Pockets of Time

With the onset of motherhood, even with our firstborn daughter, I learned to value even the smallest pockets of time, those unexpected moments of which so much of life is established.  

As a pioneer in the then-foreign world of working from home, I can remember having freelance writing tasks and projects lined up, ready to run, just hoping for our baby to possibly nap.  Ready, get set, go.  I could not do everything, but I could do something.

It was amazing how much I could get done in ten minute increments.

I was reminded of those fruitful moments recently when I literally needed to flex my muscles.  With the onset of a tight shoulder, I knew I needed to add some weights to my daily exercise.  My daughters recommended some online Peloton arm and shoulder workouts, which are largely scheduled in 10 minute increments. 

Ten minutes?  I questioned what ten little minutes could do.  But just ten minutes is something I could do, not as daunting or time-consuming as an hour workout.  But I can probably squeeze in a ten minute pocket of time. 

Ten minutes largely occupies liminal space --that no man's land between what was and what is next. It is comprised mostly what we consider wasted minutes waiting in-between appointments.  But the Latin word limen does not mean an empty place, but a threshold -- a point of stepping into another room, entering a new experience, preparing for a transition, even into what is yet to come.  That threshold is a divine appointment in itself.

Still skeptical, I ordered two three-pound weights and signed onto a ten minute session of arm and shoulder exercises to the tunes of Whitney Houston.  Those ten minutes were filled to the max.  I endured.  I did it.  And the next day, I did it again. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And again. And again.  It is amazing the difference that daily ten minute appointment has made in my shoulder.  In the New York Times, Gretchen Reynolds recently wrote that even eleven minutes of exercise a day pushes back against the consequences of inactivity.

Thinking in minutes helps me move beyond reluctance.  Ten minutes gives me a foothold to get out of the paralyzing miry bog of mere good intentions.

What if I approached what is needful or even overwhelming in ten minute increments?  I don't have to clean out my entire closet, but just contribute ten minutes.  I don't have to write a thousand-page Russian novel, but I can write part of a story, a poem, or a blog for ten minutes.  I made surgical caps for frontline workers, ten minutes at a time.  I can't read the entire Bible in one sitting, but ten minutes a day over the course of the year changes my heart.

I just need to cross that threshold.  I promise myself just ten minutes.  And more often than not, seizing those little pockets of time is all I need to get going. 

And I feel like God chuckles, "Now watch what I do with this."  God brings the fruitfulness to it.

 

So teach us to number our days

that we may get a heart of wisdom.

                       Psalm 90. 12

 

Not just seizing the day, but that little ten minute pocket

           that isn't so insignificant after all.

And letting God redeem it

             into something incredible.