I was in the middle of recording a series, something that will be released in the season of Easter, when a family member quietly walked into the studio and dropped a very small piece of equipment.
It could not have been louder. In the silence that is needed for recording audio, that one small item seemed to bounce and bang and the sound grew as it did. The seconds it took for it to stop and find a resting place on the floor felt like an eternity. And I, in my selfishness, could only think about what I had lost.
But then it hit me. Some of Jesus’ greatest work was accomplished when he was interrupted.
Don’t you remember?
Jesus was interrupted multiple times while preaching, sometimes even mid-sentence.
“Have mercy on me,” a blind man yelled after Jesus. And he was cured of blindness.
A woman unexpectedly grabbed at Jesus’ garment and she was cured of her flow of blood.
A ceiling opened up and a man was lowered into the home where Jesus was teaching. The man regained use of his legs.
Our God seems to thrive on the unexpected; He doesn’t merely tolerate the surprises of life but rewards them as privileged encounters when absolutely anything might take place.
So why don’t we see it that way?
We have plans and schedules and reminders of all kinds to make sure that we keep them, not stopping for a moment to consider that maybe, just maybe, our Lord wants to interrupt us.
Perhaps we need to hear something, or see something, or simply stop what we’re doing because where it leads is not actually down the road that Jesus wants for us. And isn’t it possible that your greatest work could happen because of the interruption?
So sure, be annoyed momentarily that you could not accomplish what you set out to do, but then snap out of it.
Recognize God’s hand in that unexpected turn of events and get in on the act.