Margin

Well, folks, I got 68,035 steps in this week, for a total of 333,514 since Memorial Day. Though it hasn’t always been easy to find the time, I’m glad to have made the investment.

And that’s what it is, isn’t it? An investment in myself. An investment in my well-being.

When we think of exercise as a chore or as something to resent, it’s easy to find reasons to avoid it. But when we begin to experience the benefits from it (like self-confidence, a good night’s sleep, and a healthy intestinal tract) we realize just how quickly this “investment” pays off.

You might say, “Well, I wish I could walk every day, but I just don’t have the time. My days are packed from sun-up to sun-down, and exercise is a luxury I just can’t afford.” I challenge you to think of this investment as the margin in your life that holds everything else together.

In his book, Margin: Restoring Emotional, Physical, Financial, and Time Reserves to Overloaded Lives, Richard Swenson, M.D. describes it like this:

“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.”

In other words, margin is a necessity in our lives. Without it, we become exhausted and overwhelmed; who can accomplish anything worthwhile in this state? A well-planned, well-timed margin actually gives us the energy and the mental capacity to manage the more stressful areas of our lives.

I spent most of my time in the Rosy Mound Natural Area this week. This place feeds me somehow. It’s the culmination of all of Michigan’s natural elements, hosting hills, woods and dunes in a 164-acre plot. Since the board planks are laid into the dunes themselves, each tread has its own unique depth, anywhere from 11 inches to five feet.

As you climb it, your muscles are in constant confusion. The payoff is worth it, though: a vast, unobstructed view of Lake Michigan.

The closer you draw to the water, the more the waves’ presence drowns out the noises in your head – the to-do lists, the voices that tell you that you will never achieve all that you have your heart set on. They are as dust, blown into the whitecaps before dissolving on the shore.

It is here that I meet God. I breathe in his scent. And when I exhale, I know I am safe and whole and that my life means something to Him, is ordained by Him, in His sovereign love. It is here that I rejoice in His goodness, that the very beauty around me brings tears to my eyes. It is here that I lay my burdens so that He may take them up and work them together for my good.

I imagine God smiles here, and I smile back.

Enjoy your day. Enjoy this blog.