Before the first word was spoken, before the first light pierced the darkness, before time itself began—there was a margin.

Not a void.
Not a blank.
But a space filled with the fullness of God.

It’s the space just to the left of Genesis 1:1 in your Bible. Go ahead—open it. Look at it. That tiny sliver of white space before the words “In the beginning…” That’s where my favorite part of the Bible lives. Not in a verse or a chapter, not even in a book—but in that sacred silence before the story begins.

Because in that margin, God already knows.

He knows the entire story—every thought, every intention, every word, every life, every rise and fall, every act of redemption. He knew the laughter of Sarah and the tears of Jeremiah. He knew the betrayal of Judas and the restoration of Peter. He knew the cross. He knew the empty tomb. He knew you. He knew me.

And He had a plan.

A Season of Saturation

For most of 2023 and 2024, I found myself in a season of stillness. I had more time on my hands than I’d ever had before. What began as boredom turned into a divine appointment.

I started reading—10 to 14 hours a day. Dozens of Christian books filled my shelves and my soul. Some of these books captivated my spirit, leading me to read them several times. In fact, there were a couple that I read so many times that I began to wonder if I could rewrite them myself.

But one book drew me in like no other: the Bible.

I read it cover to cover. Not once, but fourteen times in twenty-two months. Genesis to Revelation, again and again. I read it silently. I read it aloud. I read it to a friend who was legally blind and had never owned a Bible. We read together for hours each day, and somewhere between Genesis and Ruth, he met Jesus.

What a privilege that the Father allowed me to play a small part in that.

That season changed me. God used His Word to teach me, stretch me, correct me, and comfort me. But more than anything, He used it to reveal Himself. And the more I read, the more I saw how it all fits together—how the threads of history, prophecy, poetry, and promise are woven into one seamless story.

The Story Before the Story

The deeper I went, the more I realized something profound: none of this was accidental. Every moment in Scripture is the result of countless moments before it. Every encounter is the culmination of a thousand unseen choices, circumstances, and divine nudges.

For the first time, I realized that the history books are just that—history. They are the story of lives that were actually lived.

The Story of Joseph (Genesis 37–50)

Think about Joseph, the son of Jacob.

He was favored by his father.
Despised by his brothers.
Sold into slavery.
Favored by his master.
Unjustly thrown into prison.
Favored by his jailer.
Forgotten by the cupbearer.

From his vantage point, things looked grim—maybe even hopeless. Nothing made sense. Every step forward seemed to be followed by two steps back.

But God was doing something.

Every moment of Joseph’s life—every betrayal, every injustice, every delay—was preparation. God was shaping him, humbling him, positioning him. All of it was leading to a moment Joseph couldn’t yet see.

So he could save his family from famine.
So he could bring them to Egypt.
So they could become a nation.
So the promise to Abraham could be fulfilled.
So the Messiah could come.

Joseph didn’t see the big picture.
But God did.

Joseph lived in the margins.
But God was writing the masterpiece.

The Margin of Eternity

That’s why I keep coming back to the margin before Genesis 1:1. Because in that space, God already knows. He saw the whole story before the first word was written. He still sees it all.

“Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.”
—Psalm 139:16 (NIV)

“He chose us in Him before the creation of the world.”
—Ephesians 1:4

“The Lamb who was slain from the creation of the world.”
—Revelation 13:8

Before the beginning, He was already there.
Already loving.
Already planning.
Already redeeming.

That margin is not empty.
It’s full of purpose.

Reflection

Have you ever paused to consider what God knew before your beginning?

What if your life—your story—is not a series of random events, but a carefully woven thread in a divine tapestry?

The margin before Genesis reminds us that we are not accidents. We are not forgotten. We are part of a story that began before time and will echo into eternity.

And the Author?
He’s still writing.
Still revealing.

Prayer

Lord, thank You for knowing me before I ever knew You. Thank You for the margin—the space where Your eternal plan began. Help me trust that You are weaving my life into something beautiful, even when I can’t see the pattern. Teach me to rest in the knowledge that You knew… and You still chose me.
Amen.