Ten Minute Pockets

Quick.  The baby just fell asleep.

I am helping my daughter again this week while she is working a crazy schedule at the hospital.  And along with changing diapers and heating up bottles, I found that I can still maximize a ten minute pocket of time.  There was a chapter in my life when I could have achieved a PhD in making the most of ten minutes to spare.  

The key is to keep a running list and watch for those unexpected pockets of time.   I keep a mental and sometimes written list of what needs to be done, so when the opportunity raises its hand,  I am all over it, jump in quick, and get as much done as possible in those precious minutes.  Ready to go.  Think of it like a game with the timer running.

It is incredible what can be done in ten minute intervals:

--get the bills paid

--pull together the ingredients for supper 

--fold a basket of clothes

--write a letter, blog, or novel, a paragraph at a time
--read a letter, blog, or novel, a paragraph at a time

--call your mom, sweet and quick

--actually hold a conversation with a spouse or child

--clean out the fridge
--read through the Bible in a year

What could you accomplish with ten minutes?

When I was growing up, my mom would lie down on the living room floor in the middle of the afternoon and sleep for just ten minutes, then get up, and go about her day.  I didn't understand it until I had four kids.  That ten minute power nap kept her from getting overwhelmed.

In pre-internet days, a good friend of mine with seven children kept a briefcase of sorts in her car and took advantage of little pockets of time waiting in the carpool line or the dentist waiting room.  When I realized the vast number of books she read in a year, I too began keeping books in my car and purse for a chapter or two, here and there.

It is easy to think that "someday I will have time."  Huge spans of available time will never happen.  Trust me, our grown daughters' baby books are still waiting.  But a ten minute pocket of time?   I can usually find that.  I am amazed at what can be done.  Sometimes I may not be able to complete a task, but I can diminish it in intentional chunks.

I have a patchwork quilt sewn by my grandmother, a precious piece of artwork in my eyes.  It was constructed of tiny leftover pieces of material, small squares stitched together with her arthritic hands, one square attached to the next, over a long period of time.  It is an heirloom she left behind.

I like to think of ten minute squares of time, creating something just as productive and endearing.  It is how I love others and a way of worshiping God...who invented time after all.

Need to go.  The baby is waking up.