There
are times when we have no words of our own. But we always have the Word and the
words of other believers. I found this article on www.christianitytoday.com and it
reminded me of my own catalyst moment when I realized my anger was due to my
own selfishness. Since that moment and realizing the sin of my selfishness, I
have been free of that anger and frustration that comes from those
interruptions in life. Okay, mostly free. It still is a struggle during those
days when my hormones make things abnormal but I face those difficult days with
more hope, more peace and more strength knowing God is with me and will lead me
if I let him. I watched a co-work literally almost explode this week from the
stress of the mountain of workload that got dumped on her and interruptions were
setting her off. The next day she posted a sign saying no interruptions until
next week trying to head them off. Our own management of these interruptions of
life and the stress we are under will take us only so far because we are
created to work with God and let Him take these burdens. So, I will be praying
for my co-worker that she may find the peace that transcends all understanding
in Jesus Christ. Read this article below and let me know your thoughts.
I
love poetry: to read it, to write it, to get lost in the language and the
pictures. To savor the fragment that doesn't seem big enough or long enough,
and yet it captures everything.
I
love poetry, and in honor of National Poetry Month—and in keeping with the
spirit of poetry, a shared, often oral tradition—I want to share with you a
poem that has recently captured me. A poem that startled me with its haunting
picture of simple generosity. Here it is:
Night
Train Through Inner Mongolia
Now
the child is a runny-nosed stranger
you've finally decided to share your seat
with,
and the whole thing keeps heaving into the
dark.
The child sleeps unsweetly hunched against
you,
your side is slowly stinging, he has wet
himself,
so you do not move at all. I know you.
You sit awake, baffling about a quirky faith,
and do not shift until morning.
This is why you are blessed, I think, and
usually chosen.
—by
Anthony Piccione, from his book The Guests at the Gate
I
want to savor those last lines. They pierce me. I am challenged by this unknown
passenger who would sit so silently and generously; who would give up comfort
and personal space.
Am
I so willing?
I
find sometimes there is very little flexibility around me. Almost everywhere I
go and in almost everything I do, I have an agenda, a purpose, and a mission …
and I hate to be interrupted. And I'm not just talking about when I'm working,
or writing, or running an errand. Of course I hate being bothered during those
times. But I'm even talking about the times when I'm at leisure: taking a walk,
reading in a coffee shop, fishing at a lake, reading my Bible. Even in those
times when I have no pressing timetable, I'm hostile to interruption. Please
leave me alone, I have no room for your need.
I
bypass the beggar to avoid the confrontation, I ignore the widower on his walk
around the lake as I bait my hook and turn away, I open my book and pay no heed
to the child in the plane seat next to me.
What
is wrong with me? When did I become so selfish? How could I be so cold to the
humanity that surrounds me?
I
see no such hostility in the life of Jesus. In fact, I see only a welcoming of
interruption. Consider his interactions with the woman at the well—a
conversation he welcomed when he was hot, tired, thirsty and hungry. Or how about
the centurion who stopped Jesus and begged for Jesus to heal his servant? Or
the bleeding woman who touched his cloak for healing—he paused and called her
out, not wanting to miss the opportunity for a deeper encounter.
I
could go on.
Now,
I realize that I can't stop for every person I encounter—that I can't sit and
have lunch with everyone who asks me for money, or engage in a conversation
with each person in the coffee shop. And I'm not Jesus, so I don't know when an
interruption is an opportunity … and when it's just an interruption. But the
question is: am I even willing to find out? Am I willing to let the Holy Spirit
stop my schedule and interrupt my self-centeredness? Would I honestly welcome a
strange and dirty child to huddle against me? Would I sit patiently if he made
a mess on me?
I want to be this warm, this willing, this
generous. So that I might be chosen. That God might use me to bless others.
Proverbs 16:9 The heart of man plans his way, but
the Lord establishes his steps.
