10 Days to Better Spiritual Leadershipનમૂનો

The quality of a person’s leadership will be in part measured by time: its use and its passage. The character and career of a young person depends on how he or she spends spare time. We cannot regulate school or office hours—those are determined for us—but we can say what we will do before and after those commitments. The way we employ the surplus hours, after provision has been made for work, meals, and sleep, will determine if we develop into mediocre or powerful people. Leisure is a glorious opportunity and a subtle danger. A discretionary hour can be wisely invested or foolishly wasted. Each moment of the day is a gift from God that deserves care, for by any measure, our time is short and the work is great.

Minutes and hours wisely used translate into an abundant life.

On one occasion when Michelangelo was pressing himself to finish a work on deadline, someone warned him, “This may cost your life!” He replied, “What else is life for?”

Hours and days will surely pass, but we can direct them purposefully and productively. Philosopher William James affirmed that the best use of one’s life is to spend it for something that will outlast it. Life’s value is not its duration but its donation—not how long we live but how fully and how well.

Time is precious, but we squander it thoughtlessly. Moses knew time was valuable and prayed to be taught to measure it by days, not by years (Psalm 90:12). If we are careful about days, the years will take care of themselves.

A leader will seldom say, “I don’t have the time.” Such an excuse is usually the refuge of a small-minded and inefficient person.

Each of us has the time to do the whole will of God for our lives. Our problem is not too little time but making better use of the time we have. Each of us has as much time as anyone else. The president of the United States has the same twenty-four hours as we. Others may surpass our abilities, influence, or money, but no one has more time.

As in the parable of the pounds, where each servant was given the same amount of money, we each have been given the same amount of time. But few of us use it so wisely as to produce a tenfold return. The parable recognizes different abilities; the servant with less capacity but equal faithfulness received the same reward. We are not responsible for our endowments or natural abilities, but we are responsible for the strategic use of time.

When Paul urged the Ephesians to “redeem” the time (see 5:16), he was treating time like purchasing power. We exchange time in the market of life for certain occupations and activities that may be worthy or not, productive or not. Another translation renders the verse “Buy up the opportunities,” for time is opportunity. Herein lies the importance of a carefully planned life: “If we progress in the economy of time, we are learning to live. If we fail here, we fail everywhere.”

In the face of this sobering reality, the leader must carefully select priorities. He or she must thoughtfully weigh the value of different opportunities and responsibilities. The leader cannot spend time on secondary matters while essential obligations scream for attention. A day needs careful planning. The person who wants to excel must select and reject, then concentrate on the most important items.

It is often helpful to keep records of how each hour in a given week is spent, and then look at the record in the light of scriptural priorities. The results may be shocking. Often the record shows that we have much more time available for Christian service than we imagine.

Suppose that we allot ourselves a generous eight hours a day for sleep (and few need more than that), three hours for meals and conversation, ten hours for work and travel. Still we have thirty-five hours each week to fill. What happens to them? How are they invested? A person’s entire contribution to the kingdom of God may turn on how those hours are used. Certainly those hours determine whether life is commonplace or extraordinary.

The intrepid missionary Mary Slessor was the daughter of a drunkard. At age eleven she began working in a factory in Dundee, and there spent her days from six in the morning until six at night. Yet that grueling regimen did not prevent her from educating herself for a notable career.

David Livingstone, at age ten, worked in a cotton mill in Dumbarton fourteen hours a day. Surely he had excuses for not studying, for not redeeming the little leisure left to him. But he learned Latin and could read Horace and Virgil at age sixteen. At age twenty-seven, he had finished a program in both medicine and theology.

Similar examples are so numerous that we have little ground today to plead insufficient time for achieving something worthwhile in life.