Give it to me straight: In our agenda-driven culture, interruptions are seen as annoyances or problems that get in the way. But what if interruptions hold greater opportunity? In this post, we unpack the art of managing interruptions with grace and compassion.
Interruptions: the Word that Crosses My Mind at Inopportune Times
“Interruptions,” the word came to my mind as I noticed a man on the side of the road who needed help. I was running behind, so I kept driving. I justified myself. If only I had time, I could stop and help him. What a shame.
No sooner had I thought that, another voice tugged in my spirit, whispering, “Motherhood will be full of interruptions.” My pregnant belly nearly touched the steering wheel I drove behind.
A strange feeling washed over me – sinking, almost. A life of interruptions was to be my fate. My curated schedule waited for the wrecking. It entailed the humility of not always knowing how to best plan.
Could I find peace in that life?
I drove ahead with dread, gratitude, conviction, and joy. The odometer counted another mile, unknowing that the driver sat in the fear that she was not cut out for a life of interruptions.
Motherhood Breathes Interruptions
That dreaded word became my lived experience in the earliest days of my motherhood.
I spent, what felt like, most of the morning trying to get the baby nap out of my arms. I paused the folding of laundry to soothe him. Stacks of shirts and piles of socks surrounded us as I rocked him to sleep, knowing he naps best close to me and there was no chance of letting him down. If I wanted him to rest and rest well, the laundry would need to wait.
I stepped over the hill of wrinkled, unfolded clothes as I held my baby close. This new mother was just wise enough to know that the laundry would still be there when he no longer needed me.
I made a cognizant choice to relish the interruption.
Just later in the afternoon, I reheated a bowl of soup for a late lunch. I had just sliced an avocado and my belly grumbled. But when I picked the baby up, I caught a whiff of something more vile. I held my breath as a yellow stain appeared from the top of his diaper and slowly spread up to his shoulders. I carried him upstairs and began to undress him, only to realize there would be poop from his head to his toes by the end of this.
“Well, I’ve gotta bathe him,” I thought.
Down we went back to the kitchen, passing the bowl of soup to fill the sink with soap bubbles. We played in the suds for a bit as the soup cooled, and then I carried him back up the stairs.
That interruption cooled my soup. I should have been annoyed, but my baby rested in my lap and that nourished us both in ways the soup couldn’t.
Having survived the blow-out, I put the baby down for another nap later in the afternoon. Taking the opportunity to do something quiet and for myself as he rested, I made a cup of hot cocoa, opened a Word document, and began writing. The practice of free writing reminded me who I desire to be.
I neared a page when I heard a cry. His eyes widened with tears as I came to console him. I picked him up and forgot about the page.
In faith I later saved and closed the document as baby stayed nestled in my arms. I trusted that whatever God would want to teach through my words would not be lost to the interruptions allowed in my day.
A Past Version of Me Shuddered at Interruptions – And Then I Realized Jesus Welcomes Interruptions
She didn’t see a way that she could ever be a person who welcomes pauses and breaks in the day. To be titled “unproductive” was her biggest fear. That woman couldn’t imagine a life in which her lists weren’t checked off and her goals weren’t written down.
The woman I used to be shuddered at the idea of becoming interruptible.
But motherhood began showing me that Jesus welcomes interruptions.
We see it when he goes out of his way to meet the woman at the well and calls Zacchaeus down from the tree to make sudden dinner plans. We know the truth in the way that he is always available to us. He’s got the whole world in his hands, and yet, he delights in every moment I draw near to him.
To him, interruptions aren’t something to be loathed or managed. Being interruptible is what makes him so glorious. He manages interruptions with grace and compassion.
Perhaps wisdom breathes life into our to-do lists and goals, but our efforts don’t act as our tickets into glory. Jesus lived the most glorious life on earth. I suppose he could have had to-do lists and an unwavering commitment to the things on them, but if he did, his intent to interrupt came out stronger still.
What I see of Jesus in the Bible, and in his work in the lives around me, compels me to believe that he’s a God that gravitates toward the need. And he meets us there with grace and compassion, not daring to rush our hearts or shame us for interfering with his agenda.
Changing Our Agenda to Interruptible and Gracious Love
The welcoming of compassion-filled interruptions embodies the agenda of Christ. His only agenda is interruptible, selfless love for us. Putting everything aside for interruption our hearts bend a little more in line with his.
God does not hurry the work in our lives but works with patience.
It takes faith to leave your agenda for the interruptible agenda of God’s. Take heart, dear one: nothing in your day exists outside of God’s approval. And even if you “accomplish” nothing on your lists today, you have grown nearer to the Lord and drawn others nearer to him too.
Perhaps the art of managing interruptions with grace is actually waving a humble white flag to the cause of constant-productivity and efficiency. Maybe growing into an interruptible person is the greatest accomplishment you could seek.