17 Sep The Space Between

His crime was a common one among young siblings. He had called his sister a name. His consequence was writing sentences. For my newly-minted six year old, writing “I will not call my sister __________” ten times seemed as insurmountable as climbing Mount Everest.

A predictable series of emotions followed my declaration of consequence. First, shock and disbelief. Then utter despair and sobbing. After pleading for a reprieve to no avail, his final emotion surfaced – defeat and involuntary commitment to the task.

He worked silently at the kitchen table while I prepared dinner. After he had finished one sentence, he asked me to examine his work. “Well, this is good so far,” I encouraged. “You are copying the words correctly but you aren’t providing proper spacing between the words. Put your finger after each word and give that amount of space between each word so that it can be read clearly.”

Slowly but surely, his sentences went from “Iwillnotcallmysister…” to “I will not call my sister…..”

The Gift of Margin

The following day I sat on my back porch, admiring my neighbors’ thriving garden while praying over competing priorities our family faces. Many good activities and opportunities have opened up to us as the world has opened up but we still only have 24 hours in a day and seven days in a week.

As the manager of our family’s social calendar, I feel a sense of responsibility weighing on me to both protect our family from burnout and also engage where God is truly calling us. My mind drifted back to Joseph’s wobbly letters and the difference a little space can make in the meaning-making of words into sentences, and the meaning-making of single events into a life.

Just as Joseph had to realize that the space between his words was as important as the words themselves, so I felt the Lord nudging me to consider that the space between work, activities, and events is just as vital as the work itself.

All summer long I have practically lived at our community pool. And all summer long I have watched my three daughters swim on our neighborhood swim team. One particular stroke, the breaststroke, is the hardest for the younger kids because it requires a lot of precise technique. Kids get “DQ’ed” (disqualified) each meet for everything from incorrect kicking to not touching the wall with both hands. Of course speed is important in racing, but without proper breaststroke technique, speed is useless. Yet, when it is done correctly, the beautiful cadence of work-breathe-work-breathe makes the breaststroke like a living piece of art, providing me with another parallel to a balanced life.

Jesus often withdrew to lonely places to pray. In a world of constant digital engagement and a nation addicted to busyness (or the idea of busyness), what would it take for us in the midst of our full lives to regularly turn towards lonely places to pray?

And what if we realized that the time spent breathing and making space for God is the exact thing we need to bring depth and focus to our words and work?

In the space between, we are given room to unwind and decompress, to reflect and recalibrate. And perhaps most importantly, we are given the necessary opportunity to take our hands off our work and remember who gave us this work to do in the first place, asking for Him to do what only He can do: “Establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, establish the work of our hands!” (Psalm 90:17).