20 minutes in 2020.

The thought that I keep coming back to, over and over again in this season of my life is this: 

What would happen if we asked God to help us steward what we already have before we asked him for more?

Baby steps with my baby boy.

Baby steps with my baby boy.

What if we culled through our time and committed an hour every single day to work on the thing that we believe He’s called us to? What if we committed 20 minutes? Or even two? What if we just showed up?

Since reading Atomic Habits, I’ve been thinking about the practice of breaking down a habit into components so small that it would be ridiculous to not take action. Do one push up. Open up a google doc and let your fingers linger over the keyboard without compelling them to write. Change into your workout clothes as soon as you get home from the office.

Take one tiny step over and over. Put in the reps. Remind yourself that you are a person who shows up. Then scale up from there.

We don’t have to go big or go home.

We can go small.

We can go so small that no one else would notice.

We can start with one single minute – of prayer, of brainstorming, of squats, of whatever.

And then we can repeat it, over and over again. We can repeat it until the neural pathway in our brain is established, until it’s part of who we are.

The other day my five-year-old asked me, “Why are days important?”

“Because days make up our lives,” I answered quickly. I really don’t know if that’s the answer he was looking for, but it’s the answer I’ve been living – breaking down life goals into fragments of time.

I’ll sit down in my office nook for a handful of minutes to type a few sentences or jot down reminders. I leave my Bible open so that when I walk by, I can read a few words. I’ll do squats in between playing tag with my boys and lunges as I chase them down the street in their scooters. I’m crazy about how I spend my time these days, because I’ve learned how each win can be broken down into several tiny actions that mean little on their own, but compounded add up to undeniable progress. 

The minutes matter because they make up the hours that make up the days. 

In 2020, I am practicing believing that I have the time that I need to accomplish what I am meant to do in a day. Using my minutes is a practice of choosing abundance over scarcity, get to over have to.

This year I’ve used the margins to write literally, too, in the white space of my Bible. I’m practicing believing that the tiny revelations add up. 

I’m practicing believing that there is a trajectory towards peace and wholeness that starts with the belief that there is nothing too small for God to use, no insight too insignificant, no amount of time too small.

For me, the magic number is 20. Long enough for me to feel focused and in the flow and unhurried and short enough to squeeze in between meetings or events. Twenty minutes is the sweet spot of being a long enough period of time to start being able to focus, to develop flow. Twenty minutes is a solid chunk, and do it three times on repeat, and you’ve got yourself an entire hour.  Twenty minutes is enough time, when stacked repeatedly, to start making visible progress. 

In 20 minutes, I can bike a little over 5 miles and run about 2. In 20 minutes, I can write about 500 words. I can read a few chapters of a book. I can prep an easy meal. I can play a game with my kids.

My husband and I play the game sometimes where we say, remember when? Remember when we used to go to the movies? Like on a weekday with no advanced planning? Remember when we used to take naps in the middle of a weekend afternoon? Remember how much time we had?

We did. We had so. much. free. time.

But – we still have time. 

(There’s a saying that if you want to get something done, ask a mother).

The limitations on our lives can make us hungry and scrappy, leading us to work harder and do more with less. Constraints force us to make trade-offs and the hard choice between the better and the best. Constraints force us to prioritize. Constraints force efficiency. 

Here’s what I’ve committed to in 2020, in 20 minute chunks of time (honestly though, some days it’s two minutes, and I still count it):

DAILY

  • Centering prayer

  • Morning quiet time & Bible study

  • Reading, both my own books and reading out loud with the boys

  • Working out (usually Peloton)

  • Writing – journaling, blog posts, the occasional essay

WEEKLY

  • A marriage “business meeting” to hammer out schedules and plan date night

  • Making my to-do list for the week (letterpress notepads are my splurge)

  • Planning meals and ordering groceries on Instacart

  • Decluttering

MONTHLY

We can go small, and we can go slow. 

It’s all progress.