The Lord has been placing this writing at my table for some time and I’ve been avoiding it. “It will take too long,” and “I definitely will write that, I just can’t do it right now,” excused my complacency and enabled me to continue using the housework, the kids, the study time I’d already completed that day to placate the urgency with which I knew this topic was being applied.

And so, interrupted from my study at the table this morning to nurse two sick kids back from the pukes and entertaining the toddler to keep her from tormenting her older sisters’ already anguished states, here I am writing on interruptions.

The time change in Ohio is a booger for us. I try to incorporate it as organically as possible, and ease the kids into bed a bit sooner or later depending on the season, but that hour of difference causes a ripple of change in the consistency of our household rhythms. When they’re up like clockwork at 6:15 everyday, all of a sudden it’s 5:15 and they’re wide awake as they typically are, the hour hand is just pointing somewhere different. Thankful for the steadiness of their circadian rhythms we pick up at 5:15 and resume our day to day systems in that earlier hour until it’s postponed again in the fall.

What was my 6am study time is now in a state of effective interruption.

I have these images, ideals of time and space that I cling to for stability and regularity. The kitchen is one. When my counters are smudged and dishes are piled in the sink I commit my time to the Lord as soon as the work He’s given me to do is done. I’m no perfectionist, by any means, and while there are other areas of the house that don’t require my immediate attention (unfolded laundry eyes me from the hamper at the back of the bedroom) there are certain tasks which I feel must be brought up to code before I can approach the throne of grace.

Thankfully the Lord does not require the cleaning up of my life before approaching Him. In fact, the opposite is true. Jesus said, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls (Matt. 11:28-29).” Jesus wasn’t referring to an actual weighted object, like the yoke of an oxen, He was referring to the weighted position of sin in our lives. When we consider these words in light of the weight of the cross, suddenly our to-do list seems strikingly small and insignificant in comparison to the weight of the yoke Jesus carried. Rather than suggest we need to carry our own weight, or accomplish a series of duties in order to clean ourselves up to approach Him, He says, “I will give you rest for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.”

As a mom of three girls being pulled out of my train of thought, away from my Bible and pen, into tidbits of conflict and derision the portrait being painted here is the same position, gentle and lowly, as Christ demonstrated for me through his life, death, and resurrection. Jesus’ ministry was interrupted by Pharisees who sought to trick and trap Him, by Sadducee’s who challenged His authority according to the Word, which He was and is (John 1:1) by his friends and family who disbelieved His claims to be Messiah, and ultimately by the same people who He came to save, when they turned Him over to Roman authority and death by crucification on the cross.

Jesus did all these things while healing the leper, while multiplying a fish and some bread to feed thousands with baskets leftover, while restoring sight to the blind, and hearing to the deaf. He did all these things while weeping at the graveside of a loved one, who he already knew was not dead only sleeping; while casting out demons, and seeking the sinful and lost to dine with him; to walk with them, and to instruct them in righteousness.

Amidst all of this, Jesus withdrew to be alone and to pray. His list of tasks was much larger than mine. The demands and need for Him far outweigh the demands and needs placed on me. Jesus fed thousands, he healed innumerably, He was interrupted in the home of friends where he was teaching via the ceiling on the sole merit of the faith those coming to Him had to heal their paralytic friend. Not once did he wave his hand in dismissal. There is not one example of Jesus responding in complacency or frustration to the needs placed on Him. Even still, while responding gently and lowly to the needs placed on Him, He was able to set the demands aside and seek the will of the Father.

As a mom, I’m called to seek God’s will for me and for my children amidst the distraction and interruptions so that I may demonstrate the gentle and lowly spirit of Christ through me, that they may see Him despite me, and seek a relationship with Him that trusts in who He says He is. That calling is a crucifixion to self on a moment by moment basis. With each squawk of, “mom,” from another room, with each overturned breakfast plate and syrupy blanket that now needs thrown in the wash (cue the already neglected laundry from the corner) with each plate that piles into the sink next to the open dishwasher I have a choice to imbue that opportunity to reflect Christ to my children with the cleansing blood of Christ’s grace, gentle lowliness, and goodness or I can quip a snap at them about personal responsibility and command their consideration of me and my time with the curt inclination of my flesh to succumb to the inconvenience of another item now piled onto my to-do list.

We are called to, “whatever we do, do it all for the glory of God (1 Cor. 10:31).” This includes setting aside the need for a tidy to-do list because, for me, that’s really a reflection of a heart that seeks ultimate authority of my own life and circumstances. This includes responding gently and lowly to my children even when it’s the third spill or the eighteenth point of discord between siblings. This means forsaking the satisfaction of my flesh in order to put on a spirit of humility and responding in all circumstances to the glory of God.

“The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise (Psalm. 51:17).” God will not despise our brokenness and our mess. In fact, the opposite. Because of the broken body and blood of Christ I can come boldly before the throne of grace where I will receive mercy and grace in my time of need (Hebrews 4:16).” Because of this, I know that God uses the interruptions to my day, the distractions, inconveniences, stresses, and everything else my flesh would like to sink it’s teeth into and use to justify anger, frustration, complacency, and, rather, He will use these moments to sanctify me that I may bear good fruit for His glory and for my good.