I’ve reached a point in my life that my perspective on what constitutes an interruption has shifted. Like most people reading this, there are things I intend to accomplish by the end of today, the end of the month, or the end of my life. I make plans. I keep lists. I have places to be and things that need to get done.
But the truth is that sometimes we experience detours and delays we initially consider aggravating, which turn out to take on a trip so beautiful we couldn’t have planned if we tried.
That possibility has changed the way I think about interruptions. Most of us naturally define an interruption as something that gets in the way of what we were supposed to be doing. But when I read the Gospels, I’m struck by how often Jesus seems to be interrupted.
Someone calls out from the crowd. A desperate father approaches Him. A woman reaches through the people just to touch His clothes. Children are brought to Him when the disciples apparently believe He has more important things to do. And repeatedly, Jesus stops.
One of my favorite examples happens in Mark 5. Jesus is already on His way to help Jairus, whose daughter is dying. This is urgent. There is a destination, a purpose, and seemingly no time to waste. Then a woman who has suffered for twelve years pushes through a crowd to simply touch His garment. Jesus stops.
From the disciples’ perspective, it probably made little sense. There was a crowd pressing around Him. Jairus was waiting. A child was dying. But Jesus saw a person where everyone else saw a delay. That’s a challenging thought. I wonder how many times I have been so focused on getting somewhere that I nearly missed someone. The phone call that lasts longer than expected. The conversation in the parking lot. The person who walks into the office when the schedule is already full. The grandchild who wants your attention when you are trying to finish something “important.”
Not every interruption is a divine appointment. Some distractions really are distractions. Wisdom still matters. But perhaps we should be slower to assume that anything disrupting our agenda is interfering with our purpose. Sometimes the interruption is the purpose.
Jesus never seemed hurried by people, even when He was moving toward something important. He understood something we easily forget: accomplishing the task and loving the person are not always competing priorities. In fact, sometimes loving the person is the task.
So I’m learning to hold my plans a little more loosely.
I still have things I want to accomplish today, this month, and with whatever years God gives me. But I’m trying to leave some room for the unexpected.
Because occasionally, what looks like a detour may actually be the road God intended for us to travel.