Interruptions

I'm a singular task-driven person. If I want to get something done, I typically prefer to focus on that one thing until it's completed. I am sincerely annoyed by interruptions; I see it as a barrier to finishing what needs to be done. 

Cue Africa mentality. 

Here, interruptions and disruptions are the norm.  

Exhibit A: 

After a long morning of painting at the orphanage, I ate lunch at main camp, then prepared to head back to finish a mural that afternoon.

As I was eating, I heard what sounded to be a truck pulling into a gravel driveway. I looked up, expecting to see just that, but was surprised at the sight of nothing. After it happened a second, then third time, I got out of my chair and walked toward the sound. 

I squinted my eyes, desperately trying to see what I was hearing. Then I saw what was almost mistaken as a cloud- a puff of white smoke hundreds of yards off in the distance. Was I hearing and seeing the signs of a brush fire? 

Because Amber and Jako were gone for the next few days, I went to Nate, the next person in charge, and asked, 'Do brush fires normally burn white?'

He left out the gate and went out in search for this phantom fire. He came back running. We broke out the shovels, filled the water tank, and organized our team members to help put out this 15 acre fire. 

Long story short, I did not finish painting the mural that day. But, because of that interruption, many of us learned how to put out a brush fire, we were bonded together as a team, and were in awe of God's power. 

Exhibit B: 

I am again at the orphanage, deep in thought, trying to decide which colors would be most esthetically pleasing in relation to the other murals. 

As steam spewed out of my ears, a 2 year old child came up behind me and watched as he made babbling noises. 

I could have very easily ignored him. But instead, I put down my brush, picked him up, and set him in my lap. We sat for a little while. Sometimes I sang over him, sometimes we giggled. But in that moment, I was able to love a child, and he was able to show me the face of God. 

An hour later after I again picked up the brush, one of the orphanage house moms, Ba Betty, shuffled her way towards me, showing off her dancing skill. 

A simple smile could have sufficed, after all, I was busy at work! But where would the fun be in that? 

So I again put my brush down and showed her how a makuwa (white person) breaks it down. We laughed, we enjoyed each other's presence, we lived. 

Unlike how the American perspective informs us, interruptions are really not interruptions at all.  They are divine appointments. 

Divine appointments.

Don't miss out. 

A child wanting to play, a driver going 5 under the speed limit in front of you, a raging brush fire infringing upon your property, your food taking longer than anticipated.  These are not to be seen as  inconveniences but opportunities. 

A chance to play. To slow down. To learn something new. To make a friend. To love. To live. 

A chance to see the face of God.