Where will you place your guardrails?

Apr 6

Written By

BY HEiDI PRAHL

Lover of Jesus, my family, really good coffee, and all things Chicago. I’m a living, breathing paradox.

It was at least ten years ago when I first heard a sermon by Andy Stanley about the concept of “margin.” He talked about the importance of living a life with a lot of margin - a lot of room to make mistakes without suffering life-altering ramifications. He essentially meant installing guardrails in your life, surmising that we’d inevitably cross lines, but if you had your guardrail set so far back from the edge, those missteps were much more likely to be corrected without serious consequence. This concept could apply to many aspects of life - finances, time management, relationships, interactions with others, and even food.

I think what intrigued me so much about this when we first heard it was that I knew we’d been living the exact opposite for so long. However, by the time we heard this sermon, so much of our lifestyle felt already past the point of no return. There seemed no way to turn that ship around and chart a new course. “It’s a nice idea for some people,” I quipped. “Maybe someday.”

I dismissed the idea as not being practical for us for the season we were in, but I tucked it away with a secret longing. A life protected by guardrails seemed so much simpler.

And so continued the status quo. Despite me all but forgetting, as so often is true, God did not. Over the course of the next few years, the bottom began to fall out in our lives in the most unimaginable ways. It was like the day of reckoning every single day for a season that lasted longer than I thought possible. There was a calling to account each aspect of our lives. I’ll spare you the details, but make no mistake, this deconstruction was a messy, painful, devastating process. It didn’t happen all at once; there was no rip-the-bandaid-off moment. This was an interval where time stood still, each day more agonizing than the prior. It’s part of the painful season I often write about but rarely give details on. In part because it’s so very personal and in part because there’s still so much left to process.

Suffice it to say that as the deconstruction happened it gave us the opportunity to build back those parts of our lives from scratch. With margin. With guardrails - this time so very far from the edge.

Practically this meant we no longer spent every dollar, as we’d become accustomed to. We made a promise to not just live within our means but below them wherever possible. This wasn’t a switch to flip on, rather decision after decision to say no when we previously would’ve said yes. We were building new muscles in areas of finance where we’d never been strong. No more being “owned” by anything that provided temporary satisfaction but created long-lasting heavy debt (I’m looking at you brand new cars that we often upgraded on a whim).

This mindset shift was just plain hard. Eventually, that feeling of sacrifice gave way to a feeling of freedom and essentially opened up a whole new world that always seemed out of reach - the ability to travel, to help those in need (my heart and my means didn’t always match), even a rainy day fund. Over time we grew to appreciate the financial wiggle room over the pricey indulgences we once pretended we could afford.

Next came the reconstruction of our time. Previously, we never turned down a volunteer opportunity - it didn’t matter if we felt called to it. We never missed a day of church or the chance to teach Sunday school or volunteer in the church nursery. Our personal lives and our time with our children suffered greatly simply because we had no margin. We had no guardrails to guide our decisions. Over time we learned to ask if we really had the time to spare - the energy, the heart, the dedication. The things that were truly important had always been put on the back burner as we continually poured ourselves into the next opportunity. This reality broke my heart. I live with regret about the things we didn’t do with each other or our children simply because we allowed ourselves to be pulled in all directions. Having margin, protecting our time, as husband and wife, and as parents, could have spared some of that ache that still lingers.

Living a life with margin means that when you set your guardrail so far from the edge you protect those relationships most important to you. I’m no marriage counselor, but marriage is something I’m deeply passionate about. I can’t tell you where to place your guardrails in your relationship, but as you can see, this is probably the most important area to have them placed as far back the edge as possible. Practically, this means things like making conscious choices about who you are friends with, who influences your relationship, what topics you will discuss with people who are not your spouse, and how you will handle social media. This will most likely be different for every couple but it is important to have the hard conversations and be very deliberate about where you place your guardrails. My advice: leave a lot of margin.

This journey has been rocky; the path to get to the point of building back with margin has been wrought with pain and struggle and heartache like no other. While incorporating margin has at times become second nature, we still make mistakes. We continue to learn as we go. When we slip up, that’s just a reminder to keep moving those guardrails further from the edge. We’ve learned the hard way that it’s way less painful to climb out of a hole when you’re not starting from the very bottom trying to hoist yourself out. Better yet, keep yourself from the edge to begin with.