Margin: something I need, but also struggle with

Margin: it's something I've written about (e.g. https://mmuser.blogspot.com/2015/08/margin-in-life.html), but not always been good at doing. When I saw this blog post by Beth Bathelemy I was reminded again about margin. Not just how important it is, but why I struggle not just to keep it, but sometimes when I'm in that space of not-so-busy, I feel uncomfortable.

I ran into a quiet spot in my work on Friday
when I was basically waiting for other 
people to do stuff. Margin! So I rode to my
favourite local park for a couple of hours.

But first, what is margin? Beth shared this great quote by Richard Swenson:

“Margin is the space between our load and our limits. It is the amount allowed beyond that which is needed. It is something held in reserve for contingencies or unanticipated situations. Margin is the gap between rest and exhaustion, the space between breathing freely and suffocating.”

When I find myself without much margin in my days, things in our lives get compromised that shouldn't be. That can be important work matters, or it can be family, or not being able to help someone else. Without much margin my health suffers: I don't get exercise, or my eating gets sporadic and unhealthy, and because I'm the manager of our larder and maker of our evening meal, if I don't have much margin that spills over to affect everyone else in the family too. If I've overcommitted, I'm often not sleeping well and responsibilities that I have aren't being attended to. I can't pay as much attention to the people in my life if I don't have good margin and I begin to suffocate and let others down.

I thought I had plenty of margin at the start of August in Australia when I'd planned to start back at work after six weeks off. However, in that first week we had family drama as we had flights cancelled, then rebooked, and then an emotional farewell as half our family flew back to Japan. My middle son and I cleaned and moved into new accommodation, and had to adapt to living with another family. Plus we received a new diagnosis to add to the others our son already has. In the middle of all that I sat back at my editor's desk where a large amount had piled up in my absence. Then my throat and head started hurting and I started coughing . . . and it was COVID. All my margin was gone and it took weeks to get back to a place where margin was again in place. I had miscalculated, but also run into some large, unexpected things. And that's really partly what margin is for: to give room for the unexpected. It's just that, in this case, I didn't allow enough (and of course, it is not always possible to allow enough margin).

As a writer and creator I find I also need margin to think, to ponder, to reflect, and to write. The extroverted part of me struggles with that sometimes, but I'm generally happier and more balanced if I've had time alone to think.

However, I also grew up with a strong work-ethic instilled in me. So these words of Beth's also spoke pointedly, they echo some of the struggles I have when I'm not-so-busy:

Recently, however, familiar doubts crept back into my heart and mind. Am I doing enough? Will this read impressively in my newsletter? Is our ministry fruitful enough? And from this lowly place of insecurity, doubt, and discouragement, I forfeited my margin.

I think it's something that people in ministry struggle with especially. Usually we have a lot of drive, are conscientious, and feel the pressure of the overwhelming needs around us. Consider that we ourselves work in a land where less than 1% of people know Jesus and not many more than that have even heard of him. Plus, we live a little bit in a glasshouse: writing prayer letters every month, and responding regularly to a variety of other requests for information about how our ministry is going. All these things can pressure us to increase the load of what we do until we have nothing spare.

But Beth concludes with thoughts like these:

What if we were to put aside our ill-conceived, worldly perspectives on success and productivity? What if we rejected the false narratives of self-importance and worth based on accomplishment? What if we, like Christ, “self-empty” ourselves unto God?

These are good thoughts. I'm full of pride, I know. I measure my days according to how many things I've knocked off my to-do list. I like to think of myself as productive and useful, skillful and clever. What would it look like to move further away from all that?

I'm reading a short book right now by Timothy Keller called The Freedom of Self-forgetfulness.
Where I left the bookmark last night it says:

"So Paul does not look to the Corinthians for his identity. He does not go to them for the verdict that he is a 'somebody'. He does not get that sense of identity from them. But he does not get it from himself either. He knows that trying to find self-esteem by living up to a certain set of standards is a trap " (p. 28).

Paul and Keller exhort us to let go of the idea that we can get our identity from what others think of us, and even from living up to our own standards. We are loved by God. Not because of what we've done for him, but because of what he's already done for us.

Another book I've finished recently called Gentle and Lowly by Dane Ortlund says a similar thing. Christ loves us far more than we can comprehend, and our response should be to simply obey the invitation in Matthew 11:28: "Come to me."

But, on the other hand I've also realised that God has created us to both do and be. I'm still trying to balance that up, but I don't think this side of heaven I'll get it right. I can recount many times that I've been told or heard sermons or talks that said that we ought not to look at our schedules for our self-worth. But I also know that God tells us to do stuff. Yes, our primary worth is as a human being made by God, but we've been gifted with varying levels of strength and intellect, gifts and talents, wealth and opportunities. God calls us to DO stuff. Not because that's the way we earn his love, but because we love to serve him, but how easy it is to switch those two things!

So, how to live with these two things in balance? How can I be comfortable with "being", with dwelling in that space between my responsibilities and what my ultimate limit is? How can I fulfil my responsibilities without feeling that they add up to my worth, and therefore when I'm not "doing" I still have worth?

These are questions that I don't think I have an answer to yet. At the moment I'm being very careful about what I say yes to, beyond my usual responsibilities. I know that just under the surface lurk things that tap my energy, and often they are difficult to predict. Some days I just feel overwhelmingly tired by 8pm and struggle to get up in the morning, for no discernable reason. I also know, looking ahead, that we've got some big transitions next year that will take a lot of energy.

So, I'm moving ahead, walking tentatively and keeping my eyes on Jesus, rather on my own nervous, flaky self. And surrounding myself with people and habits that will correct my course when it goes astray.