Finding a house in the area we currently live was a challenge. When we set out to move a few years ago, it was one of the first major steps out in faith that we took as a married couple, to trust that God could do big things that seemed improbable, even in something as everyday and seemingly worldly as finding a house for us. We trusted Him, and enlisted many of our Christian friends to pray for us, and I can't explain it--God just made a way for us, as our offer was much lower than what the seller's could have gotten, and the timing just was on point, and the house was literally everything we needed. It was a pivotal point for us in our faith journey, and I am continually going back in gratefulness to the way God provided for us in our time of need then, figuring, "if He can do it then, He can do it again" with the next big challenge we encounter.
We moved from a rowhouse in the city to a house situated on half an acre, and while it can be a pain to mow the lawn sometimes, we are not right on top of our neighbors, and we maintain a good deal of privacy and eat breakfast watching deer meander through the vegetable garden in the backyard. I realize this can be a luxury in the suburbs, though for many in the country and rural areas its a way of life. Where we live, land is expensive, and is usually slated for development if it is not preserved. The area has been 'booming' since the late 1990's, and what was once farmland is now prime real estate and bustling shopping centers. Every scrap of available land is being bought up and built on. This has benefits as well as downsides, and townships have to make zoning decisions that balance economic growth with the potential danger of over-commercialization.
In our family, we also have to periodically go through a kind of balancing assessment of how we are spending our time and treasure, what to develop on and what to lay fallow. Both my wife and I are introverts (though I think my wife would say I am more of an 'ambivert') and when things get too crazy and schedules get too jam-packed, our inner batteries get drained quickly. The way we 'recharge' is to have downtime and unstructured swatches of space and time; ie, "white space."
Musicians know that the space and tempo between notes is just as important as the notes themselves. Artists need to make use of negative space to contrast and accentuate the form and color that is on the canvas. Writers need to make the words on the page count, and not use too much filler. The comedian and rhetorician knows that timed pauses and strategic silences are just as important as the punchlines themselves. And every saint has found that 'time away' in private prayer, akin to Jesus' retreat to 'lonely places' to commune with his Father, is indispensable to counter-balance active ministry. White space--the space between--has value in and of itself. It's lack of defined substance is, by its very nature, where its value lies.
Open land, in the eyes of developers, is seen through opportunistic eyes--it's just wasted space that could be built on and made 'useful.' We can approach our every day lives in the same way. Unscheduled, unaccounted for time in the week could be 'better spent' catching up on yardwork or going to the movies or an amusement park, or doing something to fill the time. For extroverted people, this just comes naturally. For introverts like us, though, we struggle with the lack of white space when our lives get tilted too much towards the over-active. And, to be honest, we've been going full-tilt, both of us working full time, at a pace that for us, just does not seem sustainable over the long haul.
Thank God for the Sabbath. This day--this gift from God, made for man (Mk 2:27)--that we have set aside for worship, rest, and 'white space' is an oasis in our week. We started getting more intentional about it a few years ago,--that is, not working (at our jobs, not checking email, not doing yard work, etc) and treating Sunday like an overflow day to get things done that weren't accomplished during the week--and it's been a monumental change that puts everything else in its proper place. It sometimes makes Saturdays a little crazier, as we're trying to get everything done by evening in preparation for the next day's Sabbath.
Silence in prayer--that is, simply, "listening"--can feel like this kind of non-productive, non-active, fallow kind of land ripe for development. But it is here where God speaks to our hearts. Resist the temptation to build your spiritual life on every available scrap of time that allows no open space for simple communing with the Lord in precious "wasted moments." White space in prayer--silence, receptive listening, contemplation, simple gratitude and restful adoration--is just as important as our acts of service, our works of mercy, our recitations, and our work.
Please pray for our family as we trust the Lord once again in some pretty big changes and decisions with work and schooling, so that we can get things prioritized in an order that works for our family and honors God in the process. Every family has to find that balance for themselves. Just don't overlook the inherent value of the space between.
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