Doodlin' in the Margin

Way back when I used to be a student of mathematics, I learned a lesson that has helped me a lot lately. No it does not involve simple addition and subtraction. No it isn't the reason my checkbook's agility is compared with Olympic level gymnasts. Further, this lesson really has nothing to do with numbers.

You see, early on in my math career I learned that numbers make about as much sense to me as Norwegian cooking. Cod + lye = lutefisk - really? I think it equals a permanently horrid garbage can because of thrown-out leftovers rotting on top of vomit. I digress. Basically, my mathematical abilities didn't come naturally, but I still learned a lesson in life because I was forced to do math homework.

The lesson comes from doodlin' in the margin.

With modern technology being what it is, margin may vary from paper to paper, but it doesn't matter what is being printed; there is always empty space surrounding all the work. Under-motivated undergrads learn early on in college how to ever-so-slightly adjust the margins so their 1200 word essay magically morphs into a 5-page masterpiece. Conservative Christians who work with guys that have names rhyming with the Mideons know how to print New Testaments with nearly no margin. But, in the end, there must be a place to stop, the work must stay on the page, and there needs to be some empty space.

It is in this empty space where my learning began. Amidst the chaotic scribbles that teachers recognized as "showing your work" I saw the empty space. Where my hard work tried to fit nicely in its place, my brain battled against it causing premature wrinkles on my face. As my frustrations boiled over like a miserable concoction of cod and lye, the space in the margin caught my eye.

The tip of my pen would wiggle and jump, squiggle and jiggle, and doodle like a wet noodle. Pictures of mountains set my mind's eye free. For the first time in my life, math was fun. When I saw that my textbook had over 300 pages containing margin, skiers shredded the slopes in my first-ever flip-book creation. Years of education have come and gone, but to this day I still find myself doodlin' in the margin. This is where the lesson is learned.

The lesson is learned when the lesson is lived.

Some may wonder where the lesson is learned so the lesson may be lived. Look in the Bible, because that's where it is. "Doodlin' in the margin" isn't in the ancient Hebrew texts. First century scribes didn't screw up when they translated the Word into Greek. The learned ones didn't throw it in when Latin was in. This wasn't even in Eugene Peterson's lexicon when he penned The Message.

Doodlin' in the margin comes from God's design when He created the world. After six days of work, God stopped, looked at His creation, and took the time to rest. In this rest, He observed that what was before His eyes "was very good." After I labored laboriously over my mathematics, I stopped for a bit, doodlin' in the margin and took delight in what I had done. The margin is home of freedom and fun, creativity and life. Each space is personal. God has created all of life to work in a cycle of six days of work and one day of rest. This is the best.

Nowadays, I open the pages of God's love letter to me and what do I see? Doodlin' in the margin.

In the space carved out of the chaos, I've found time to listen to Abba. He speaks through His Word and I write down what I hear. The gift I receive each week is from Him. The gift I receive each day is from Him. Sabbath rest is the margin in my week. Silence and solitude creates the margin in my day. It is there that I doodle. In the midst of life, Jesus speaks to me when I take time to stop. When the work is less important the One who allows me to work. As I delight in who He is, I learn a little more about who I am. This is the lesson I have so graciously been taught and am graciously learning how to live.

Doodlin' in the Margin.

Genesis 2:1-3 - Exodus 20:8-11 - Deut. 5:12-15 - Psalm 1:1-6 - Matt. 11:25-30 - Mark 6:30-32