Spiritual White Space
When the enemy comes in like a flood, the Lord will lift up a standard against him.—Isaiah 59:19
One day, an artist I met in Europe opened a door and spray painted a white square on the green grass, except for a lush green center square. Then, he talked about the necessity for white space (in this case, green space). Good art—good composition, whether in paint, print, typography, music, or dance—has white space. The garish white paint on the lush grass was relieved by that center square.
Message received.
The concept of white space has captivated me ever since—a dynamic emptiness waiting to be filled. Or not. Or not yet. A necessary waiting. A welcome rest.
As visual art offers the eyes a place to rest, dance and music offer the eyes and ears their still points, allowing the soul to catch up with the breathtaking choreography or swelling voices.
The French had a name for those little pockets of green scattered in their cities—green space. Whether tiny as a postage stamp or as grand as a royal garden, France’s green spaces created white space for the soul in the frenzy of a world-class urban center.
Our 24/7 lifestyles with the internet leave us little elbow room for white space. On the contrary, we open the floodgates of our souls in unhealthy ways, and the waters come up to our necks. What do our souls look like without white space?
Jesus called the Pharisees white-washed tombs—motivation enough for me to check my rhythms weekly. So let’s elbow our way in to some spiritual white space.
White Space
Jesus also offers us the Sabbath—a day off. For twenty-four hours, we get to practice trusting God to run the world and keep our personal planets spinning in their axes. It’s counterintuitive, but like physical training, we build stamina in trusting God one Sabbath at a time. However we practice Sabbath, the point is to rest, to resist being consumed by work, spiritual hostility, secular distractions, and what the disaster of the month is. As we build trust in God to smooth things out and help us forward while we rest, dynamics shift. We prevail against our flesh and our enemy.
How we define rest is another matter. My own practice has evolved over two decades. Now, I seek whatever spiritual nourishment and refreshment I need on any given Sabbath. I could be a swim, a beach, a nature walk, a museum visit, a phone call with a friend, dinner with family, or an extra hour to nap or read. Flowers and music are regular companions. A Sunday service is optional since I’ve been in ministry so long. It can feel like work. But if I’m not in a brick-and-mortar church, I’m meeting with my small group of Sunday Sisters.
Rest is also a weapon, as you may have heard. Believers prevail over Satan by their faith in Jesus, Lord of the Sabbath. And sometimes they do so by rest. Even Satan, who controls the world, has an expiration date. But we can’t wait that long. And so we rest, to manage our spiritual energy and go the distance of the cosmic war we’re in.
White space is the rest available when we don’t cram every minute, hour, day, and brain cell with something. Consuming information fills our eyes, ears, and minds—every nook and cranny of our spirits, homes, and schedules—with entertainment and visual stimulation.
Sorry. I crammed a lot in that very long sentence.
How is life exhausting you lately? What do you need to rest from?
Pursuing God sometimes looks like a nap. Exhausted or not, it takes confidence to let God rule the world while we rest. Our hope for a future triumph is in him. His presence, peace, and provision are available as we need it. We shield ourselves from the firehose of the internet. When it floods us, we close our eyes and look with the eyes of our heart for Jesus’s banner and hear his words to Moses: “The Lord will fight for you, you need only to be still” (Exodus 14:14).
We prevail with white space.