Let’s see, do I have everything? Computer and cord, blanket scarf (in the unfortunate event air conditioning has turned a lovely fall day into the polar vortex), library book to return, shopping bags and list, Bible study (in case I get a few minutes in car line) and the snack bag (never forget the snack bag!). This is how I leave my house most days. I run from one thing to the next, always having to think three steps ahead. Do I have the notes for that meeting, the right shoes to get a work out in and enough food to get me through the next six hours? It’s a lot and as you can imagine, I often fall behind and have to call my next meeting and say I’m running late. I jam too much into a day and if one thing gets off track, the whole day is off-the-rails and I’m running, running, running!

Have you ever noticed how pages come with margins? That lovely clean space around the perimeter of the words so there aren’t letters or punctuation marks running right off the page and falling into the abyss. Margins offer a space to work that leaves a little room. Margins keep all the thoughts confined to the middle of the page. But perhaps the best part is that they leave room for mistakes. I make a lot of mistakes; how about you? I misjudge how long a conversation will take, what the expectations are, or I show up in the wrong shoes with the wrong attitude. Margins allow time to find parking and to take the long way round if the bridge is out. So, if I get a little lost or need to take a phone call, margins give built-in sidelines to my day—to my life, which gives me space for such things.

Am I Available?

Margins give us room to breathe. A few minutes to collect ourselves and the space to help others. More importantly, margins give room for God to use us. When I pack my day so tight, I’m not available for any assignments He may have for me. Maybe a conversations that starts out about the weather (a fav topic here in Michigan) takes a deeper turn and demands more time or maybe one of your kid’s friends asks for a ride home, but really it’s a divine appointment for prayer. If I don’t have any margins in my day for such things, I will miss out on what really matters. Is my goal to check off my to-do list? Or to bless people? Do I get up in the morning with the goal of turning out three loads of laundry, replying to work emails, and helping with the school play? (Surely these things need to be done.) Or is my goal to be available to those who may need me?

The other day at the grocery store, the checkout girl was new and young and she was struggling. I had built in extra time to go the store so I was able to be patient, but the woman behind me was loudly complaining about how slow the line was moving (I saw myself in this woman), but I just smiled kindly as the girl apologized for needing to repack my bags a couple times; she was going to need some encouragement to get her through the next client. I have to build margins into my day and hope others build margins into their days when I might . . . say, lock my keys in my car (and then my son’s piano teacher has to load up her 4 kids and mine and come get me at the post office and then drive me home to get the spare key and drive me back again!). So . . . I might need some big margins.

Creating White Space

Last week I talked about making time for kindness in our days: see Drafts on Kindness in Tiny Beads. I have been pondering just how does one build free moments into our hectic lives? There is no easy answer and it looks different for everyone depending on where we are in life. Perhaps getting up a little earlier than usual? One of my friend’s gets up at 5:00 a.m. to get her time with the Lord in before her children wake, and I believe she also gets in a whole pot of coffee (I mean—it is 5:00 a.m.!) To me that is a ridiculous time; clearly meant for sleep! But I guess we are all different. Of course, we can not stack our days so tight, perhaps spacing out meetings in case they run late (don’t they always?). If you have small children (or just any children or even a dog) getting ready to leave 20 minutes sooner so you have time for the lost shoe hunt, muddy paws, spilled juice on the one day you actually thought—maybe, just maybe, you could finally wear white again.

I just got a text about a playdate after school today; and while I did say yes, I put a hard border on the time. If I make it home by 5:00 p.m. instead of 5:30 p.m., that extra half hour margin will allow me to be a more patient mother at bedtime, which is most often when we have our best talks about God and life. (I’ll let you know how it goes . . .) Update** So, I did make it home around 5:00 p.m. and still felt crazy trying to get it all done; but when my son asked me later to read to him about the weird creatures in the Bible in Ezekiel, instead of being ridiculously past bedtime it was just sorta past bedtime—so I went for it. I was glad there was that little clean margin on my page for that conversation.

These are simple ideas, and I know there are just days that have no margins (and sometimes the Lord calls for our time when we feel we have no time to give). Yesterday, a friend texted me after her child threw a fit about having to wear pants to school and then they got in the car late to only realize she was completely out of gas. This is the type of day where the words are written right on to the edge of the page with no room to breathe. Maybe there is something you need to say no to in order to have more time in your life for God to work. My husband and I have had seasons of saying no to good and fun activities, like sports and sitting on the board of great nonprofits, because it just made our days spill off the pages. Things I would love to volunteer for or writing projects that I would be thrilled to take on, but knew it would just fill my days to capacity and I need (I think we all need) margins for the Holy Spirit to move.

I find when I don’t build space in my day, I get crazy, I have no patience, no time and I more than not end up with a headache that has me stuck at home anyway. I want to take it all in. I want to fill every second of my day with coffee dates, work projects, community events. I think of those old letters people used to write when paper and postage were expensive and they would literally fill ever inch with teeny-tiny writing, even on the envelope.

Does your life look like a Jane Austen letter?

But my eyes need a place to rest—white space, if you will. Gaps from the words of life to just not have to focus and think and try. Margins allow us to write postcripts to our day, underline and draw arrows out to the edges; making note of this or that, praying for this person or that person as the Lord lays it on our hearts. I know for me, I may need time to take an unexpected phone call. I may need time to comfort and encourage hurting people; taking note of what they are really saying and what they really need. I may need time to stay late and talk. Sometimes I need your margins and sometimes you need mine. I’m trying to keep clean edges on the pages of my day.

What does the Lord want to write in your margins?

Is there space for Him? Or have you filled your days tight like a Jane Austen letter?

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Bins of teeny-tiny Perler beads awaited us at the elementary craft night at our library. My child had been begging for these minuscule beads for over a month. In case you missed it, check out my last post on How I Melted the Dog’s Face to see our first round with this craft. I avoided them for about two years, but my number had been called. We are back for more, but fooled not by their cheerful riot of colors: neon, pastel and sparkly. I know exactly how this was going to go down. There will be certain colors needed, tiny beads stuck to sweaty little hands, all going everywhere except the peg on which they are supposed to land. Tables bumped, tears (mostly mine), and this just a night of fun crafts with kids. So as you can see, I went into the event with the right attitude.

I had brought along my computer to hopefully catch up on some work, thinking I would sit in the hallway and not necessarily participate in this struggle, I mean craft activity. But I could quickly see, with the time restraints, that parental participation would be needed, if I ever hoped to make it out of here before bedtime. So without much deliberation, my son chose to do a wolf and of course would need mostly grays and whites. It became apparent to all the parents that we would be the one digging out colors, that is, if we didn’t want to spend the night to finish this project. While an overnight in the library has its appeal, those bean bag chairs in the corner looked suspiciously like some place I would not like to lay my head.

So, I sorted through hot pink, clear and royal blue beads to hand-pick the desired hues. It was a full-time, absorbing job that had me glancing longingly at my computer. But I resigned myself to my task as his beaded Minecraft wolf began to take shape before my eyes, along side the other creations of butterflies and puppies. As moms asked their kids what colors they needed next and grey, white or pink was called out, something interesting began to happen. One little girl delivered a handful of black beads that she had sorted out for a boy at her table. I thought, well, that was sweet and carried on plucking out our needed colors. Soon another girl delivered a small cache of white to someone else at our table. We all looked up and acknowledged her thoughtfulness.

Next, an adorable little girl delivered an offering of gray to my son. He was thrilled and touched by her kindness. Such a little thing I thought, but it seemed to ignite something at our table. My son asked the dark-haired girl across from him what color she needed and started searching for her orange beads. My rational mind thought . . . well, what’s the point? If we all look for our own colors it would be just as effective. But that’s not the point, is it? While these kids showed up to make Perler bead creations, they were actually participating in a big life lesson. Kindness was being passed out in tiny beads. It was catching!! Most of the kids at our table were actively looking for colors for other children, eager to show a complete stranger that they cared enough to help. They did not know each other’s names or backgrounds; they had no idea if that child had a good day or a bad day, they were not doing it to win favor or get a prize. They were simply being kind.

Our lives are so busy and harried we often don’t take time to show each other kindness. We are always on to the next things, running late, forgetting something, needing to make a phone call or send an email. I think if I just keep my head down and keep typing and posting and emailing, I just might be able to get my work done. I plan my days so tight there is no breathing room for say, a break-down (I usually have those in the car or the shower) or to lose my phone, panic and then realize I’m talking on it (you guys do that, too, right?). I often go to bed the night before already overwhelmed by the day to come. Meetings follow meetings, I dive through the grocery store on the way to something else and vacuum just the parts that show (please don’t look behind my couch or under it!).

I tend to work in coffee shops (big perk of freelance) but one issue is running into people I know when I’m under a deadline. We will say Hi and I try to show through the frantic look in my eyes, that I have just this little window of time to get my work done. I must be doing something wrong because this seems to invite them to sit down at my table and tell me what is going on in their lives. While I feel like I don’t have time for this, I am also quite certain this exactly what I am supposed to be doing. You see, I pray in the morning that the Lord will use me to encourage others, help others and be someone that can show God’s love in a tangible human (although, flawed) way. And then, I promptly act put out when He actually does. People—why are we so ridiculous?

We can all stay in our own lanes, getting our work done, finding our own beads. But is that the point? Maybe part of this time here on earth is helping others find their beads and letting them help us find ours. Not one of those kids was worried about getting their own project done. They were not hurried or stressed. Remember those days? No? Me either. Yes, I need to post for work, and make that phone call and write that piece and there is a time for that, but there is also a time for kindness. There is time to listen and time to do someone a favor and time to pray, and you know what, I never regret it. There will always be another thing in my work inbox and more dishes to wash and somehow we are always out of essential staples, like bread or butter or dark chocolate. But I want to look back and say, I took time to show kindness to the people God has put in my life and the stranger he often sits next to me at a coffee shop.

Although kindness doesn’t cost money, it often costs time. My husband says time is money (when I want him to cut the lawn or wash the windows), but time does not seem to cost as much when there is a baseball game - hmmm? So, there is a cost. When I take a phone call at an inconvenient time because someone needs to vent or when I linger over coffee with a downhearted friend because they need a soft place to cry, I never think . . . well, that was a waste of time. No, I think that it is what I was supposed to be doing. But now, when will I edit that copy I wrote for a client? The time it takes to show kindness is not free, but I count the cost and find it worth every penny! And you know what? Others do the same for me—they listen, they bring meals, they encourage, they let me cry and they give me rides. I don’t usually stop to think that this cost them something; they started dinner late or didn’t make it to the store or lost a precious time to read before bed, but they counted the cost and found it worth their time.

If life is an exchange of colored beads, I want to know what color you need.

Write about an instance where you made time to be kind. What did it cost you? Was it worth it?

Journal about how you can make a change in your day and outlook that will make more time for kindness.