Remembering to Rest

I remembered to rest today. Over Thanksgiving break I realized that I couldn't remember the last time I really rested. There is a never ending list of things to do and my attention gets pulled in a myriad of directions. I just keep going and going, collapsing at night with the list of things I didn't accomplish before I ran out of steam running through my head, only to wake up and do it again the next day. The rhythms of work and rest I inhabited last year have been lost in the sea of green, the ordinary weeks that make up my summers of freedom. When the school year began this year, my rhythms of work resumed, but the rest did not, and this realization crashed down upon me as I crashed under the weight of the head cold my husband shared with me. I didn't have time to be sick over my break! But if not on my break, when? I don't ever have time to be sick, because I don't ever have time. My weeks have become chapters of marginless pages, filled to the edges with things, good things, but things; not space. I find myself living without margin and needing to remember to rest.

So today, I remembered to rest. I went home, pulled out a new book, and read and prayed and rested. And as I did, the memory of margin welled up inside with the following (first draft of a) poem:

I FIND PEACE

In the margins
I take note
I speak with the author 
About what He wrote 
The margin gives space
For breath and for pause
For questions to ponder
About the next clause
A margin’s blank face
Is a spot of release
Is a break from relentless 
Words that don’t cease
Some margins are empty
None, though, are unfilled 
None are unneeded
Though thoughts may be stilled
Some margins are full of
Dear thoughts that are mine
Dear words of others
That return me to Thine
All margins provide a
Place for reflection
Place for the quiet, 
For thoughtful collection
Even the smallest of margins
Evokes small moments of rest
Evokes deeper connection
At the Author’s behest
Average margins are oft overlooked 
And provide space for living
And frames for each story
Of taking and giving
Wide margins reveal
Choices well made
Choices that keep our hearts
Tuned and well played 
In the margin, I find peace
Even among the words I am reading
Even amidst the life I am leading
The margin provides space for my heart to keep beating.