A Beautiful Interruption

I almost googled, “How to write a blog post.”  Almost.

Truth is, it has been a long drawn-out while. I met a lady a few months ago at a creamery/dairy farm three towns over.  Both of us bustling around with littles, she said, “Hey!  I follow your blog.  You haven’t posted in a really long time.” –Blank stare–

I gave something of a nervous laugh, and a “I know….I’m so sorry….It is so nice to meet you!  The ice cream is delicious, huh?”  (*Hey sweet mama!*)

Driving home on that hot scorcher of a day, I thought about her again.  How annoying would it be to start a book, read in a few pages, become connected in some way, and flip to see a blank page followed by a hundred more blank pages?  Just disheartening.

We all have a story. Yes.

And I neeeeeeeeed to write!  

~My first “back to blogging” post~

[But I have stilled and quieted my soul; like a weaned child with its mother, like a weaned child is my soul within me.  Psalms 131:2]

I have loved reading her words.

She was flying over the vast farm country of Manitoba, Canada.  Elisabeth Elliot.  While flying, she beheld the beauty of all the patterns one could observe from such an altitude.  Row, after row, after row, after row.  Circles and curves.  Colors of green and then earth.  Predictable, monotonous patterns created from the contour plowing.  Mrs. Elliot later wrote, “but the most beautiful designs grew out of the interruptions–a tree here, a pond there, a hill, a rock, a river.”

I didn’t have to turn the page before realizing her observation is not unlike the daily grind of a mother.

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Recently, our family woke to a Sunday morning of recovering sick people.  So, church was a delightful collection of Vacation Bible School songs and a timely lesson from 2 Corinthians 13:11 about living in peace with one another.  Right around the whitewashed dining table, thanks to my husband who teaches with brilliantly simple illustrations that little people, and big alike, get! We made a mess of things, like always.  (Because intentional family moments are not always neat and tidy.)  There was a Crayola explosion of markers and pencils scattered over white scrap paper laid over yogurt and egg-crusted placemats on top of orange juice that had leaked down under.  There were plates stacked on the edge of the counter like a whimsical layered cake gone bad.  Last night’s dishes graced the well  of the kitchen sink, and me?  I started to tie my apron strings.

The little ones found their way to the playground, undeterred by tummy aches and less than adequate energy.  Sick or not, they want to be outside!  Dolan joined them with biography in hand and ice water in the other, but only for a few minutes.  The back door creaked and then he interrupted my mindless cleaning routine.  “How about we both go out to the table under the trees and read together while they play?  It’s nice out.  Then, we’ll come in once it starts to get hot and I’ll help you!”

I almost said no.  (Because who really wants to watch children frolic outside, and come back inside to a war zone?) Didn’t he already know that? There was SO much to do!!  Mounds of laundry after so many days of not doing much of anything. And that kitchen!

But thankfully, God let me glimpse the beauty in this interruption.

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More time with him means I’m tending the fields of our marriage.  More time with them means more grins and smiles when they say, “Look mommy!!” And I can.  Another chapter read means I’m feeding my mind and heart.  A fresh summer breeze enjoyed means I’m nurturing my soul.  Songs of morning nature heard reminds me that this is my Father’s world.  

And I just can’t imagine coming to it all from a mere peering behind the kitchen sink window.  Interruptions are sacred opportunities.  A gracious gift for our busy hearts.

thankful,

~k.

 

Comments

  1. YES!! I’m so glad you’re back to blogging. You have been missed by so many, and ones you’ve never even met :) love this post! (And you!)

  2. beautiful, thanks so much for sharing and inspiring us to be interrupted. I left a mess of things inside the house this afternoon, to decorate our driveway with chalk with my 4 and 6 yr old and I’m so glad I did. I need to allow interuptions more often.

  3. Interruptions are sacred opportunities! Love this! And I’m also glad you’re back.

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