Securing a Margin

The first thing I set out to accomplish when I arrive in my office each day is to I try to read an essay by F.W. Boreham.  Something about his writing stirs my imagination and prepares my mind for the day.  This past week I have been reading what Boreham has written on leisure and the importance of rest.  So often our lives become complex to the point of craziness and we long for simplicity.  These thoughts led me this morning to Galatians 3 where Paul wrote, “You foolish Galatians, who has bewitched you?  Having begun in the spirit, are you now going to continue in the flesh?”  We so often forget the majestic simplicities of the gospel, and involve our tired brains and hungry hearts in tortuous systems that lead us a long, long way from home.

“A man’s life is like a garden,” wrote Boreham, “There is a limit to the things it will grow.  You cannot pack plants in a garden as you pack sardines in a tin . . . it is too much.  There must be a thinning out.”  He then goes on to explain that in the process of thinning out our gardens we need to be careful not to sacrifice all the pansies and keep all the potatoes.

What is needed in life is a margin.  Imagine trying to read a book that is printed to the edge of every page.  There would be no place for your thumb!  It is the margin that makes all the difference.  If my work occupies every working moment of my time, whether it is in action or thought, I am a slave to it.  My wife needs to know when I am at home in the evening that my job does not get my best, but that she gets my best.  A good husband, like a good book, needs to secure a margin.  There are very few things more repelling then the feeling that a man has no time for you.  It may be a good book, but if it does not contain margins, then I will never enjoy it.  A man may be an excellent person, but if he lacks leisure, restfulness, and poise, I will never feel at ease around him.

It is a fact that the most winsome people in the world are those that make you feel that they are never in a hurry.  G.K. Chesterton in his Father Brown mystery series writes of a hurried woman who upon passing Father Brown and his friend smiled at them and went sweeping into the house.  “That woman’s over-driven,” said Father Brown; “that’s the kind of woman that does her duty for twenty years and then does something dreadful.”  One of the greatest hindrances to developing relationships is busyness.  In reading Omnivore’s Dilemma I discovered that “17% of meals are eaten in cars.”

When I am losing control of my life and it gets tangled and twisted, and I want an older person to help me, I will be too timid to approach the man who is always in a rush.  I instinctively feel that he is far too busy to care about my troubles.  He is the type of person who tears through life like a tornado.  A feverish countenance is stamped upon his face and you’d think he would die if he stood still.  He seems to be constantly glancing at his watch or pulling out his phone, and is always muttering something about his next appointment.  He completes a remarkable amount of tasks throughout his day and his work ethic is something to marvel at.  But he would be much better off in the long run if he secured a margin.  He makes everyone around him, especially his family, feel as if he is far too busy for them.

Take for example a shrinking young girl who comes to the pastor because she is perplexed about her relationships with guys.  Her self image is at an all-time low and she feels sure, from hearing some of the things he has taught, that he could help her.  But she remembers that in his office he keeps a sign that reads, “Carpe Diem!” which reminds her that his time is precious.  She fears that, before she has gotten through half of her aching story his head will be nodding faster and faster as he seeks to conclude the conversation.  Busyness creeps up on us so quickly and it is very easy to go too fast.  For all that we accomplish, we may be losing life’s best.

Practically speaking, the ones closest to us love when we have a margin.  The rush and throb and tear of life has no business robbing me of my restfulness.  I must keep a quiet heart.  I must guard my margins.  I must find time to run a wood path, to play soccer, to camp in the mountains.  I must cultivate the friendship of parks and books and animals.  I must sit in front of the fire and laugh with my friends.

These have been a few thoughts that have been written on my mind since reading Boreham this past week.  I’ll finish with this quote:  “There are many things in a man’s life that he can give up, just as there are many things in a book that can be skipped, but the last thing to go must be the margin.”