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Putting the Margins Back into Life, One Latte at a Time

See this latte? If you’re a coffee drinker, it looks awesome, right? Very inviting. Foamy. Caramel drizzle. Love in a cup, no?

See the mess behind it?

I’m going to let you in on a little secret: I left it in the picture on purpose. Because lately, that’s just how I roll.

This little story is about more than a steaming vanilla latte on my counter waiting for me.

It’s about mess.

It’s about rest.

It’s about life with no margins versus life with margins.

As a book author, just days away from Not Just on Sundays hitting the public, I am learning a lot about margins. For formatting reasons, I have to have inside and outside margins, so that there is room for the paper to be cut as needed to make a neat, perfect 6 x 9 book. I also need a gutter margin so that there is space in the binding; when someone opens the book, he/she doesn’t want to try to read my words sinking deep into the middle. Needless to say, without margins, books are an epic fail, a mess. They need clear boundaries: distinct “start” and “stop” places for the words. Even the headers and footers need space in-between themselves and the main text. Otherwise, everything lacks clarity.

It turns out life is that way as well. It needs margins. If I plan back-to-back events with my kids, there is no driving time, no accounting for traffic delays, no time set aside to eat. If I overplan our schedules, I can’t pick three kids up from different locations at the same time. Likewise, if they don’t have any time outside of school, cross country, dance, marching band, and karate, they will not be able to do homework, to get rest, to unwind, to restore themselves.

As it turns out, I can’t publish a book and keep my house clean and meet every need in the kids and finish important conversations and remember people’s birthdays and return phone calls within respectful amounts of time and grocery shop. Nope.

For a while, I was putting pressure on myself that I could do all of those things well. Not long after, I quickly swirled into a tunnel of not only can I not do them, but I suddenly couldn’t remember to stop to take my vitamins, shower, read, eat regular meals, etc.

I started living life without margins.

And, like the text of a poorly formatted book, I bled into the margins.

Publishing term for you. Bleed (blēd) (n.) Text or graphics that extends all the way to the edge of the paper it is printed on. Bleeds are used in publishing for graphical effect and for printed tabs. Most printers cannot print all the way to the edge of the paper, so the only way to produce a bleed is to print on paper larger than the final page size and then trim the paper. (v.) To run to the edge of the paper, thereby producing a bleed.

What did living without margins do?

It bled into my relationships (no time to meet).

It bled into parenting and marriage (a lack of patience).

It bled into my sleep patterns (a screen right before bed and a 1:30 AM bedtime).

It bled into my health (one should get regular rest, meals, exercise).

It bled into my prayer life (quickly zapped-off prayers instead of more time listening to Him and dialoging as if we were at coffee together).

But unlike the cover art of a book that is supposed to bleed over the edges for printing purposes, the text of my life was spilling out of the margins. Text needs con-text. And the con-text of my life was living, breathing, eating time up in blog-writing, book pre-launch and launch, and publishing. There was no margin in my context.

So, the latte on my counter? The one with the trash behind it? Today that is my built-in margin. I’m trying to get them back, one edge at a time. The countertop can remain messy for a few days. I’m not superwoman, after all. The laundry is probably not going to make it upstairs, but it’s folded to be pulled out of the basket. The book will be published. It’s just a matter of days now, hopefully.

But I need to get my edges with a little wiggle room again. Otherwise, I’m, well—edgy. And that’s not only not fun to be with, but it’s a hectic way to live…on the edge.

Margins in books are boundaries for the eye to know where to read without too much busy. They are how the mind sorts out headers and footers, but the printer needs the area also to keep the edges clear for paper being cut without taking text with it. I don’t want to have my text removed—either in my book or my life. Without margins, something gets cut out. It has to. We can only do so much.

Margins in life are boundaries too. They are healthy spaces where we are just still. Where we don’t have something scheduled. Where we have down time. Where we say “no” so we don’t lose our context—or the “text” of who we are.

Today the latte mug sits on the counter, happy to be accompanied by trash that will eventually be thrown out. It represents a choice to respect myself and others around me enough to insert margins again.

Is anyone else also needing some?

I want a “rebuke the wind and waves” of life kind of moment. I want to find “completely calm” again in-between the frenzy. Who’s with me?

Mark 4:39, Apostle John-Mark narrating

He [Jesus] got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm.

Psalm 131:1-2, David speaking

My heart is not proud, O LORD, my eyes are not haughty; I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me. But I have stilled and quieted my soul; like a weaned child with its mother, like a weaned child is my soul within me.

*Update since this post was written: Not Just on Sundays: Seeking God’s Purpose in Each New Day published October 1, 2014. It is available in paperback and as an ebook.

This post has been shared with Christian Mommy Blogger, Blessing Counters, and Tell His Story.

When the Fight Is On: Choosing to Not Get in the Ring

19 Sep

This essay was originally called “Roots of Bitterness, Explosions of Shame,” and it would have been somewhat satisfying, I suppose, to tell it from only one perspective—mine. But after writing it initially to process my horror at this scenario, I decided to look at it from the viewpoint of any of us when we don’t understand grace. Because when we don’t understand or practice grace, or even when we don’t have it for ourselves, bitterness rises up like a vine climbing that tall oak in the backyard. And then all of a sudden, it chokes us, or something sets it aflame. I wrote this to look for the lessons in it. Where can I do better? Where do I get caught up in similar unnecessary anger? Where can I “step out of the ring,” so to speak.

A while back, in a very public setting, I had someone approach me very angrily when a boundary was drawn for her. It was someone I had known, marginally, for years. I’m guessing, based on the irrational and very scary level of her rage, she has trained most people in her life to never draw boundaries that she has to observe. Then she met me, and unfortunately, I’m a hyper-boundary-draw-er. And while I didn’t walk in that afternoon with any angry feelings toward her, she must have thought that I did, or clearly she wouldn’t have spent her week wasting her time planning to ambush me. She’s no different from so many of us, except she let it get to a boiling point.

Really, if we’re honest, how many times do we all waste time with stressed-out, one-sided, furious, imaginary conversations in our heads when we think there’s a major issue—but there really isn’t one?

Seeing how ramped-up she was, there was no good reason to engage in conversation at that moment other than to shut it down before it escalated. Nothing good would be accomplished by me letting her vent like that. She needed to calm down and find a better way to approach me. Then I would have listened. I hope I can show honor and respect toward others even when I disagree with them; I hope I always give them a chance. After I managed to get out to an area where there were more people, she continued to get in my face and insist on setting me straight. I offered to leave if that would be helpful in stopping the toxic rant. After a while, in front of several others, she backed down. Phew!

The entire thing shook me to the core. So I had to dig deep and ask myself:

What about me incites such wrath?

What the issue was? Minor and irrelevant.

Isn’t it always the dumb, insignificant things that set off sparks between people, that light the flame?

What freaked me out in this experience? That this woman unleashed four years of hatred, misunderstanding, insecurities, and self-justification onto me in just a few minutes over something so incredibly minor. She had built up so many wrong assumptions about me based on gossip, without fact-checking.

But she is not alone.

Really, if we think about it: How many of us do that daily? If I’m honest, I do it at times. And it struck me not only in terms of searching my own soul as to what about me provoked such emotion, but it also forced me to reflect:

Where am I holding on tightly to dislike of and bitterness toward someone else?

Despite how very hard it was to climb over the wall of self-pride, I made myself pray and asked God to show me the two sides of the coin. I spent many a night waking at 2 AM wondering how someone could hold on to that much hatred, only to spew it, without any warning, like Mount Vesuvius?

While I still think this woman was unfair and inappropriate in how she handled this situation, it caused me to look for where I was being equally unfair to anyone in my life on my “Do Not Like At All” list. We all have one.

Where are we being a “root of bitterness”? Where might God be offering us correction by perhaps allowing things to come against us that we need to make sure we are not guilty of ourselves?

I’m also learning that just because people want to fight/argue, it doesn’t mean we have to get in the ring. Some folks are always going to want to fight for the thrill of it; they have no intention of getting to resolution because they already have another ring reserved for a different day.

I’m all for honest conflict resolution, but one of the best growth points for me this year has been to walk past the ring and say, “No, thanks. Choosing to walk over to the peace bench. Feel free to join me there, but if not, this is where I’ll be if you need me.”

The two verses in Hebrews 12:14-15 pretty much sum it up for me:

“Make every effort to live in peace with everyone and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one falls short of the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many.”

Do you find you are being drawn into a ring in your own life, one that isn’t productive and somehow keeps scheduling a fight?

Or do you find yourself wanting more ring time than necessary, constantly looking for someone to battle?

How can we “make every effort to live in peace,” setting healthy boundaries, not only to model how we would like to be treated but also to take a personal stand in grace to anything trying to steal our joy, thieve our energy, discourage our hearts?

The ring is a choice most of the time. I am going to strive to only enter it when the stakes are huge and justice needs an advocate. Otherwise, I hope to live almost entirely outside that ring.

Hebrews 12:4-15

In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. And have you completely forgotten this word of encouragement that addresses you as a father addresses his son? It says,

“My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline,
and do not lose heart when he rebukes you,

because the Lord disciplines the one he loves,
and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son.”

Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father? If you are not disciplined—and everyone undergoes discipline—then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live! They disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. “Make level paths for your feet,” so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed.

Make every effort to live in peace with everyone and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one falls short of the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many [emphasis mine].

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