Doing Something Harder

Note from Adrian: This is a guest post from my friend, Natalie, who echoes my heart 100% in almost every area of life. Natalie is a Christ-follower, a newlywed, an orphan advocate, an almost-official social worker, and a lover of all things cute and artsy. She live in St. Louis City with her curly-haired husband where she blogs and tweets about little things and big stuff.

(Want to write a guest post for Life Before the Bucket?)
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For me, living life to the fullest has meant different things at different times. But I don't think I've done it well until lately. And even now, I seem to face decisions in increasing frequency when I feel myself want to choose the less "full" choice.

I'm currently in the last month of my graduate program. In May, I will hold in my hands a Master's in Social Work. You can do a whole lot in social work. While most people think of middle aged white women coming to the door of poor families to snatch away their kids, I've learned social work also involves running youth programs, providing activities for the elderly, and advocating for or against policies.

As I search for a job, I feel myself desiring a 9a to 5p job with a cushy salary, frequent rewards, and little stress. Those social work jobs are out there. And because I have a background in journalism, those jobs are always on my mind, too. Working in front of a computer at a magazine? Sure! But I know the clear voice of a God who has been calling me to more for the past three years. I desire to work with families who have lost all respect from society. I desire to advocate for vulnerable, hurt children. I want to work in foster care.

I'm glad to be underpaid and overworked in the name of advocating for the best interests of a child. I'm glad to be called at all hours to address crises that arise when emotionally hurting kids are expected to act "normal." After all, we are called to "speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves" [Proverbs 31:8]. God has given me the faith and the resources to not only survive, but excel, at doing something harder. At speaking up. He has taken my idol of comfort and security and pushed it a bit further from my reach.

While social work is what I know I am called to do right now, I also know there will soon be a time when I am called to be a mom. I feel this most wonderful, scary, uncomfortable desire to adopt kids from hard places. Kids who have experienced great loss and whom very little may be known about. And this is okay with me.

I will not boast in my plans, but instead keep an ear out for God's. And even when I think I know His plans for my husband and me, I will continually submit them to Him. I will have constant conversations with Him. I will whisper to Him when I feel the uncomfortableness creeping in.

"Come now, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit'— yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, 'If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.'” [James 4:13-15]

What is life if I don't feel uncomfortable sometimes? What is life if I don't feel stress and worry once in a while? What is life if I don't say, "if the Lord wills"?

To me, this is living life to the fullest.

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Questions: What hard things do you feel called to do? What scares you most about those hard things? What have you done lately that was uncomfortable, but worthwhile?

This guest post was part of a guest post series called "Living to the Fullest." Interested in joining in? I'm still looking for submissions! Just write up a post, or even just an idea, and e-mail it my way!

Letting Go of Grudges

Note from Adrian: This is a guest post from one of my new blogging friends named Luke. Luke is an aspiring author and rollercoaster designer. He is currently studying engineering at Rose-Hulman Institute of Technology in Terre Haute, Indiana. He loves the cornfields of the Midwest much more than the beaches by his home in San Diego, and if you ever meet him, he’ll probably give you a hug.

You can follow his blog, Twitter, or check out his model roller-coasters on Youtube.

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The other day I met with a guy I hadn’t seen for many years. The conversation went a little like this:

Me: So, uh, I really wanted to talk to you, cause, ummm...

Guy: Cause what? You can tell me.

Me: Well, cause I’ve kind of hated you for the past five years.

Guy: What?! Why?

Me: Cause five years ago, I was struggling with being gay, and then you spoke and said some stuff that sounded really homophobic. I was planning on finally asking for help that day, but after you spoke I changed my mind.

I braced myself for the reaction. Was this Christian guy going to get offended and lash out at me? Was he going to just get up and walk away?

The guy didn’t do any of the things I feared he would do. Instead, he looked me in the eyes and said, “I’m SO sorry.” And he said it in that real honest kind of way (as opposed to the not honest politician sort of way).

We had a good conversation after that. At first he thought I was living a gay lifestyle, so he told me that he loved me and cared for me no matter what I did. He said he wished that one day I would find comfort in God instead of in other men.

I quickly corrected him and told him that I fight my desires every day. I explained that once I worked up the courage to tell people, my struggles got a lot easier. Once I told people what I was going through, I stopped wondering, “What if they all hate me?”

Instead, I started thinking, “I can’t believe these people still love me.” And while this thought has never made my struggles go away, it has given me a stronger resolve to fight. Before I left, the guy prayed for me and gave me a hug.

I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I also felt guilty that I had waited 5 years to have this conversation. “God, if I’ve really hurt someone,” I prayed,
“Please have them talk to me right away. Don’t let them hold it in for as long as I did.”

The whole conversation with the guy couldn’t have lasted more than an hour, but within that hour, 5 years of bitterness melted away. Not all such conversations have turned out as spectacularly for me, but if you feel bitter against someone, you should take any opportunity you can to make things better, even if it means opening up your heart to someone you don’t like.

There always seems to be that guy (or girl) in your life that fills you with anger and frustration every time you think about them. Whenever you happen to walk by them, you think, “Please don’t talk to me. Please don’t talk to me.” Most of the time, they don’t talk to you and you continue to feel that anger towards them in the depths of your heart.

Stop doing that. Go up to that person, but not in an angry way. Make yourself vulnerable and show them how you feel. Hope for an apology from them, but be ready to apologize for some crazy thing they confront you with. It might not always work out perfectly, but it should lift the weight of the bitterness you’ve been holding in. Life can be enjoyed so much more when you don’t have a gazillion past grudges holding you down.

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Questions: Have you ever struggled with holding grudges? What keeps you from talking with people who you dislike? How do you think you would feel if you talked with someone you held a grudge against?

This guest post was part of a guest post series called "Living to the Fullest." Interested in joining in? I'm still looking for submissions! Just write up a post, or even just an idea, and e-mail it my way!

image credit: windchime - sxc.hu

Calling All Writers!

I had this elaborate post related to basketball from this past weekend worked out in my head... and then I scratched it.

So, in lieu of boring you to death with basketball metaphors, I have an announcement:

We need more guest posts for the "Living to the Fullest" guest post series! 

This series has become wildly popular over the last few weeks, and I'd like to keep that momentum going. Sadly, I'm almost out of posts, so the series may die (if not helped by you!) just as it's getting going.

So, if you have a computer (which you clearly do), and you have a brain (which I'm less sure of, but still almost certain about), then you can contribute!

The criteria is rather simple. E-mail me a guest post, or even just an idea for a guest post. If it relates to the topic and I enjoy your writing, you're in!

So that's that. Why are you still here, then? Get to writing and e-mailing me!

Thanks a million!

How I Became God's Basking Case

Note from Adrian: This is the second part of a two-part guest post from Aly Lewis in our Living to the Fullest guest post series. Check out part one, "The Unwelcome Elephant," if you missed it yesterday. And don't forget to leave some love for Aly and follow her on her blog and on Twitter!

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And that was the beginning of the basking. The beginning of a life lived to the full.

This basking is just my way of saying that I learned to accept God’s love for me.

The basking started imperceptibly. A few encouraging words here. A short reprieve from guilt there. Cheeseball alert: then I began writing love letters to a skeptic: myself. Things like,

Aly,

I love you if you work out.
I love you if you don't work out.
I love you if you sweat sweat sweat it out.
I love you if you don't eat enough.
I love you if you eat too much.
I love you if you call mom back.
I love you if you isolate yourself.
I love you if have a productive day at work.
I love you if you sit on Facebook the whole time.
I love you if you're feeling hot.
I love you if you're feeling bored.
I love you if you give to the poor.
I love you if you splurge on a fancy dinner.
I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you.

It sounds cheesy. It sounds silly. But something REAL began to happen in my heart and my mind as I began to bask in these words of love.

In fits and starts, this Love began to come alive not only in my thoughts and reasonings, but in heart and in my life. “I love you” began to come alive.

And as “I love you” came alive, the elephant began to die. I began to tell myself a better story that allowed me to live like I was loved, like I was forgiven. I became vigilant in my basking, leaving no room for the elephant to trumpet his tauntings in my life.

And only after months of keeping the elephant at bay, did I finally begin to believe that maybe there is a loving God. That maybe it was the God of love who made me free, who was there loving me all along.

That maybe He’s the better story.

You may be thinking, “That’s all well and good for you, Aly, but what about your initial prayer asking to love and serve others better?”

Turns out my church friends who told me to bask knew something I didn’t: I can’t love others if I don’t love myself.

If I had followed God’s greatest commandment “To love others as yourself,” what a disaster that would have been (and believe me, it was.) How could I expect to love others if I went around accusing, attacking, and belittling them like I did myself?

In Margaret Feinberg's book, The Sacred Echo, she explains this transforming power of self-love better than I ever could. She says,

"When God echoes I love you, it’s not a slice of information but a feast of transformation. I am invited to experience the fullness of God’s love in my life, heart, and spirit. The holy metamorphosis is designed to ring so genuine and true that others can’t help but notice. When I love you is alive in my heart, I become freer to love others. When I love you is alive in my mind, I become better at expressing that love. When I love you is alive in my life, I become a smidgen closer to being who God has called and created me to be."

Love for myself made me freer to love others, to serve others, to defend the poor, and be a voice for the voiceless.

One of my friends once said “Self-hatred is a social justice issue,” and I couldn’t agree more. How can I believe the poor are worth anything if I don’t believe I am worth anything?

I really do believe this basking, this experience I've had with God's unconditional, unconventional, unfathomable love, has shaped and formed me to love others better.

It turns out the only antidote to the fear, self-doubt, and condemnation that sneaks in to poison our lives like unwelcome elephants is LOVE. Compassion for ourselves. Grace for ourselves. Which bleeds into grace for others, for a hurting world.

This is the backbone of a life lived to the full. A life lived without an unwelcome elephant.

I’m sure it sounds cliché. I mean, it’s the basis of our faith. You were probably looking for the advanced version, not the Life-to-the-fullest-for-dummies. But I’m a dummy when it comes to getting this spiritual life right. And perhaps this is more for me than for you, but sometimes I just need the reminder that I AM LOVED. That the elephant doesn’t win.

Psalm 34:8 says, “Taste and see that the Lord is good.”

If you want to live a life to the full, taste and see that you are loved. Then slam the door on that greedy little monster’s face, and go (or rather skip) on your merry way, bidding farewell to this unwelcome elephant, unencumbered and free.

Let the basking begin.

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Questions: Were you surprised at how Aly decided to turn into a basking case? What does this look like in your own life? How can loving yourself better (and letting God love you) be a form of social justice?

This guest post was part of a guest post series called "Living to the Fullest." Interested in joining in? I'm still looking for submissions! Just write up a post, or even just an idea, and e-mail it my way!

The Unwelcome Elephant

Note from Adrian: This is a guest post from Aly Lewis, a fellow blogger. Aly is a twenty-something writer from San Diego, CA. When she’s not writing ridiculously witty and yet still thoughtful and inspiring copy for the international non-profit Plant With Purpose, you can find her roller blading, showing off her dope hip hop moves, or overanalyzing her quarter life crisis. 

Aly has a passion for social and ecological justice, anyone who speaks Spanish, and experiencing the God of the unexpected. You can check out her mismatched musings on her blog, Memoirs of Algeisha, or on Twitter!

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The feeling only comes in two sizes: regular - can’t shake this vexing sensation but still able to function, and extra large - paralyzing, life-stopping, all-consuming.

If you allow this unwanted guest to sneak past the bouncer of extra large you can pretty much say hello to an eternity of bumping and grinding with this guy in the nightclub of hell. When he comes looking for you in your modest skirt and smoothed hair, assuming invincibility because you don’t flaunt yourself around like a floozy, you need to stop, drop, and roll off the bus leading you down the one-way highway to the danger zone.

Trust me, you do not want to let this guy anywhere near you, your hopes, your future, your children, even your dog. He will squash your dreams and eat your confidence for breakfast. He will steal your identity and transform you into a small, frightened child. His presence prickles your hair and dries your mouth. With your heart beating like a conga drum, he wraps his icy fingers around your tender throat, daring you to call out his name. But you can’t reveal his identity. You don’t even know who he is.

But I do. He is the unwelcome elephant of fear and self-hatred.

You give him an inch and he’ll take a foot, your leg, your whole body and mind, and your little dog too.

This is not a life to the full.

I used to let this elephant rule my life. I used to tell myself awful stories. Depressing, really. I told myself stories of how dumb I was. How ugly. How boring. How awful. I was never good enough. Even in my relationship with God I wasn’t good enough.

So I left the church. I left it all. What was the point? How was I supposed to love God or love my neighbors if I didn’t love myself?

And I stayed there, angry and encumbered.

Until I became God’s basking case.

No, not basket case, (although I’m sure there’s a hint of that, too). Basking case.

This part of the story starts with a rebuttal.

When I first came back to church, people started asking me if they could pray for me. Most of the time, I said no.

But after awhile, after racking my brain to come up with anything I might like the almighty creator of the universe to help me out with, I finally decided on the one prayer request I felt comfortable asking.

“I’d like to be able to love and serve others better,” I mumbled more to my feet than to anyone in particular.

And the response?

“No, that is not what you should pray for.”

Excuse me?

Since when does a prayer request have to pass quality control? When I was a junior high youth leader we'd pray for students' sick fish, cats, and Nano babies. No prayer was too big or too small.

But the congregation had spoken: I was not to pray to serve others better.

“I have an image for you instead,” they said--they all said, different people on different occasions. All with the same image, the same concept. The same Instead...

Instead they all had an image of me basking in God's love.

One couple told me, "Aly, you are beautiful. I see you lying in a meadow. Soaking in God's love."

Another woman (on a separate occasion) told me: "I see a picture of you in a field of flowers, basking in God's love."

Another person straight up told me, "No, I don't think you should pray to love others. I believe you need to bask in God's love."

The first time I heard this, I scoffed.

The second time I heard this, I scoffed.

The third time I heard this, I started to get nervous.

Basking, really? That’s about the sissiest verb I’ve ever heard and somehow everyone in this church is obsessed with it.

I didn't want images of soaking and basking and laying lazily in a field of wild flowers. I wanted to help people. I wanted to make a difference. I wanted my god to care about injustice and oppression. I wanted my god to help me love others better, to quiet the guilt in my heart for being born to a well-off family in the wealthiest country in the world.

If you're going to give me an image, I thought, let it be of selling all I have and giving it to the poor. An image of writing award winning exposés that shut down sweat shops and bring justice to the marginalized around the world. An image of revolution. Of anger. Of action.

That's not what my church friends had for me. And it's not what God had for me either.

Check back tomorrow for Part Two of Aly's story!

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Questions: Does being God's basking case sound "sissy" to you? How would you react if someone told you that you should focus on basking in his love? Do you struggle with the unwanted elephant that Aly describes?

This guest post was part of a guest post series called "Living to the Fullest." Interested in joining in? I'm still looking for submissions! Just write up a post, or even just an idea, and e-mail it my way.  

Living to the Fullest: Can a Mom Do it?

Note from Adrian: This week's guest post is from another one of my blogging friends named Katrina. Katrina is a wife and mother to one amazing man and two beautiful girls, blogs over at Finding Equipoise where she strives to find a balance in life, love, motherhood and creativity. She is a musician, book-lover and wanna-be writer who is trying to pursue goals to be better, at everything.

Follow her journey through this crazy life on her Facebook page, Twitter stream or Google+.

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One of the most powerful things I have learned in this life is that I am in charge of my own happiness. I may not be able to control everything that happens to me, but I can control how I react. Or, more importantly, how I act.

Toward the end of 2010 I became a divorced, single mom of a newborn and a two-year-old, faced with an entirely different life than I had imagined. It was in that moment that I realized I had not been living life to the fullest.

I decided to make some changes and got to work creating 28 goals to accomplish in my 28th year of life.

Then, just as I started working on them, everything changed again. My husband and I decided to work things out and got remarried. Life got busy again and I wasn't able to accomplish as much as I thought I would in 2011. Still, I accomplished far more than I had in previous years and learned a few things along the way.

I discovered that the only way to live a full life is to have something to work toward. We are here to learn, to be better, to be stronger, and to be smarter. My goals gave me a purpose and a clear path to walk. They gave me the key to taking control of my own happiness. They taught me how to figure out what motivates me. They also taught me that I am stronger than I give myself credit for. Finally, they taught me that I really can do anything I set my mind to- as long as I have a plan for how to get there.

So I kept some of the goals I still had to work on from last year, and set some new ones to make 29 for this year. Yet sometimes, even when you have goals, it can be difficult to move forward and live fully.

Lately I have been struggling in an emotional pit of despair. I could not keep up my goal of healthy eating and exercise. I would start over and fail again and again. Then, I discovered that I have never really loved myself and, though that gave me something else to work on, it knocked me down even more.

I racked my brain, tried new things, even prayed for help to find a way to motivate myself again.

I had been doing mostly at-home workouts to achieve my goals. I kept getting the feeling that I should change it up. I have always loved running, but I was afraid to try because the last time I ran (over two years ago) I could hardly make it to two minutes without feeling like my lungs would burst.

Last week I got the distinct impression that I needed to go for a run. I spoke to my husband and he offered to put the kids to bed so I could go that night. As I was preparing to leave, he came in to tell me it was snowing. I have never run in weather like that. I almost gave up and sat on the couch instead of braving the storm. I looked outside to find that it was only lightly snowing/raining. There was no wind and it was rather warm for a snowy evening.

I went.

I started with a brisk walk for a warm-up and was off running after five minutes. I ran until I got a side cramp. I checked the time and found that I had run for 10 minutes straight. Ten! Even in high school, I could never run that long without stopping to give my lungs a rest (side cramps were constantly present.) After walking for a minute to breathe away the side cramps I ran for another five minutes and then turned around and ran for another 10 minutes straight. I had to talk myself through the last couple minutes, but I made it to my goal spot and cooled down with a walk the rest of the way home.

I was awe-struck - triumphant, even, after months of putting myself down because my body wasn’t looking the way I wanted. Weeks of fear that falling off the wagon had cancelled out all my previous hard work were put to rest. After all the emotions and tears and frustrations, I discovered that I am in the best shape of my entire life. Having a setback didn't negate all the progress I HAD made.

After my run, I was the happiest I have ever been with myself. I literally loved my body, in that moment, more than I ever have. I was PROUD of myself- a very rare feeling for me. It was exactly the motivation I needed to recommit myself and get out of this funk. Exactly what I needed to know what loving myself feels like.

Goals.

Finding out what I wanted out of my life. What I wanted to do, to improve, to be. Creating goals that would help me get there. That is what has given me control over my happiness and my future (as much control as I will ever have, anyway). Goals are what help me live my life to the fullest.

I may not always do it perfectly. I may fail over and over, go through rough patches, periods where I feel inadequate, but that is OK too. Life is not meant to be lived perfectly, but to continue the imperfect journey no matter what. It's just a matter of dealing with each hurdle as it comes.

I am certain that as I make goals and achieve them, I will come to the end of my life with no regrets and will be happy with myself - it’s one of my goals, anyway. And that happiness, to me, is what will signal that I’ve lived life to the fullest.

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Questions: What sort of goals have you set for yourself to work toward this year? How are you doing on those goals? Is there anything you struggle to do because you don't think you do it well enough?

This guest post was part of a guest post series called "Living to the Fullest." Interested in joining in? I'm still looking for submissions! Just write up a post, or even just an idea, and e-mail it my way. 

Living to the Fullest: Can a Nomad Do it?

Note from Adrian: This week's guest post is from another blogging friend called Nowhere Man. Not much is really known about the Nowhere Man. He seems to be on some sort of personal quest.. a never ending search for purpose. With each step a new discovery that brings him a tiny bit closer to unveiling the true meaning of his own existence. Hopefully, someday he will find what he is looking for.

The Nomad keeps a journal of his travels, exploits, and mishaps on his blog, Nomad Way of Life. He can also be found on the Twitter Machine.

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A full life can mean something different from person to person. Whatever those differences may be, the main significance is what matters to you.
It doesn't necessarily have to involve exploring the world through wanderlust like I do.

Or leaping off of a perfectly good bridge with a rubber band tied to your feet, hoping for a thrill or rush that you can't experience on perfectly stable ground.

It could be taking the time to enjoy the simple things in life that we all too often take for granted, like taking a break from those stress-inducing work-related phone calls that seem to suck way too much out of your life.

For a brief period, take a walk through that favorite garden of yours to find that perfect flower. Or even better, enjoy a beautiful sunset as it’s warm glow glistens over the horizon (my personal favorite, I’ll admit).

An experience is much more fulfilling with the cell phone turned OFF, when you don’t have to worry about having 10 seconds to breathe.

Perhaps it’s that child’s smile and the joy you have, knowing that you have brought new life into this world, or the thought of having the opportunity to shape that miniature being into something that will make the world a better place.

Take the time to do whatever it is you truly enjoy, no matter what, void of any excuses (which are easy to conjure up), because the truth will inevitably reveal itself..
The day will come when those little things that held so much joy will be the most important memories of your life.

Enjoy beauty.

Enjoy life.

Most of all, enjoy the time that you get to spend with the people that you care for the most.

It took losing everything that I ever owned or possessed, as well as the one person that I was ever able to truly love in this world, for me to finally wake up and open my eyes to the beauty that surrounds us every day. I can't say that I am glad that it happened, but I will say that it was a hard lesson that I needed to learn. The worst thing that any of us can ever do is to take for granted all of the gifts that this world offers us every day.

Cherish your blessings, no matter how small or insignificant they may seem at the time. We only get one shot at this, so let’s make it count.

I know that I will not live forever. I accept that. The time will eventually arrive when tomorrow doesn’t come. But until that moment arrives, I will do everything that I can to live for today.

Carpe Diem.

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Questions: What do you enjoy doing that makes your life feel fulfilled? What gifts do you sometimes take for granted? How can you "seize the moment" today?

This guest post was part of a guest post series called "Living to the Fullest." Interested in joining in? I'm still looking for submissions! Just write up a post, or even just an idea, and e-mail it my way.

Living to the Fullest: Can a Single Mom do it?

Note from Adrian: This week's guest post is from one of my internet friends named Kateri. She's a 27 year old single mother living in New York. She writes often about her life as she experience it at her blog, which you should subscribe to. Be sure to read this post and leave her some epic feedback in the form of a comment!

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When I start writing, I try to really make sure I understand what it is I am typing about. So, yeah, I Google’d the topic. Do you know how much phony bologna websites there is about “Living Life to the Fullest” or “Living an Abundant Life”?

There are TOO MANY.

So, now that I have sworn off being correctly informed on the topic… what shall I do?

There was a time that I didn’t live at all. Not to say that I didn’t wake up and go through the motions. I did those things – eat, shower (mostly), and sleep. However, that was not living; it was existing.

I feel that on the whole, our society exists. We wake up, we go to work (or don’t go to work), we come home, we eat, and then we go to sleep. Rinse and repeat. Yup, I once existed, with no drive to be more, and no conviction to try for better.

Then, I had my son. Now, for some people, children are the joy of their lives: it’s a feeling only expressed because society tells them to. When I had my son, I literally saw a light. I wasn’t supposed to, you see. I was supposed to be very lucid after giving birth. I lost a little too much blood, and being anemic, I passed out. I saw the light while passing out.

However, when I woke up, there was Emry, in all of his awesomeness. And now that I was aware, I knew everything had to change.

There was no more waking up whenever I felt like it.

There was no more working when I felt like it.

No more unsavory people, situations, or behaviors that I had become accustomed to, that I had grown to secretly hate, but would never say such because I was too far gone.

Looking at him, there was no choice. I had to live. I had to push forward and see that there was more to life, more than just the motions.

I call that Day 1.

Since then, I have strived to better myself (and Emry) by truly becoming an adult. I got me some edjucation. Hahaha – I know you all would get my joke. But, seriously, I found something I was good at, and I went to school for it. I got a degree and then… I didn’t use it. Turns out that what I was good at wouldn’t pay the bills. Wouldn’t support my son and I.

(Yes, I was married during this time, but we weren’t happy, and my change of direction made things worse. Not the reason for this post, so let’s just say… It’s always been my kid and me on this journey.)

Now, the feelings of defeat were starting to set in, and I really thought that I would never get anywhere.

Soon, though, another light appeared. That light’s name is Melissa. Melissa is undoubtedly my best friend and is the one of the purest people I have ever met. She gave me a lifeline. She told me about the position I now work at.

I work in the field of healthcare, and positions of worth are few and far between. However, this one was a perfect fit. I got in, even though I was sure they hated me, and have been working here for the past 1 ½ years. It’s a Christian-based organization, so really, how could they hate me? But, you find hate, or fear, in any organization.

After the 3 years of hard work, studying, defeat, and the almost loss of motivation, I had taken another step in the right direction.

Sounds quirky, right? Sounds Lifetime movie-esque?

Well, it’s the truth. Plain and simple. It all ties together, though.

To live life to its fullest, you must make positive steps in your growth as a person. Whether it is through your faith or other belief systems, you need to make a plan and stick with it. The plan can be modified, as long as you keep pushing.

Never compromise your values to get what you want. Good things come in time to those who deserve them.

You do not want to live the life you want based on the fact you schemed, or acted duplicitously. It wouldn’t truly satisfy you when you did get it. It would never be truly earned.

Living honestly and truly – that’s living life to the fullest.

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Questions: Do you know any single parents? How do they make time to live life to the fullest? If you were in the same situation, how would you strive to life more fully?

This guest post was part of a guest post series called "Living to the Fullest." Interested in joining in? I'm still looking for submissions! Just write up a post, or even just an idea, and e-mail it my way.

Living to the Fullest: Can a Teenager do it?

Note from Adrian: Today's guest post comes from my sister, Tanna Waller. She's an aspiring writer and singer, and has a rockin' awesome YouTube channel that you should subscribe to. Enjoy her post and leave her some love in the comments section!

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I’m seventeen years old.

I’m too young. Too naïve. Too ignorant or innocent.

In many peoples’ minds, I’ve hardly lived life at all.

But in my short seventeen years I’ve learned many things.

I’ve learned that you have to give to get. Not everyone is going to like you, no matter how hard you try. You have to treasure the moments you have with your loved ones because there will never be enough of them. I’ve learned that family, friends, and even your enemies are all important, and all deserve to be loved.

I’ve learned that life is about adapting, about changing, and about making the best out of any situation, no matter how hopeless it may be.

Take my brother, for instance. He has a ferret on his face – you know, that thing he calls a beard. People tell me that it’s weird, or that he needs to shave it. Maybe that it’s not “Christian” or “Godly.” But I say, Power to The Ferret. If that’s what makes my brother happy, then so be it; that’s what should make everyone happy.

Take my sister. She got pregnant when she was seventeen (the same age I am, in case you didn’t catch that). She was too young, naïve, ignorant, innocent. But she got pregnant, and she had that child, and her son is my favorite person in the world. It wasn’t the best situation, but we have always made the best out of it.

Now take my father. He died when I was thirteen. Before he died, he wasn’t always a steady figure in my life. He wasn’t always the best person to be around, and he didn’t always do the best things. But I loved him. I loved him with all of my heart, and I still do. He was taken tragically from my life, and from my family’s lives, but we’ve made the best out of that situation.

My family and I have realized that we need to show each other love, and be kind to each other. For instance, every Friday, my dad’s side of the family and I get together and have dinner. The pizza is terrible, but I treasure those Friday nights because I don’t know how many more of them I’ll have.
I treasure my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, my cousins, my siblings, and my mother, because I have no idea when any of them will be taken from me.

So, I’m seventeen. I don’t know anything, but I do know how to love. I know how to give. I know how important every person in my life is. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Because that’s what living life to the fullest is all about.

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Questions: What did living life to the fullest look like for you when you were 17? How different was it from the life that Tanna describes here? 

This guest post was part of a guest post series called "Living to the Fullest." Interested in joining in? I'm still looking for submissions! Just write up a post, or even just an idea, and e-mail it my way.

Living to the Fullest

When I started this blog a year and a half ago, I wasn't sure what to make of it.

I didn't think I'd be posting regularly, but I also wanted people to read and to share their thoughts.

Both of those things, though, seem to have come (at least partially) true.

I think that we've really lacked something around here, though. And no, I'm not talking about a time machine (though I'm working on it).

What I'm talking about is a decent guest post series. Sound interesting? Keep reading.

I'd like to feature pieces from people just like YOU, whether you're a blogger or not, about how you personally live life to the fullest. I'm looking for a lot of different perspectives, so don't be afraid to think outside the box on this one.

If you're interested, here are the steps you should take:

1) Write about a time you've lived life to the fullest or how you regularly live an abundant life. Basically, if it sorta, kinda fits this idea, I'll probably like it.

2) Make sure it's less than 750 words - because that's about my attention span.

3) E-mail your post to me... now! Here's my e-mail: awaller1990@gmail.com. 

4) I'll respond with any ideas/edits I have and when I'd like to post it. I reserve the right to deny a request for guest posting, but that'll probably only happen if you make fun of my beard.

I'd like to start featuring posts next week, if possible, so let's make it happen, people! And if you aren't sure what to write about, get up from your computer, step away, and live a little - and then write about it! Simple enough? Great. Can't wait to hear from you!

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Questions: Do you think you'll submit a guest post? Why or why not? What will you write about?

Did you enjoy this post? If so, I'd appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing it with your friends. Thanks a million for reading!