I was taught at a very early age not to interrupt. If my parents were discussing something, and I came barreling down the stairs with the request to walk down to the neighbor’s house to swim, my dad would tilt his head down at me, narrowing his eyes, and in his deep infamous voice say, 

”Do not interrupt me. You can wait until your mother and I are done talking.”

Well, shoot. 

So, there I would sit – or probably stand obnoxiously close because I’m overly persistent when I want something – and wait. At the time I would think, what’s the big deal, just let me ask my question… it’ll take two seconds!

Now that I’m an adult, I loathe being interrupted. It’s so rude when someone else won’t let you finish your thought, allowing you the courtesy of getting a whole sentence out! And I’m more self-aware when someone else is talking so as not to interrupt them. It’s an unsaid respect that travels between myself and the person I’m speaking with. You simply don’t interrupt. 

This seems like common sense, right? 

Are you waiting for me to get to the punch line? Well, that’s the point. 

Right now, most of us are feeling as if our lives have been rudely turned upside down – they’ve been obnoxiously and painfully interrupted! We are all waiting, like my 12-year-old self being scolded by my dad, to get to the point. We want to rush through this interruption and return to “normal” life, life as it was. I know I’ve been thinking this lately!

But friends, what if the point is the interruption? Or, what if the interruption is actually some kind of divine appointment? What if, at the end of this craziness, we find that we rushed past what the Lord had to teach us in this season, all because of our craving for comfort? What if we’re looking past the divine appointment while at the same time bypassing the gift of His incredibly close presence amidst this chaos? 

I walked through Easter week keenly aware of the emotion and weight that Jesus’ sacrifice carries. Easter had never been so personal for me than it was this Spring, and I have no doubt it was because I allowed Him to have my full attention. In this season of my life, I have experienced Him in insanely intimate ways that I was missing out on before because of the distractions of my everyday “normal.” I’m learning in this season that interruptions are God’s gracious way of pulling me closer to Him.

As I am drawing closer to Him, with a deeper need for His presence, there’s a peace sprouting that wasn’t present before. It’s a kind of peace that I don’t ever want to let go of because for once, it isn’t dependent upon my circumstances. It’s dependent on His faithfulness birthed through His beautiful promises that He will not break. 

Sister, this season has been hard. My routines have been forced to change. I fear to leave my home to even go to the grocery store (not to mention that irrational fear that I will never again be able to find a single ounce of toilet paper). I hate not being able to see my family and friends. My heart aches, while at the same time remaining content because I am learning that Jesus is truly enough in every season. 

This interruption turned divine appointment has been soul-refreshing, heart-healing, and mind-strengthening. Once I stopped clenching my fists, trying to take control of every aspect of this chaos, and let it go into the hands of Jesus, my soul found rest. Once I decided that it was ok to be afraid, but not to let go of the hand of my Maker, I found peace. With each day that passes, I am more and more grateful for this time of solitude because it has brought me closer to my Creator. So many times I have had a strong desire to rush past the interruption, that I missed the blessing of His presence. 

Not this time.

This time, I am pressing in instead of away. This time, I am hiding in Him rather than hiding from Him. This time, I am taking my anxieties, sorrows, and anger to the throne of His grace instead of keeping them to myself. I can feel roots growing in places that have been barren; roots that can withstand a storm because they are planted by the loving hands of my Father in this season of obnoxiously painful interruptions. 

God uses life’s interruptions to teach us things; things that sometimes hurt and bring us to our knees. But when we are at our weakest, that is when we are the strongest, because our strength is dependent on His power and not our own. His glory can shine brighter because I am stepping out of the way and giving up control. Seeds can scatter and take root because I am trusting in the One who is the author of my story. I am learning the sweetness of His Spirit because I have actually taken the time to let go of what I think should be, and accept what He has for me right now. 

Friends, His story for our lives is always better than what we could’ve written up for ourselves. So my prayer for you in this season is that you would press in. Press into His loving presence where He aches to hand you the gift of peace, and a deeper relationship with Him. 

Allow this season to go from an interruption to a divine appointment. If you do, I promise you He will show up in ways that will blow your mind. His goodness and light will lead you through this because you are never alone when you walk the journey with your Father.

You are always seen, always heard and forever loved under the mighty wings of Jesus. 

He will cover you with His feathers and under His wings, you will find refuge; His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

Psalm 91:4