I remember from elementary school, the teachers saying,
“Do not write in the margin. Leave space.”
This ends my week of rest from social networking and blogging. It’s the beginning of a new week. I am ready for it. The last eight days, from Sunday to Sunday, I decided to let go of something I could; Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and my blog. I chose to give my life space, on purpose, pre-planned, for an allotted time. It took a bit of faith and discipline, and I missed my online community, but I’ve ended the week heart-full.
Although, my week was still filled with dirty dishes and loads of laundry, waterworks and water spilled, homeschool lessons and life lessons. The difference was I gave myself margin.
Margin is the gap between rest and exhaustion, the space between breathing freely and suffocating… Margin grants freedom and permits rest. It nourishes both relationship and service. Spiritually, it allows availability for the purpose of God.
–Richard A. Swenson MD, Author of Margin
Those reasons above, are good enough for me to say, we all need margin.
This week of rest, I breathed in deep and exhaled long.
I read words slow, and let them nourish my weary soul.
I cried out to God and worshipped and praised.
I did not hurry.
My soul poured out through pointed lead on tear stained pages.
Getting caught in a surprise downpour,
I hid in the barn with Pre-teen Beauty dripping wet
and could-not-catch-my-breath laughed long.
I sat with toddler and did and undid princess puzzles.
I organized, scheduled and crossed much off of my to-do list.
But, I went slow — so very slow.
And come Sunday morning, when I was not quite sure I heard from God what He wanted me to hear, quietly He spoke to my heart,
“With voices quiet you are able to hear your own.
The one that I gave you. Use it, because it’s like no one else’s.”
Do you know what it feels like to be established? I am learning. Do you know what it is like to be comfortable with who God created you to be — like no one else? Do you know how restful it is to be at peace with only His approval? I am beginning to more and more, and finding quiet confidence. He reminds me,
“This life I gave you is no one else’s to live.
Only you get to live it. Neither do you get to live anyone else’s.”
There is so much noise and so many voices. Some full of incredible wisdom and life-giving truth. Some, not so much. How do we discern, in the constant flow of the streams, updates and feeds, which ones are for us? I have to ask, does the voice bring me closer to the purpose of God for my life or further away?
You see, for the mama or the dad or the husband or the wife or the child or the teacher or the blogger or the pastor — I believe the greatest freedom of living is living as who we were created to be in God — as who He says we are. <— Tweetable, eh?
We learn from the Master Designer how He designed His masterpiece. He has it all written down in the Book. It is a great disservice to God, ourself, our family and even this world, to try to be anything else.
For we are God’s own handiwork, His workmanship, recreated in Christ Jesus, born anew that we may do those good works which God predestined, planned beforehand for us, taking paths which He prepared ahead of time, that we should walk in them.
Ephesians 2:10 AMP
Yes, this is what I am entering these few weeks ahead with — until my the next week of rest.
I pray that you are able to know and become established in your God-given purpose — greater and deeper — for His glory alone.
Counting Gifts above and below... #692-735
These words that lead my into my week of rest from Pam at Writing Apples of Gold. I printed them out just before my week began.
Passport arriving early in the mail.
Destinies and Kingdom purpose being revealed.
A new homeschool already full of new joys and loving-life experiences.
Pink and pretty, ready for a morning walk.
Rolling thunder and rain showers down pouring.
Mrs. Potato head looking a touch of crazy. I don’t feel so bad.
Breathing in deep and exhaling long.
New life-stories being written.
New car for Eldest Beauty.
Friends who remain.
Husband, who while away hunting texts, “I miss you like crazy.”
and who still takes out the trash.
For a God who is faithful to lead,
and patient to wait when we stumble in our own way.