Let me tell you about Kassiah Jones

ants-1169349_960_720a

This month my husband and I took our kids to the local home school co-op’s spring performance. Some of our friends were in the play. It was called “The Race” and was an original play based loosely on the story of “The Tortoise and the Hare.”

Every character in this play was modeled after an animal. There was a bear and a sparrow and a fennec fox (among others), but the character that most captured my attention was the character modeled after the ant. Her name was Kassiah Jones, and she never knew when to quit.

When it was time for the village inhabitants to prepare for the annual race, Kassiah trained harder than all the rest. She worked hard and never knew when to stop.

On race day Kassiah was in the lead, far ahead of the others, for the first three laps. But on the fourth lap she didn’t come back around the curtain with the rest of the runners. At the end of the race, after somebody else had won, the villagers went in search of her. They found her, collapsed from exhaustion, and had to carry her out on a stretcher.

I so identified with Kassiah Jones. I work, work, work, and never take a break. I know I need to. But I forget.

The week I attended “The Race” was, to be honest, brutal. We’d gone three days without refrigeration and had lost the entire contents of our fridge to Cambodia’s hot season. We’d gone a couple days with a puking child and half a night’s power outage with said puking child. I got to the end of that week completely exhausted and out of sorts.

So that Friday I took the first of what I’m now calling a “Kassiah Jones Day.” I canceled home school. I played games with my kids. We watched sciences videos in the air conditioning. I read more than usual to them. I’m with them all the time, but I don’t always share enjoyable activities with them. Instead I focus on finishing our lessons, and then in my “free time,” I work.

But I now have a vocabulary for what my soul needs and for the way I’d been treating it. I have a symbol, a simple phrase that encompasses a world of meaning for me. It’s true I forget to Sabbath. It’s true I forget to breathe. It’s true that all too often, I am Kassiah Jones.

But I think that needs to start changing, and I think I know just how to try.

~~In honor of Kassiah Jones, I’m keeping this blog post short.~~

~~When was the last time you took a Kassiah Jones Day?~~

Rest. To Love.

photo-1441943250180-ea34e997ffad2

I’m trying to practice what I preach. I’m trying to remember my own advice. Oh, and I’m trying to transition back to life in Cambodia after a few months in the States.

So yeah, let me remind myself (and you too, if you’re still reading): Rest. To Love.

You want to love people well? You want to love your God well? Then rest. Sabbath.

You want to disciple people well? You want to model what it means to follow Jesus in a foreign land? Then stop for a bit. Breathe. Quit planning and straining for a second and enjoy Him. Enjoy His word. Enjoy His Church. Slowly.

I’m not writing a new article this month. I’m remembering old ones. I hope you’ll remember too.

I hope the first two articles quoted and linked below will help you remember two things: margin’s important, and running can be dangerous.

I hope the second two articles will remind you that God doesn’t always lead in a straight line, and that even at night, there are stars.

May your 2016 be full of the Father, with deep awareness of His presence and His plans. May Jesus stir deep inside of you a longing for the restoration of all things and the coming of the Kingdom, and may you remember, day by day, the last promise of Jesus: “Yes, I am coming soon!”

Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.

 

all for ONE,
Jonathan M. Trotter

 

From the article, margin: the wasted space we desperately need:

Margin is wasted space that we desperately need. It’s space that’s not accounted for and produces no obvious, easily quantifiable profit. However, margin is extremely important, creating a zone of safety, giving you time and space and emotional capital to react safely when something unexpected happens.

Often, we make margin a liability: “You’re not busy?! What in the world are you doing?! Think of all the needs!” I used to believe this was primarily an issue for those of us from the West; however, I’m realizing that this is very much an issue for many of our brothers and sisters from the East too. The truth is, we all need to devote some serious attention to how we deal with margin, because the costs of living margin-less are extremely high.

88fee386c8f42073db1ac864388259b0

 

From the article, Please Stop Running:

Jesus perfectly balanced exterior, people-focused ministry with deep Rest. Jesus rested in the peace and security and love and acceptance of his Father, and then turned around and loved people like crazy.

May we do the same. May our time with the Father, resting in his presence, drive us to love people. And after a time of loving and serving people, may we take our bone-weary souls back up the mountain to Rest with our Father.

Rest is not a bad word.

Rest is not a waste of time.

Rest is holy, and commanded.

Rest forces me to admit my humanity.

Rest reminds me to agree, once again, that He’s God and I’m not.

100_2585

 

From the article, When the Straight & Narrow Isn’t:

My parents had their life all mapped out, and then their baby was born with chromosomal abnormalities and died at home, surrounded by tubes and oxygen tanks, only a month old.

As a teenager, I had my life pretty well planned out (get my pilot’s license, be Nate Saint). But then my mom got cancer and died. And the path of God darkened.

The “plan of God for my life,” the path I was following with full confidence and youthful arrogance, disappeared. Because sometimes the straight and narrow isn’t.

God doesn’t always lead in straight lines.

He is the God of fractals, making beauty and order out of lines that look like a drunk man was drawing during an earthquake.

1a85775c494988ef34fc5ac2b7e2be40-d30m772a

 

From the article, Navigating the Night (3 things to do when you have no idea what to do):

I don’t like the dark. I never have. I like to know exactly where I’m going, when I’m going to get there, and how many McDonald’s there are along the way. But life doesn’t seem to work like that. So, when I find myself unsure and blind, I remember these three flashes of truth.

I might not know where I’ll be a year or ten from now, but I’m pretty sure I’ve got enough light for now. I can navigate the night when I remember these three burning callings: Adore Him, Love People, and Walk Boldly.

There’s not much to this, really, but when you’re walking in the dark, a little light goes a long ways.

ntn2

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What articles meant a lot to you in 2015 (from A Life Overseas or otherwise)?
Feel free to share the links in the comment section below.

margin: the wasted space we desperately need

margin1

“Staying alive is not about how fast or how slow you go; it’s about how much margin you have.”

That’s what a friend of mine here in Cambodia says when asked about how to not die while riding motorcycles in our little corner of Asia. And since he’s been riding and racing motorcycles since before I was born, I listen.

Going slow with no margin can be more dangerous than going fast with tons of margin. It’s true with motorcycles and it’s true with missions.

Your speed is not necessarily what determines your safety; your margin does. Margin takes into account all sorts of variables: How far can you see? How much space is between you and the next vehicle (or cow)? What are the road conditions? Is this even a road? How likely is it that the large pig strapped to the back of that bus in front of you will stay strapped to the back of that bus in front of you?

 

Margin & Missionaries
Some of us overseas folk like to move quickly, flying through life and ministry at the speed of FAST. Others prefer to plod, smelling the frangipani and lingering long.

And it’s easy to judge.

The plodders judge the quicksters; “Oh, they’re definitely going to crash. They need to slow down or they’re going to burn out.” And maybe that’s true. But maybe they’ve built in Rest and Sabbath and Margin and maybe they’ll be just fine.

The quickies judge the plodders; “Good grief! They don’t do anything! When are they going to actually get off their bahookies and get to work?!” And maybe that’s true. Maybe they are lazy. Or, maybe they’ve built in Rest and Sabbath and Margin and maybe they’ll still be around decades after the FAST people fizzle out.

I’ve often thought the plodders were inherently healthier, but I realize now that if they lack margin, their speed is irrelevant and their risk of crashing (burning out) remains high. Remember, it’s not about speed as much as it’s about margin.

So, whether your preferred speed is Warp or Waddle, we need to talk about margin. How much do you have?

How much relational margin?

Emotional margin?

Financial margin?

Margin is wasted space that we desperately need. It’s space that’s not accounted for and produces no obvious, easily quantifiable profit. However, margin is extremely important, creating a zone of safety, giving you time and space and emotional capital to react safely when something unexpected (on the road or in ministry) happens.

Often, we make margin a liability: “You’re not busy?! What in the world are you doing?! Think of all the needs!” I used to believe this was primarily an issue for those of us from the West; however, I’m realizing that this is very much an issue for many of our brothers and sisters from the East too. The truth is, we all need to devote some serious attention to how we deal with margin, because the costs of living margin-less are extremely high.

 

Airlines and the Bourgeois
Many of us absolutely hate the idea of waste. In fact, the title of this article might have been an extreme turn-off for you. I’m sorry about that. I feel ya, really. Here me out just a little bit longer, because with our strong aversion to wasted space, I believe we’re kind of like airlines.Reclining-Seats-1

Airlines can’t stand wasted space, and we all know what that feels like. Remember the last time you crossed an ocean in sardine class? It’s like living without margin: you can do it for a bit, but after a while, things start to hurt that aren’t supposed to hurt, and your mind begins to drift to thoughts of revolution and a bourgeois uprising against the folks sprawled out behind the curtain.

Margin, like leg room, seems unnecessary at first; but then you live without it for a while, things stiffen up, and you realize just how necessary that wasted space really is.

 

Wasting Trees and Asphalt
Do you have any idea how much paper we waste with margins? Neither do I, but I think it’s a lot. Think of all the trees we could save if our magazines and books and newsletters were printed from the very top of the page to the very bottom and the words bled out onto the edges.

People might lose their minds, but hey, at least we wouldn’t be wasting space!

Even my Kindle has a margin. Why is that? Would you read a book or a website that had words all the way to the edges of the screen? Probably not. You’d probably have some sort of visceral turn-that-thing-off reaction. I know I would. Would you live a life all the way to the edges, without margin? Many try.

Interstate_94_&_U.S._23_interchange

In the United States, the average interstate highway has 14ft (4.3m) of wasted pavement. You can’t drive on the shoulder. It’s just there, wasting space and asphalt. It’s road margin.

US interstates have enough wasted space to pave a road 14ft wide around the entire planet. Twice. That’s a lot of wasted pavement.

Many of us live in countries where the main roads aren’t even 14ft wide! So why do they do that? Why do they waste so much money on so much asphalt that’s not even part of the road? To save lives, I guess. Because road margin is a great idea.

 

Why We Need Wasted Space
I need wasted space. My family needs wasted space. My relationship with God needs wasted space. And I need to realize that, in reality, some of the best moments of my life happen in the wasted spaces.

The stuff I remember on my deathbed will probably be the stuff that happened in the margins: The dance I shared with my little girls in a hillside bungalow while the ocean extinguished the sun. The man-talk with my brother about deep stuff that happened in a tree house in a field, doing “nothing.” The unrushed joy of losing a game of Stratego to a small child. Sipping coffee with my soul-mate, pretending to be tourists in our own town, listening to each other’s hearts.

The moment shared with God, unhurried, among trees and grass and falling water. The silent listening.

The moment of sitting still, letting one Word or phrase from Him sink deep, and heal. And comfort. For me, those moments are Life, and they almost always happen in the margin.

 

When Margin Isn’t
Now, if you’re straight up lazy, this post is not for you. Don’t use this as an excuse to continue being lazy. A blank page doesn’t have a margin; it’s just a blank page.

Margin indicates activity, not the absence of it. And it’s not called rest if it’s all you do.The dowager countess, Lady Grantham, perfectly illustrates this with her pointed question:

88fee386c8f42073db1ac864388259b0

Sabbath only occurs after work. Sabbath is God’s margin. It’s God’s wasted space, if you will, that of course isn’t wasteful at all. It’s restorative. And protective. Are you keeping Sabbath? Why not? 

 

The Great Destroyer of Margin
What destroys your margin?

Distractions, that crowd out the voice of Jesus?

Smartphones, with all the apps you never knew you needed to stay tethered to the world you never knew existed?

News, that’ll keep you discouraged or angry or depressed every hour of the 24 hour news cycle?

Blogs, with never-ending comparisons and measurements and opinions?

Personal insecurity that won’t allow you to rest, for fear that you won’t accomplish something, and you not accomplishing something will cause others to judge you, and others judging you will actually make you less valuable? Or more vulnerable?

Take note of the destroyers.

For a season, I deleted the Facebook and Twitter apps from my phone. It was a great decision that allowed me to reset and rediscover some margin that I had pretty much lost.

What could you do today to reclaim some margin?

Rein in Netflix?

Learn to say “No.”

Banish the TV or internet from the bedroom?

See a counselor?

 

Conclusion
Margin is the wasted space we desperately need. So, spend some time in the margins.

Waste time with your friends, your spouse, your kids.
Waste time with your God, just being with Him.
No agenda. No checkbox.
Just love and relationship and coffee.

If you have a strong reaction to the idea of “wasting time,” ask yourself “Why?”
Remember, being busy all the time could be avoidance. Avoiding Sabbath could be idolatry.

Close the computer, delete the apps.
Dance with your daughter and remember:

Life is a breath,
Breathe deep and slow, and
Savor the moments in the margins.

The glorious unpressured time of not-work.
Remember, Jesus slept.

God remains on His throne, after all.
He was capable before you showed up, and
He’ll remain imminently capable after you’re gone.

So work hard and rest well.
And remember, wasting time just might be the most productive thing you ever do.

 ———————————————-

More Resources:
Margin: Restoring Emotional, Physical, Financial, and Time Reserves to Overloaded Lives, by Dr. Richard Swenson