Interrupting the Flow

I love being interrupted when I’m in a flow. Really? I hear you ask. No, of course not. It’s really quite annoying!

That’s exactly what happened last week in my work schedule. The church community that I’m part of, held a week of prayer as part of the 24-7 Prayer Global Week of Prayer. We used a former Church of Scotland building called St Mary’s in the picturesque village of Whitekirk in East Lothian. I’ve always loved a prayer space, it’s not a chore for me to be part of one. It’s a rare moment to retreat from the world; to turn our focussed attention towards God, either alone or with others; to look within and to look afar, to pray for the healing of people, communities, and division; to pray for peace and for restoration; and maybe even do it creatively with the help of well-crafted prayer stations and prompts.

However, this one, whilst I was looking forward to it, arrived at a bit of an inopportune time. I had volunteered to co-host a few of the sessions, as well as lead a short pilgrimage. This meant I had to ‘squeeze’ it all into my normal working week. I hadn’t quite factored in the juggle required to do this successfully. It’s so true when people say, you can’t add anything into your life without first getting rid of something.

But it’s these ‘interruptions’ that, when we look back, often hold a dear and sacred place in our hearts. I was in the workflow with a task list as long as my arm, when it was time for ‘tools down’ and to head out to pray! What a glorious and holy interruption indeed, if we’ll let it be, if we’re open to be interrupted.

Jesus was. He was constantly interrupted……and he went along with it. So many amazing encounters happen in the gospel narratives because he was willing to be interrupted. He’s walking along the road, a blind guy calls to him and he stops; he’s walking through the crowd and a woman touches his garment, he stops to find her; he’s trying to get a drink from a woman at a well and ends up staying a few days in her town, teaching and eating with the townsfolk! These are holy moments played out in ordinary contexts with ordinary people.

In the achievement-addicted culture that we’ve curated, it’s easy to get swept up, only being satisfied with another tick on the list, or with tangible results in our hands. So stopping the flow becomes a courageous and defiant act of resistance, one that requires discipline and intentionality to lay aside the agenda and move the focus onto something else, someone else.

This is what prayer does, and it really helps us to realign to Jesus and to what is important; it helps us to reassess the ‘why’ behind the ‘what’, to remember the One who calls and leads us. It reminds us to lift our gaze to God, turn our attention, our affection, and our prayers to others around us.

So, there I sat in the silence of the prayer space at the old Whitekirk. It’s a beautiful building that was once a place of pilgrimage itself, as well as being en route for those travelling south to maybe Lincoln or Canterbury, and then even onto Rome or Santiago de Compostela. There I sat, taking up the invitations to pray for peace around the globe, pray and lament for the climate crisis and the damage we’re doing to very seas that I could almost smell from my seat; pray for our local communities and churches; to also look inward, to the very dwelling place of the Spirit and to hear the words, I am loved and I am worthy!

But I was there as a host too. And what a joy to welcome others, a group from Hungary who were return visitors; a couple from our town who hadn’t stepped foot in a church like this for years; and three pilgrims from New Zealand making their way to the Holy Island of Lindisfarne, walking the length of the Forth to Farne Way.

Of course, in the topsy-turvy way that the Kingdom operates, I had less time for my work that day, and yet was somehow more productive, more productive after I had laid down my own agenda and was willing to be interrupted by the call of Jesus to pray, to welcome others, and to fix my eyes upon him.

How do you respond to interruption, or when things don’t quite go according to plan? Could you pause for just long enough to ask Jesus where might the invitation be in that, where it is gently held within it? Where might there be a possibility for something truly life-giving and sacred woven through? You may just find a beautiful encounter waiting for you.

Grace and peace,

Jon

Jon Timms

Joint CEO, Rural Ministries