Making the Most of Your Time

Cindy Lynn White was 48-years-old, and she was my friend.

They buried her in Greeneville this past Friday, August 6, 2010.

To know Cindy was to love her. I can say that with no fear of it being disputed, if for no other reason than the droves of people who came to the funeral home to pay their last respects. But I have even more evidence than that.

I met Cindy in high school. She was a city girl, and I was a farm girl from the county, which normally would have meant that we lived in separate universes, and, I have to admit, should have meant that she felt and acted better than me. But nothing could have been farther from the truth with Cindy. She had an openness about her that immediately communicated how receptive she was to everyone. I don’t think she ever met a stranger, as they say where I come from, and, if Cindy knew you, you were her friend. Simple as that. No standards to meet. No hurdles to get over. No stumbling blocks. Just fun, and smiles, and friendship. Cindy cared. That’s all there was to it. And the literally hundreds for whom she cared showed up in full force to bid her farewell.

It happened much too soon.

They used Cindy’s high school graduation photo in her obituary, which was surprisingly appropriate, because the last time I saw Cindy, she really hadn’t changed all that much. We’d played softball and basketball against one another in high school, which ironically led to us being in medical rehab together, both of us for knee injuries. Even more irony is that her injury sort of came at my hands during a softball game, but that’s another story. She forgave me. Of course. She was Cindy.

We went on from there to work together, while I was in college, at Mickey D’s, where Cindy was a shift manager. Despite only being five foot nothing, she was a fireball of energy. When I sang a few years later at her wedding to Kevin, her diminutive size may have paled in comparison to his height, but there was never anything diminutive about Cindy’s presence. Cindy was strong and she knew it.

She still seemed exactly the same the last time I saw her on October 20, 2009. Our friend Jean’s mom had passed away unexpectedly. We’d all entered that phase of life. You know, the one in which grandparents and maybe parents are beginning to pass, so we typically only saw one another at the funeral home. That’s where I saw Cindy. She sat right beside me during the funeral. Never would I have imagined that this picture of health, who looked just like her high school graduation photo, would receive a stage 4 cancer diagnosis 5 short months later. And never in a million years could I have anticipated she would be gone in just 5 more short months after that.

Yet there I stood on Thursday night, one of the hundreds who waited patiently in line for over two hours to reach her family. It gave me a lot of time to think. And I wondered; what was it about Cindy that obviously touched so many lives? Do I even have it…whatever it is? And have I even begun to impact a fraction of people in the way Cindy did? These are difficult questions for anyone to ask and answer. Maybe none of us will ever bring to bear the unique combination of what made Cindy Cindy. So I won’t ask you to hold yourself to that standard anymore than I’m going to beat myself up about it. But I do want to ask you to think about one thing.

If Cindy’s life teaches us anything, it’s that we don’t know how much time we have.

How many times have you caught yourself thinking, “One of these days, I’m going to…” or “Someday, when I have time, I would like to…” or “When I retire, I am definitely going to…”?

Please don’t wait to live. Whatever it is, don’t put it off. LIVE your dreams NOW.

Perhaps an even greater weakness we all suffer is not worrying about the time we waste. We waste it on the unimportant, the inconsequential, the distractions. We don’t think about how we might use this time differently, if we knew it was all we had left.

But we should. Today is all you know for certain that you have. Each hour. Each minute. Make it count.

Last week I wrote about redeeming your time. One of the other translations of that phrase was making the most of every opportunity. I think Cindy redeemed her time. I don’t think she ever missed a single opportunity to do what she did best—reach out to others, build relationships, show compassion, offer help, and make every single person she encountered feel special.

What would it look like to redeem your time? Have you identified your priorities? Do you know what’s most important to you? Do you know what it would look like, if you were making every minute count?

Life truly is short, and some lives are even shorter than others. Whatever time you have, don’t waste it. Make it count.

With all my best and deepest love and condolences to Cindy’s family,

                                                                                          Rhonda

Redeeming Your Time

Okay, for all you young women out there reading this, I’m about to really date myself. But here goes.

Who can remember the days when we redeemed our glass soft drink bottles at the store for cash?

I do, I do!

I grew up on a farm out in the country . . . apparently a long, long time ago . . . and we were a good ten miles from the city limits . . . even farther from town. But at the center of our little farming community we had Colyer & Inscore General Merchandise, known simply and affectionately as The Store. And I remember well into my adulthood putting our glass Pepsi bottles back into the cardboard cartons and stashing them on the back porch, until it we found the time to take them to the store and cash them in.

It was common practice. On the long planked porch that stretched the length of the storefront any number of wooden crates stood ready to receive the returned bottles. You could find them leaned against the back wall, or stacked neatly in one corner, or sometimes even snuck up under someone’s axle that had been jacked up by some mischievous boys just enough to prevent the tires from touching down. The wooden boxes, sized to hold a couple dozen, had lots of unofficial uses, but they were constant reminders to return the bottles when we finished with the contents. I don’t think I ever heard the word redeem used to describe it, but, of course, that’s what we were doing.

Someone else talked about redeeming. The Apostle Paul, in his letters to the Ephesians, urged them to redeem their time: “See then that you walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise; redeeming the time, because the days are evil.” Ephesians 5:15-16 KJV

Other translations of the phrase, “redeem the time,” use even more enlightening words: make good use of time, make the best use of the time, make the most of your time, make the very most of the time [buying up each opportunity], make the most of every opportunity, make every minute count.

It’s pretty easy to see why we redeemed our glass soft drink bottles. There was a cash reward. But why should we care about redeeming our time?

I’ll let The Message version’s paraphrase of this passage from Paul’s letter answer that question.

"Don't waste your time on useless work, mere busywork, the barren pursuits of darkness. Expose these things for the sham they are… Rip the cover off those frauds…Wake up from your sleep, Climb out of your coffins…watch your step. Use your head. Make the most of every chance you get…”

Is there a reward for redeeming our time? You better believe there is, the same way there’s a consequence if we don’t.

There was no consequence associated with never returning our soda bottles. Well, there were the longer and broader consequences: those bottles ended up in the garbage and eventually filled up the ground somewhere, instead of filling up our pockets with change. Still, the bottle police didn’t come haul us in for our lax redemption practices.

No one will ever drag us in front of a judge for how we redeem our time either. But the consequence of not redeeming our time? It screams at me from that passage in The Message: waste, useless, barren, sham, and fraud. If we’re not redeeming our time —investing it—in the things that matter, we’re already dead in our coffins. We’re fooling ourselves into thinking that we’re living, when all the while, we haven’t redeemed even a small percentage of the time we have.

How do we redeem our time? The same way we redeemed those drink bottles . . . we take the time to do it. We make it a priority to spend time identifying our priorities, analyzing our habits, learning our weaknesses and ways to manage ourselves better, and intentionally planning how we’re going to go about redeeming our time tomorrow . . . next week . . . next month . . . next year.

Redeeming our time doesn’t just happen accidently. It takes intentional effort. So I’m devoting the month of August to intentionally helping you learn about and become intentional about redeeming your time . . . making the very most of the time you’re given. . . making every minute count. And, only during the month of August, I’ll be discounting this program between 25-50% below normal prices.

I hope I’ll see you in one of my upcoming Time Mastery sessions:

KNOXVILLE, TN

August 27, 8:00AM-12:00PM, UT Federal Credit Union, White Ave., Knoxville, TN

Register Now – Make Time! – Email info@rjsleadershipcoaching.com

OTHER TENNESSEE LOCATIONS:

August 30, 8:00AM-12:00PM, LOCATION & CLASS PENDING REGISTRATIONS, Sevierville, TN

August 31, 8:00AM-12:00PM, LOCATION & CLASS PENDING REGISTRATIONS, Athens, TN

Register now, if you want this class offered in the Sevierville or Athens area. Email TODAY at: info@rjsleadershipcoaching.com

If you’d like to arrange a public offering in your area, or an in-house session for you and your staff, contact me today. Group discounts are available.