard this all before. Growing up in church I’d listened to at least a hundred sermons or mini-sermons about “turning the other cheek” and loving our enemies. I understood forgiveness. I knew how it worked.

It was just that, with everything I knew, I wasn’t willing to do it.

I know it probably makes me sound cold-hearted, or at least like a bad Christian, but hear me out. I was sexually abused as a little girl, which means: At the young age of four years old I learned what it means to be betrayed by someone I trusted. Not just once, but over and over and over again.

So sitting there in church that day, and every other time I heard teachings about forgiveness, I half-listened. I knew that holding onto hurt and anger was hurting me more than it was anyone else.

But that was fine with me. Forgiveness wasn’t worth it.

“I’m not mad at the person who abused me.”

That’s what I would have told you if you asked me that day. You may not have believed me, but I wouldn’t have been lying. Many times I would try to muster up some pointed anger toward one particular person, but I never could find it.

Maybe it will come bubbling up later, I thought, the deeper I burrow into the layers of hurt, the more I unwrap the numbness I’ve felt for so many years. More time would pass, but I still wouldn’t feel angry at my abuser.

Don’t get me wrong. I was angry. I just wasn’t angry at what happened in the past.

I was angry about now. Present tense.

I was angry at the way I always let other people talk me into thinking things I didn’t want to think, and feeling things I didn’t want to feel. I was angry at the way I seemed to lose  myself so quickly in relationships. I was angry at how lonely I felt — angry people are very lonely.

I was angry that anger was the only tool I had to protect myself.

The anger I felt wasn’t violent. In fact, it was mostly quiet and subdued, like most messages I’d heard about forgiveness were — just two-dimensional paper men and women you put up on a felt board. That was me, my life and my relationships. Just stick figures, asleep to the realities of living.

Every once and awhile someone would come close and learn the truth of my rage. They would wake it up — that deadness inside of me, and without meaning to or even knowing it, they would become the enemy. One taste of that is all it took, and they would turn around and go away.

That’s why I couldn’t forgive.

Not because I wasn’t willing to let another person “off the hook.” I knew better than that. This wasn’t about other people, and I didn’t have any control over who was on the “hook” and who wasn’t. Anger wasn’t punishment. It was insulation. Without anger, I was exposed. Without anger, people got too close. Without anger, people took advantage.

I couldn’t do it again.

I couldn’t suffer another casualty like the first.

Turning the other cheek seemed like the most cruel joke.

The other day I was watching a documentary about Martin Luther King, and I remembered, for the first time since elementary school, that during the Civil Rights Movement King suffered violent attacks against himself, his home, and his family. I wondered as I watched if there were ever times during the whole thing where he thought about saying, “You know, this isn’t safe anymore. This message is important, but I’m going to keep quiet. For the sake of my safety.”

Even worse — I wonder if I would have blamed him.

Sure, now in retrospect, I see the radical way his words have shaped culture in our country. I see the freedom he has brought to homes, friendships, neighborhoods and public education. From where I sit now it is easy for me to look and say “it was worth it” to the sacrifices he made.

But what if I didn’t know what the future held? Would I have agreed that non-violence was the best way to respond to those who threatened his personal safety? Would I have done what King did? Or would I have protected myself — by fighting back, or by going away?

King looked at those who threatened him and said: This is a fight worth fighting, peacefully. Even if I die.

He wasn’t going to protect himself.

The fight I’m fighting is different than that of Martin Luther King Junior. I don’t mean to suggest they’re the same. But they do have similarities, if I’m willing to notice them. They both have the potential to change the reality in which I’m living, and the reality of generations after me. They both require a quiet resolve, a commitment to speak up, to act differently than I have before.

They both require me to abandon my strategies of self-protection.

I wonder if this is how it always is with the important battles in life. I wonder if “safety” is an illusion, and if most things worth doing are risky. I wonder what I would accomplish if safety wasn’t my primary objective.

I’m still sorting, still shaking this all out like piles of laundry, looking for that missing sock that may or may not have been lost in the dryer. But as I step forward toward the things my heart desires, agreeing not to protect myself for the sake of protection itself, I’m finding freedom I never expected.

I’m finding joy I never dreamed possible.

The post How Self-Protection Caused Even More Pain appeared first on Allison Vesterfelt.

Weekend Reading

photo: Vinoth Chandar, Creative Commons

Each weekend I love to leave you with a list of the best things I have read on the Internet because, well, sometimes, you just need something great to read. I’m so excited to share these articles with you, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I did.

If you read something great this week, leave me a note in the comments. And mostly, enjoy your weekend. Do something awesome!

How to Sell Your Stuff | Ruth Soukup

I just recently found this blog, and haven’t had a chance to go through very many posts yet, but I thought this one about selling your stuff could be super helpful, especially for someone trying to pair down their possessions and live more simply. Have fun exploring and let me know if you see any other favorites!

Let’s All Be Friends: A Guide to Not Worshiping or Being Worshiped | Tsh Oxenreider

I love this post. In fact, I’m not even going to say much about it, because then you’d waste time reading what I had to say, and you wouldn’t read the post itself. The world would be a better place if we all started being friends and stopped putting each other on pedestals.

Strong and Weak are Not Opposites. Strong and Fake Are Opposites. | Glennon Melton

This is a concept I’ve known and embraced for a long time, but I love the way it’s communicated here. In a world that seems to be begging us to “shell up” in order to become strong, it’s difficult to stay vulnerable. But vulnerability shows our true strength. Don’t miss this beautiful post.

My Heart is Heavy | Sarah Stanley

This post touches on a piece of my heart I rarely share in this space, but that’s okay because Sarah does it much better. Just to give you taste: “My heart is heavy because we have popular Christian leaders talking about sin of adultery, gossip, lying, but failing to see that gluttony is a sin.” Difficult, but helpful and true words.

How to Take A Digital Break | Claire Diaz Ortiz

According to Claire, 42% of people wish they had a better work-life balance, and if you ask me, a great deal of this has to do with our constant digital access. Is it time for you to take a digital break? If so, Claire explains the best way to do it.

The post Weekend Reading appeared first on Allison Vesterfelt.

Are You Living Your Plan B Life?

For a long time I was living my plan B life and I didn’t even realize it. After all, my “plan B” looked an awful lot like my plan A life. Like a clone or a good counterfeit, it could stand in the place of my plan A life for awhile, but after time, something just didn’t feel right.

I couldn’t put my finger on it exactly. I just knew something was off.

Photo Credit: Steve Spotts

What I really wanted to be was a writer, but if you asked me I wouldn’t have told you that. I would have told you I wanted to be a writing teacher. Do you see the connection there? Because I couldn’t conceptualize what it would look like to become a professional writer, I chose to find a way to express my passion and dreams within a life I could conceptualize.

It felt like I was taking a multiple choice test, and when it came to the questions, “What do you want?” or “What do you dream about?” there were only four or five possible responses, all laid out carefully in front of me.

I worked the problem to find my answer, but when my answer didn’t show up in the list or possible options, I picked the closest alternative. Writing teacher was so much easier for me to conceptualize than professional writer.

I didn’t know how to achieve my plan A, so I accepted plan B instead.

At first, it seemed like a good trade. It felt as if I had found my niche. But the more time that passed, the more I started to sense that something was wrong. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. At first, I thought it was me (I was ungrateful, selfish, destined to be me miserable for the rest of my life).

But as time passed, I had such a deep a sense of restlessness, I knew something needed to change.

And when a close friend pressed me to admit the life I was living wasn’t the one I really wanted, I finally realized why I was so uncomfortable. I was living a pre-scripted, plan B, ultimately counterfeit life.

Are you living your plan B life?

Have you ever considered what your plan A life might be? If you know what your plan A life is, why are you avoiding it? Is it because you don’t believe you have what it takes to achieve it? Is it because you don’t see your “answer” on the multiple choice test of life?

What if I told you that multiple choice test doesn’t even exist?

Since the day I finally admitted I was living my plan B life, nothing has been the same.

My city has changed, my job title has changed, even my last name has changed. But the most important thing that has changed is my idea about how the world works. My plan A is possible. It isn’t easy, but it is within my reach.

There is no such thing as a multiple choice test. I can choose my own answers to the deep questions of my heart and life.

And life is way too short to waste my days living my plan B marriage, career, calling, friendships or any other aspect of my life.

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