Creating Margin

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Why is our first response when we bump into a friend at the library who asks how we’ve been that we’ve been busy, so busy. I stand guilty here as well. First I say we’ve been good, but busy—and then proceed to share a glimpse of the busyness I feel pressing against me.

For me busyness can be like a shield.

I don’t have to be super vulnerable in my answer.

I feel somehow that being busy is a rite of passage—that adulting is being busy, and multi-tasking, and keeping all the balls in the air.

When we first moved to our new house, we brought with us our old schedule of so much running, so much committing. I thought it was best. And normal. And perfectly reasonable.

For a whole year we interrupted three mornings a week for a dance class. We tried to do a babysit swap on a fourth morning weekly. And then we had karate, which ranged in start-time from late afternoon to dinner-time, four days a week, plus on Saturday mornings. And in the cracks of time between the running, we homeschooled. We always felt like our school-time was crunch-time, because it was. And we were really not enjoying it, or each other.

We moved a little more than half-way through that year. Consequently, packing filled our December—in addition. Oh, everything then was always in addition.

And post move, there was a mile-long list of deep cleaning to attack before I wanted to unpack anything.

I felt like I was trying to sustain living in two worlds—one where we are ultra efficient with our time and adept at juggling a busy schedule, and one where I wanted to relax, simplify, create margin, and sow into community right here in our neighborhood.

The little knocks at the door asking to play were heart-breaking to turn down when it was 4pm and we were still finishing school and about to bolt to be just in the nick of time for the start of karate.

We were running, running, running, it felt, but not getting anywhere.

We did have community, but the missional community we co-led currently did not have anyone else attending from our neighborhood. It felt like another commitment that pulled us away from investing right where we were, which had been a burden on our hearts since long before the move.

What gives? Were we doing it all wrong?

I began to listen. Silence speaks louder when I am listening, I’ve discovered.

Maybe more is not better. Maybe less is more.

Maybe vulnerable and present is life-giving and distracted attempts at multi-tasking are not.

Maybe creating margin is the answer to more rest and more community.

Maybe I need to simplify. My life. My schedule. My home. My heart.

What really, truly matters? Keep that.

And let go of the rest.

We let go of karate and started piano. It took listening to see that karate really wasn’t cultivating healthy within our oldest daughter. She took to piano, which was once a week instead of five times a week. And she began loving it, really loving it. I let out a sigh of relief.

Her younger sister made dance team, and her schedule was now condensed to two after-school chunks. She made amazing friends, pushed herself hard as she is bent to do, and grew in leaps and bounds. Another sigh of relief.

We made a choice moving forward to protect our morning-time except for emergencies, which meant saying no the babysit swap. It was a good thing, just not the right thing for us in this season. I felt more of the schedule-crazed pressure lift.

I decluttered more of our house. If toys or the stuff that congregated on our kitchen counters didn’t have an actual place to be put away, I found a designated home for it or added it to the pile to get rid of. Our home felt lighter.

As our life became less bogged down, my head too began to clear. What was it we had learned in Everyday Mission training about inviting others to join us in what we are already doing instead of adding on more things to our schedule? We eat every day. Why not invite others to join us more often for meals? We are signing up for a summer acro class. Why not try to sign up with a neighbor/dance friend to cultivate that friendship? Heading over for some open gym time? I started including neighbor-friends on the list I text to see if any friends want to join us there.

How could I have forgotten? This life of missional living right here, right where we live—it’s not supposed to drain me, further max out my schedule, or feel impossible. It’s not supposed to be an in addition to, but rather an integration into what I am already doing. It’s just so much easier to see that when I am doing less.

What does it mean to integrate missional living into what I am already doing?

It’s a rewiring of my perspective.

It’s discipling as I invite others to join me in the life I am already living.

It’s growing towards healthy rhythms that will make me whole and spiritually alive—and sharing that in the everyday moments of real life.

It’s showing up. Letting others in.

Not running. Not hiding. Not shielding myself with being too busy.

Part of growing into a healthy rhythm for me has been to create more margin—more white space between the lines. If you have already found healthy in this, it may not be what you need to work on. For me, I needed to start there, with margin, and then it was easier to see how I could invite others into what I am already doing.

Here are some of the soul-searching questions that helped me create margin:

• What in my schedule is life-giving? What is not?
• What are my priorities?
• What in my schedule helps me move towards these priorities?
• What changes could I make so I can approach each day well-rested?
• Can I find peace in my heart amid my current schedule?
• What could I let go of if I begin to think outside the box?

In A Field Guide for Everyday Mission, Ben Conelly and Bob Roberts, Jr. remind us that “instead of segmenting people into different time slots or adding things to busy schedules, everyday mission happens when we redeem everyday moments” (128). (To unpack this more, I encourage you to pick up a copy and look in particular at “Week Four: When Does Everyday Mission Happen.”) They also share in Week Four this challenge-ridden encouragement: “Do we try to fit God’s mission around our priorities, or will we reprioritize our time around God’s mission?” (98).

What would happen if we held our priorities, our time, our schedules, with open hands? What if we dared let God’s priorities fill the space in our lives that our own have, and let our schedules be filled, not with more busyness but more purpose? What if we understood that to live missionally in our neighborhoods we can bring our neighbors into what we are already doing instead of just adding more into our schedules? What would happen if we started by creating a little margin?

Dear Father, you are a good, good Daddy. Would you draw us close this morning? Would you love us as only you can? Would you help us to receive that love as you plant your heart, desires, and priorities within us? Show us how we can create margin in our schedules so we can more clearly see how to invite those near us into the everyday moments of life. Help us to love as you love and disciple as you have created us to. Amen.

Connelly, Ben, and Bob Roberts, Jr. A Field Guide for Everyday Mission: 30 Days and 101 Ways to Demonstrate the Gospel. Moody, 2014.

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