The following post is not my words, but a copy of an article I read in Torch magazine, an output of Cedarville University in Cedarville, OH. You can subscribe to Torch for free online at http://www.cedarville.edu/torch. This magazine changed my outlook on God’s sovereignty in regard to my illusory control, as well as the peace from which the only genuine love can flow. I hope that this article helps you to consider being a man or woman of peace as well.
Living Inside the Margin
by Richard Swenson, M.D.
We are a better advertisement for the things of God when we are doing less, not more.
Dr. Richard Swenson was the featured speaker at the 2001 Staley Distinguished Christian Scholar Lecture Program at Cedarville University. The following is taken from his lecture series, titled “An Infinite Creator and His Finite Creation.” Listen to the full series at cedarville.edu/torch/resources.
The average office worker is interrupted 202 times a day. The average desk worker has 36 hours of work piled on his or her desk and spends three hours a week shuffling piles trying to find the right project to work on next. We spend one year of our lives searching through the clutter looking for misplaced objects. The average misplaced object travels 10 inches. More than 60 million Americans have sleep disorder problems — 27 percent of Americans fell asleep while driving last year. One-third of Americans say they are “rushed” all the time.
In the 1960s, the futurists said by now you would have one wage earner in the family working 20 hours a week because progress and technology would lead to increased productivity. They predicted productivity would increase, wages would increase, and we’d all be bored. That is not what happened. Instead, the average husband and wife unit is working 90 hours, not 20. The prediction only missed by 350 percent.
This is largely the result of progress. Progress is the notion that life automatically improves. We should work to make life better. But progress works largely by differentiation and always leads to more of everything — faster and faster. Progress cannot lead to less and slower. This is what the futurists forgot to factor in.
Crossing the Line
I like more. That’s the definition of American happiness: more than I have now. There’s no real problem with progress, differentiation, or more. My problem is that I have only a 24-hour day. Progress has to continue differentiating. It cannot afford to care that I have limits. If it stopped, our economy would fall apart. Meanwhile, progress is propelling me right into my limits.
The fact that I have limits is not a threat to God. He does a good job running the universe without my help. That line for human limits is drawn differently for each person — some people are 10 times more productive than I am — but once you cross that line, bad things predictably happen to your life, including your spiritual life.
Someone asked author Henry Blackaby how he accomplished all he did in his life. He said, “I spent my life hurrying God. I was running around doing all these things, and somehow God had to fit into it all. And then God said, ‘Henry, you’re not going to hurry Me anymore. You are going to have to fit into My schedule.’ ” Blackaby said it changed everything.
We’re all running, but God’s not running after us. He knows that speed does not yield devotion. The presence of God is in inverse proportion to the pace of our lives — meditation, wisdom, and worship are slow, mellow, and deep.
If your theology is to do all you can for God, although that sounds praiseworthy, you will always fail. Wherever you end the day is arbitrary. There is always something more you could do. Even if it’s 3 a.m., you could pray a little more. You could write a letter of encouragement to somebody. You and I could probably go downtown to a bar; there’s probably some despairing soul sitting there we could witness to. If we feel we have to pay God back, we will fail in our own theology every single day. Fortunately for us, God breaks into our work and says, “OK, good job. Now it’s time to sleep. Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on the universe.”
Finding the Limit
Short-term overload is not the enemy. It happens to everyone at some point — tax time or final exams. Chronic overload drains your spiritual reserves. It is an enemy of prayer, worship, meditation, loving one another, and service. We either stop doing those things or, worse, we simply go through the motions. Consider these three scenarios:
Life at at 80 percent: Your colleague approaches you and says, “Can you take my shift this weekend? We’ve got a family crisis. My sister is having surgery; I think it’s cancer.” You say, “Sure, I can take your shift. I’ve got some margin in my life. I like you, and I hope your sister’s OK.”
Then the town soccer league calls: “The fourth-grade coach has broken her leg. Could you coach the kids for two or three months?” You say, “Great, thanks for asking me. I need some exercise. I like the kids, and I’m glad to help.”
Your spouse, if you happen to be married, says, “Let’s take the neighbors out to dinner Friday night. They’ve lived next to us for two years, and we don’t even know what they look like.” You say, “Let’s do it.”
Life at 100 percent: Your colleague says, “Can you take my shift this weekend?” You say, “Well, I’d like to, but I don’t know if I can. I’ll let you know tomorrow … Well, I’ll tell you what, I don’t know how I’ll do it, but I’ll do it. But just this once, OK?” You walk away thinking, “What’s happening to me? I always wanted to help people, but I don’t even care about this person anymore.”
And they call from the soccer league. “Could you coach the fourth-grade team?” You say, “I’d love to, but I can’t right now. Call me down the road, when life gets better.”
Your spouse says, “How about taking the neighbors out to dinner on Friday night?” You say, “Let’s do it in July. Maybe we can fit it in then. We can’t do it this week.”
Life at 120 percent: Your colleague asks, “Can you take my shift this weekend?” You say, “Stop right there. I quit. I’m sick and tired of everyone dumping their load and expecting me to bail them out at the last minute. I’ve had it. I’m out of here.”
They call from the soccer league. “Could you coach the fourth-grade kids?” You say, “I hate kids! And you’re an idiot! Who gave you my number, anyway? Don’t ever call me again.”
And your spouse says, “How about taking the neighbors out to dinner on Friday night?” You say, “You can do whatever you want. I’ll tell you what I’m doing. I’m coming home at 5:30 p.m. and closing the door. And locking it. With a deadbolt. I’m turning off the light and closing the curtains. I’m pushing the refrigerator and television next to the bed, and I’m not coming out until Monday morning.”
What changed in these scenarios? What was being asked of you was precisely the same. In which scenario were you a better advertisement for the things of God?
Creating Space
Can you see the practical implications for a life of service, connection with God, or any kind of devotional response of the heart? We need some margin, the space between our load and our limits. Margin is our reserves, the place where we rest, recharge our batteries, recover our passion, renew our relationships — where we are still and know that He is God.
The focus of Christ’s ministry was always the person standing in front of Him. The person standing in front of me is an obstacle I’m trying to get over, under, around, or through because I’m late for whatever is down the road. Jesus did not cure every case of leprosy in Israel. If you could just look at it or touch it and heal it, wouldn’t you hold clinic until 3 a.m. every morning? Wouldn’t you give the disciples only an hour of sleep and keep running from village to village? He didn’t do that; He knew there would be more leprosy tomorrow. How completely contrary that is to my whole mentality.
In the spiritual life, discipline means that somewhere in your life you are not occupied, or preoccupied. It means creating space in which something can happen that you hadn’t planned or counted on. God asks us to walk the second mile, carry another’s burden, witness to the truth at any opportunity, and teach our children as we sit, walk, lie down, and stand — these responses presuppose that we have margin to make available for His purposes.
Are we really willing to let God control our agendas? Let’s make our plans and arrange our schedules humbly, lightly — realizing that God Almighty has the right to redirect us at a moment’s notice.
Dr. Richard Swenson is a physician-futurist, author, and educator. He received his B.S. in physics from Denison University and his M.D. from the University of Illinois School of Medicine. His best-selling books include Margin, The Overload Syndrome, and In Search of Balance. Learn more at RichardSwenson.com.
Citation: Swenson, Richard, M.D. “Living Inside the Margin.” Torch. Spring-Summer 2011: 4-7. Print.
