Recently, I came upon an unexpectedly sweet moment between two of my boys. My oldest had just settled in on the couch with a good book when the 2 year old awoke from his nap, came toddling in, and asked for his brother to read him a book. My 13 year old set down his reading and pulled the diapered toddler onto his lap and began to reading a rousing edition of Thomas The Train. I tiptoed in from the kitchen to catch a glimpse of the unprompted sweetness.
I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me to see such a welcome of an interruption, considering my eldest is the first of 6 boys. And yet, it does, because he’s the oldest of 6. He is constantly surrounded, forever sharing, always presumed upon, regularly required to serve, generously sacrificing, and consistently bombarded with questions. Come to think of it…that’s a pretty close description of how I feel most days, as mom.
And so, I look upon a scene of welcomed interruption with a bit of awe and surprise. Because, truth be told: I don’t gladly welcome needy (sweet though they may be) toddler interruptions.
There are many reasons to rightly take time away from addressing the needs of others, and so often, those are boundaries and wise choices to make in any relationship, even within your home and with our own children at times.
However, I’m reminded of the account of Jesus and the crowds in Matthew 14. Jesus had just heard that his cousin, John the Baptist, had died, and our Lord sought to be alone:
“Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a desolate place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. When he went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them and healed their sick.”
How captivating: It was Jesus’ compassion that turned his attention from what space, quiet, solace he needed…to what was needed by others. Jesus saw interruption as an opportunity rather than an inconvenience.
Weary momma, are you craving a little space and a little less of everyone needing you? Does it feel like you are being followed, even when you deliberately try and carve out a bit of alone time in a day? Let’s perhaps consider the possibility, today, that the most inconvenient of interruptions could become another’s greatest blessing. And, though it defines what feels comfortable, Christ alone can cause our hearts to follow in His footsteps: Where compassion rules over prerogative and love prevails over liberty. This is where interruptions find their welcome.
Because of grace,
Share this post:
