The Power of an Hour

Our car ride to church was less than stellar.  My eyes felt puffy, and I'm not completely certain I had brushed my teeth.  We were riding in the car like zombies.

"Are you in a bad mood or something?" I asked hubs.

"No, why?"

"You seem like you're in a bad mood," I prodded.  I'm really good at prodding.

"Nope.  Not me.  You seem like you're the one in the bad mood," he replied with a tone...you know the tone.

"Wait a minute.  Don't turn this around.  You do that all the time. You're the cranky one this morning."

"Ummm. I'm pretty sure we're all cranky." 

Boo yah. Silence.

Yep, we're all cranky. We've had snow on the ground for three weeks, the temps haven't been above freezing for a while, and we're all just a little sick of being inside.  We need a good dose of Vitamin D in a bad way.  Granted, those more north of us are accustomed to this, but those in our neck of the woods are pretty much sick of snow after the first day of sledding and snowmen.

And on top of that, we lost an hour due to Daylight Saving Time.

I love the longer days of Spring and Summer, but I do not love losing that hour.  How can one hour make such a difference?

 

The past three mornings around here have been cruel.  My internal clock and my alarm clock aren't singing the same wake-up song yet. Over the past few years, I've noticed that it often takes two weeks to readjust to the time change.  I'm pretty certain this is the time that moms of little ones everywhere should schedule a week of vacation to help with the re-acclimation.  Nobody wants to go to bed and nobody wants to get up.

One hour.  What makes one hour so powerful?

Just one hour out of every day.

I started thinking about how much of life is affected by just one hour. 

Every week, I have at least an hour of coffee with my girlfriend.  We visit, catch up, and plug in.  We talk about our kids, our husbands, our problems, our weight and anything else that hits the radar.  We sometimes discuss good books, and sometimes we discuss tough theology.  It's friend-therapy and we've come to realize that it's necessary for our mental health. That hour is carved out of our busy schedules and our combined six kids each week, and we do our best to protect it. Occasionally, when time allows, one hour becomes two or three.  All the better.

Over the last couple of months, I've started spilling that concept into other relationships.  My parents are both retired, and we share the same town.  You would think it would be easy to see each other fairly often, but in a crazy world with active kiddos, weeks can get away without more than a drive-by of their house.  My mom's a little like me and loves to talk.  She and Dad both like to know the latest happenings with the grandkids, so I thought it'd be a good idea to schedule one day to catch up.  So for about an hour each Wednesday, we have lunch together.  We do our best to guard this time, and I've learned that if I forget, Mom will remind me.  It's refreshing for all of us to spend that one hour together much like we did most nights growing up - around the table where no topic is off-limits.  We feed our bellies, but this hour helps feed our souls.

Everyday I get up approximately one hour before the rest of my gang. This isn't because I'm that disciplined, but simply because I'm that desperate.  I've done this ever since my kids were little. It's the one solid hour of the day that I spend with the Lord.  I'm not legalistic or uber holy; I'm just selfish with my time with Him.  I need the quiet, the non-chaotic, and the solitude that this one hour delivers. The refuge of this hour gives me strength for the rest of the day. It's fuel for my weariness even on mornings when sleep has been stolen the night before.  Oh, the power of that hour. 

One hour a week I sit with a table full of women on Sunday mornings and discuss bible passages.  This time of fellowship, encouragement, and digging into the Word together is the iron-sharpening-iron I need to fight the spiritual battles of the week ahead.  In that hour we share thoughts, ideas, hard questions, and life applications.  It's set aside for us as our Life Group time, but it's as valuable to me as life support. 

Oh, the power of one hour.

At least one hour cumulative per day, or at least close to that, I spend time checking social media. Since the likes of facebook, instagram, and twitter have come into existence, my hours are now often wasted in scrolling, posting, tweeting, and creeping.  These can absolutely be used in positive ways, but how many of us can raise our hands and say that we waste wayyyyyy too much time on them throughout the course of our days. It often drains my tank, revs up my comparison motor, or sends my judgmental tendency into overdrive. It's often a wasted hour.

Often an hour of my week is spent on useless television.  Confession Alert: I've watched a few episodes of The Real Housewives.  In some unexplainable realm of the universe, watching their crazy lives makes me feel a little more sane sometimes.  I zone in to their world and when I zone back into mine, it somehow feels much more normal.  Thankfully, the group of women I hang with don't pull hair, go on rants, or go to jail.  Or at least none that come to mind at the moment.  Bottom line - it's a useless hour I can't retrieve or reassemble. 

At least an hour of my week, and sometimes an hour of my day, is spent in worry and anxiety.  I fret over things which I have no control.  I worry about not enough hours in the day and too many loads of laundry on the floor. I'm sometimes anxious about what the future will hold and what the past won't let go.  Like facebook and the Housewives, it's a total drain of time.  My worrying helps nothing. It negates the very hour that I spend at the beginning of my day praying and trusting. It's a ridiculous use of my time, and it shows where my trust lies. Another hour wasted.

Our hours matter. They can drain us or fill us. They can be spent pouring into others or sucking the life out of our own selves. 

Our hours matter.

One small hour has managed to wreak a little havoc on my family this week.  We're grumpier and edgier.  Our sleep is all jacked up, and we want to eat at weird times.  One small hour has messed with our attitudes and our morning sunshine. 

Imagine the power of the small hours of your life.

An hour of exercise after work to get yourself healthier.
A weekly scheduled hour with your teenager connecting over froyo.
An hour at the nursing home spending time with the widow from your church.
An hour of volunteering at the school for the after-care program.
One hour talking with someone you know you've offended, asking for forgiveness.
A weekly hour of game time with the family.
An hour in humble submission, on your knees instead of on your phone.

The ideas are endless.  What could you do with the power of one small hour? 



And do this, understanding the present time: The hour has already come for you to wake up from your slumber, because our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed.  The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. So let us put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light.
Romans 13: 11-12