Chapter 8
Redeeming the time, because the days are evil.
—Ephesians 5:16
“Wow, when you go walking, you’re really serious,” Ethan said when he came up to me. He gave me the once-over. “I mean, you don’t play.”
I had changed out of my work clothes into a purple with gold trim jogging suit. Had I not been meeting Ethan, I would have done what I normally do and just worn my clothes. It’s just that, given what I remembered about Ethan from our earlier days, I figured he was likely a serious walker. And if he was, he was coming to the park to really work out. The last thing I needed was to sweat out my clothes and have to walk around in smelly clothes for the rest of the day. And the way my life goes, this would probably be the day when a bunch of folks decided to come into the shop to buy flowers, just because I’d sweated my clothes out.
“What were you expecting?” I said, playing it off. “I knew you would most likely bring it. I decided this was the least I could do to keep up.”
“Oh, so you thought I was going to bring it, huh?”
“Yes.” I gave him my own once-over, mainly to return the favor he’d just done to me. Although I must say that he looked exceptionally good in his black jogging pants and that black (rather tight-fitting) spandex top. “It looks like I was right,” I said. “I can see that you came dressed to do some serious damage on this track.”
“I told you that I work out. I have to. It’s important that I keep my body in shape in order for me to do what I do.” He began to do warm-up exercises.
I looked at the things he was doing—stretches and lunges. “So you do all of that before you walk, just to walk?”
“Yes. You need to loosen and warm up your muscles before you begin. It keeps injuries down during a workout.” He started doing more leg lunges.
I did a few of the things he was doing just so I wouldn’t look like such a rookie. But I wasn’t planning on doing anything more than walking, possibly jogging a few yards, then back to my normal walking again. “Well, feel free to do what you normally do,” I said. “Don’t let me slow you down.”
He smiled, then bounced a few times. “Oh, come on. Let me see how well you can keep up with me. I promise: I’ll take it easy on you.”
“Oh, you’ll take it easy on me, huh?”
“Yeah. Besides, it will allow us to talk while we do it.”
“Talk? While we’re running or whatever it is you plan on doing?”
“Yes . . . talk. Talking is a good way to gauge how well you’re doing. We should be able to do what we do and still hold a decent amount of conversation.”
“All right,” I said with a smirk. “But I reserve the right to quit when my body tells me it’s done.”
He bounced a few more times as he shook his body loose. I was not about to do all of that. I will confess: he did look good when he did it. With me, I didn’t think it would so much.
We began to walk, which was great since that’s what I’d come to the park to do.
“So . . . tell me about your family?” he said as he looked at me while maintaining a comfortable stride.
“I have three daughters.”
“Yeah. I remember them from that time I saw you in Rich’s some years back. So what are their names and how old are they now?”
“My oldest is Zanetta. She’s twenty-two, serving in the Air Force.”
“Wow, the Air Force!”
“Yes. She’s always been fascinated with planes, ever since she was a little girl. She’s always wanted to fly. So in spite of what her father and I argued against when she told us her intentions to enlist in the military, she was determined she was going to join the Air Force.”
“So are you okay now with her being in the Air Force? Wow . . . military. You know, she could have learned to fly through other means.”
“I know. But she was also interested in the money she’d earn for college by being in the military,” I said. “So I’m okay with what she’s doing. She’s living her life the way she wants. Then there’s my middle daughter who turned twenty last month. Her name is Zion. And Zion decided after she graduated from high school that she wanted to do missionary work. So she’s off right now helping people in Haiti. And last, but certainly not least, is my youngest daughter, Zynique, who’s seventeen, a senior in high school. Zynique has decided she’s going to own a dance studio after she graduates from high school. I suspect it will be a few years before that happens. The girl loves to dance! And she’s good at it, too. So despite her father’s and my insistence that she should still go to college and then start her own company, she’s interning with a woman who has her own studio. Zynique has concluded that she’s learning just as much of what she needs to know from Madame Perry—that’s the lady who owns the dance studio—if not more, being hands on with her.”
“An interesting set of children you have,” Ethan said as he suddenly broke out into a jog.
Without even thinking about it, I jogged right along with him. “Yes, they are. But I’m proud of them. I had planned on working at Social Security to help them with their college expenses, but as it happens, none of them appear to need me for that. In fact, my children are the reason I decided to leave Social Security and start my own company.” I was breathing harder now, a real indication of how out of shape I really was. But then it hit me how far we’d jogged without taking a break, and I was feeling pumped about that, although I knew my body would likely pay for this later tonight.
Ethan glanced over at me and began to slow things back to a walk. I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d looked physically distressed and whether, had he been jogging alone, he would have even stopped at that point.
“So you’re saying that your children were the reason you left that great-paying job with all of those great benefits? Everybody knows that people who work for the government have terrific jobs.”
“Yeah.” I was attempting to talk while at the same time trying to catch my breath. “You see . . . they were each . . . following their . . . dreams. . . .”
“And you realized that you’d put your dreams on hold,” Ethan said, tremendously helping me out by completing my sentence for me.
“Precisely,” I said.
“I’ve been there. But couldn’t you have waited and started the business after you retired or did it while you were working at Social Security? That way you could have still gotten a check while earning your retirement benefits.” He glanced over at me with a quick smile. “You know how we do.”
I pressed my hand into my right side as I continued to walk. I could feel slight pain there, but I wasn’t going to wimp out and tell Ethan I needed to stop, not at this point. Besides, what’s that saying? No pain, no gain.
“Yeah, I could have stayed,” I said. “But I started noticing that more and more people I personally knew were dying all around me. Most of them were in their early fifties and sixties, and there they were dying. So I started thinking: Who’s to say I’ll be around when it’s time for me to retire? Who’s to say I’ll be in good health when that time arrives? Who’s to say that financially, even, I’d be any better off by the time I’m old enough and have enough service to retire to do it?”
“All good points.”
I let my hand dangle down at my side as I picked up the pace to keep up with Ethan. “Besides,” I said, still speaking as I walked. “This opportunity seemed to have landed in my lap. I had been praying about starting my own business, and it was like God lined everything up just for me. And I’m sure you know that when God says it’s time, you have to move on it. You can’t stand in a place of indecision. You have to jump on it right then, or the cloud will still be moving and you’ll find yourself totally left behind.”
“Redeeming the time,” Ethan said.
“What?”
“Redeeming the time. You know: redeeming the time is making the most of every opportunity, even when it looks like you arrived late for the event,” he said. “It’s doing several things at once in order to catch up. Sort of like what you and I are doing right now. We’re walking while at the same time talking and catching up on lost time.”
“Yeah. Okay. Redeeming the time.”
Ethan broke out into a jog again. I started to jog with him, but, a few steps into it, I decided I didn’t want to. So I continued to walk. He looked back at me, grinned, then began to run full out.
I laughed. “Show-off,” I yelled after him. But he was too far gone to likely have even heard me.