Creating Margin When Life Overwhelms

Creating Margin When Life Overwhelms // by Leslie Ann Jones

Life has been busy lately. So. Busy.

Between teaching two Bible studies at church, helping plan the annual preschool fundraiser, battling strep throat in the house, washing (but not folding) the laundry, selling and delivering Girl Scout cookies, doing all. the. things. for Dr. Seuss' birthday week, sorting old clothes for consignment, acquiring new clothes in the appropriate sizes, and juggling soccer practice, softball practice, birthday parties, church, and school, all while keeping us fed and alive, I'm spent. 

There's just not much of me left to go around these days.

I'm telling you all of this so you'll know why things have been quiet around here lately. There's so much I want to share with you about what God is teaching me, but I simply haven't had time to sit down and let it all spill out.

There was a time when I would have run myself into the ground posting new content here each week while also trying to do everything else, but I've learned that I create my best work when there's a bit of margin in my life. I need time and space to breathe freely and listen closely before I can write words that convict and compel. I'm currently overwhelmed by life, and, at this moment in time, margin is hard to find. So, I've created some by giving myself permission to take a little blogging break. 

I think sometimes we women like to act like we have everything together, but behind the scenes we're falling apart. God forbid anyone find out that we're imperfect people. I don't want to be like that. I want you to know that I'm a real person with real struggles. My life isn't insta-perfect all the time—it's messy and rough around the edges and more than a little crazy.

I know I'm not alone in this. Nearly every mama I talk to struggles with The Overwhelm from time to time. It's normal and even necessary every now and then, but I think it's important to fight for the things that your soul needs. Even during busy seasons. For me, it's margin—empty space in my planner and quiet moments alone to simply be. No striving, no doing. Just me and God and a bit of stillness...and maybe a cup of coffee too.

What is it that your soul needs? What do you crave when life overwhelms? How do you create margin when things get crazy? I'd love to hear from you in the comments below.

And in case you were wondering, I'll be spending the time I usually spend writing preparing my heart and mind for teaching Known, an in-depth Bible study on the gospel of John to a group of local women.

Both the workbook and our weekly sessions are available online, and we would love for you to join us. You can access the Known workbook and weekly podcast at

Thanks for bearing with me during this busy season! Hopefully I'll be back to posting regularly again soon...just not yet.

Until next time, grace and peace.

Yet I Will Praise Him: Grief, Church, and God

Yet I Will Praise Him. Thoughts on grief, the church, and God. via

The past week has been a hard one in the life of our church.

Over the past several days, we watched and prayed as one of our youth faced insurmountable complications from a heart valve replacement surgery. We prayed for a miracle. We wept. We begged for healing. And we waited. 

As we gathered together to worship yesterday morning, we got the news that we didn't want to hear. We stood and sang songs of God's faithfulness with tears streaming down our faces, all the while grieving for the life that had been taken from us.

The ties that bind a church together are sometimes hard to see. Like any family, we have more than our fair share of squabbles, but the thing that I love about the church is the way we take care of our own when it counts. When one part of the body of Christ hurts, we all hurt. We all feel the pain. We all feel the loss.

Yesterday was hard. But it was so, so good to be together while we grieved. To kneel together at the altar and pray for peace and comfort. To stand together and proclaim God's goodness in the midst of heart-shattering grief. To bow together as the tears overflowed.

There's a long road ahead for Cole's family. The days will be long, and the nights longer, but I pray that God would use us, the people of their church, to walk beside them on the road to healing. This is what it means, I think, to bear one another's burdens.

The promise of the gospel is not that we would never know sorrow or pain but that we would never face it alone. The gospel promises that God is not only with us in our suffering, but also that he shelters us in the darkest parts of the storm. I'm convinced that he sometimes uses the church to do just that. It's one of the ordinary means through which God gives us extraordinary grace. 

To say that I'm close to the family would be a lie. I know some of them better than others, but I knew Cole only in passing. What I knew of him made me smile. He was a funny kid with a quick wit who wasn't afraid to use it. Although I don't know them well, I do know what it is to be a mom, and imagining the total devastation of losing a child took my breath away, drove me to my knees, and forced me to cry out on their behalf.

I wept yesterday, not just for the loss of such a bright light, but also because we live in a world where things like this happen. Jesus lived, died, and rose again so that death could no longer have victory over us. But sometimes, as we live and breathe in the space between his resurrection and the time when he will finally make all things new, that promise seems so very far away.

And yet, it's the promise to which we must hold on tight. Without it, we are lost.

The book of Job tells the story of a man who lost everything. In one crushing disaster after another, he goes from being the man who has it all to the man who has nothing left. Somehow, though, he manages to maintain hope. I want to have hope like that. Shane & Shane sing a beautiful song about it. I've included it here so you can listen.

The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord. Though he slays meyet I will hope in him. (Job 1:21 and 13:15, paraphrased).

Our hearts are broken today, but thanks be to God that brokenness doesn't get the final word. He does. And he has promised to bind up all our broken hearts, to mend the places that are torn, to wipe away every tear from every eye, and to make everything right in the end.

Today, and every day, until that day, I will praise him. What else can I do?

Until next time, grace and peace.

How Coffee Makes Me a Better Christian

On Coffee and Quiet Times. How preparing a cup of coffee each morning keeps my quiet times on track. (from Leslie Ann Jones)

When I discovered that the elementary school in our town starts at 7:30 a.m., I died a little on the inside. The early school day means that I have to rise before 6 a.m. to get our daughter up, dressed, fed, and ready by the time the bus comes by. 

Y'all. I just can't even describe how devastating this knowledge was to me. It's no secret that I'm not a morning person. Over the years, I've tried to get up "an hour earlier" than my kids, and I've failed every. single. time. I'm just not wired that way.

I immediately decided that if I had to get up before the sun, I needed a ritual—something to look forward to every morning. And I also needed some caffeine. In large doses. Which led me to the conclusion that I needed learn how to like coffee.

Dennis laughed at me and rolled his eyes when I told him my plan. He thought I was being a little ridiculous, but he supported my quest to find a brand of coffee that didn't make me gag (Lavazza, for the win, by the way), and he faithfully washes my little espresso maker when I leave it sitting in the sink. Because apparently I can't do regular coffee. Nope. That would be too easy. It's a homemade mocha latte for me every single morning.

Anyway. Back to the point. I knew that if I didn't have a tangible, physical reason to stay awake after the bus rolled away, I would make a beeline back to bed as soon as possible. But if I could manage to make the coffee before the bus came, then after it left, I would settle down in my chair with my coffee (usually in a Dwell mug), my Bible, and my journal to enjoy some quiet time alone with the Lord before I had to wake up the youngest for preschool.

I mean, I'm not going to waste the coffee. I just made it, for crying out loud. I'm 100 percent serious when I tell you that making a cup of coffee every morning has done more for my spiritual life than I ever imagined possible.

I feel a little silly telling you this because I'm a writer of Bible studies. I'm supposed to have this quiet time thing down by now. But the reality of my life as a stay-at-home mom sometimes runs me ragged, and the truth is that I like to sleep. A lot. And sometimes I want to sleep more than I want to spend time in the Word. The struggle is real. Am I right?

But y'all, here's the lesson I've been learning: Sometimes the spark we need to get us going is as simple as a cup of coffee, a pretty journal, or a friend to hold us accountable. There's nothing magical about the coffee, but the physical act of preparing it helps keep my quiet times on track. Maybe it could help you too. 

Until next time, grace and peace.

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