Reboot: Creating Margin For What Matters Most

Written by Connie Armerding

This past September, our family moved into our new rental house in Hood River, Oregon. In the chaos of unpacking one afternoon, I heard my husband call, “Hey Cons, what should our new wifi password be?”

Grateful for an excuse to take a break, I abandoned the box in front of me and headed for the couch, where husband had been sitting with his laptop, setting up all new utility accounts for the house. Settling into a spot beside him, I considered his question. It would have been easy and obvious for him simply to reuse all the login information we had used for the previous twelve years at our house in California. Yet he obviously felt – and I agreed with him – that this new chapter in our life was an opportunity to rethink all our “default settings” in life.

I thought a moment, then asked, “What about ‘reboot’?”

Tay smiled. “Works for me.”

Since that brief interaction, “reboot” has become not just a login, but a motto.

Reboot: an act or instance of making a change in order to establish a new beginning.

The term “reboot” most commonly refers to shutting down a computer and restarting it again. Reboots are needed when a computer is lagging due to too many programs running at once, causing it not to function as it was designed. When it’s rebooted, it usually takes some time for a computer to recover. Even machines need rest.

Can you relate to feeling a lag? To having too many systems running at once? Our family certainly did. Our lives in California were filled with commitments and obligations, all to good things. The problem was our lack of margin. Margin didn’t exist. We didn’t even know what healthy margin looked or felt like. It was rare to experience a weeknight in our home where every member of the family was present and free from their varying commitments. The busy pace we had maintained as a young married couple continued on even after adding children to the equation. We had taught our children that “busy” was they way to do life.

Then God in His infinite wisdom directed us to a different place. I still can’t believe that it was only a year ago that we traveled to Oregon for our Christmas break trip, excited to see family and friends and hoping for snow. Today as I write this, I’m looking out the window of our house and appreciating ten inches of fresh powder below my back deck. I couldn’t have imagined so much change in the course of twelve months.

I am especially grateful that this reboot happened for us in a time where the “cement” of our relationships with our children has not yet completely hardened. We are begin given the opportunity to restore some of the things that were being lost in our former busy and full life.

In a life without margin, the people that got overlooked were the ones right next to me. We would be together, but not present. We liked each other, but didn’t always prefer one another. There was always an option for something else, or someone else. These “somethings” and “someones” pulled and distracted us from fully knowing and seeing each other.

These last few months I have enjoyed being a mother more than I ever have. I am learning to be with my children. Now that we are living a slower and smaller life, I have the space available to meet them when they are ready to talk, wrap my arms around them when they want to snuggle, or just being in tune to their non-verbal cues indicating their desire to be close. It is a gift that my kids still want to be with me. I know the day is coming when they won’t prefer me above others. I am sad to say that I have lived days where I preferred others above them. I now find pleasure in meeting my kids for a lunch date at their school and sharing food from the hot lunch line, or in hearing the proud laughter that erupts when they beat their mom at a game of Memory. They are showing me the world on their level and my joy abounds in meeting them there.

A new year is here accompanied by conversations around new beginnings. I’m anticipating small buds to begin to poke through the ground. As a family, we are celebrating and tending to these delicate gifts. Together we are learning to slow down enough to watch the miracle of growth that is happening in our midst. In a rebooted life with more margin, I’m discovering gifts that have been in my possession the whole time.

Connie Armerding is a wife and stay at home mom to four. She holds a BA in Interpersonal communications from Wheaton College and is motivated by, and built for relationships with others. Her family recently moved to the PNW from California, and are in the midst of navigating the waters of change. She loves a good story, whether found in a book or hearing one from a friend over coffee. She has been captivated by the greatest story ever told, the story of God; The story from which all other stories are born. Her hope is that as she tells the stories of her ordinary life that an extraordinary God will be seen at work in the midst.

Connie enjoys writing and some of her own stories can be found at conniearmerding.com. or on instagram @carmerding.