I’m just noticing how my everyday tasks fill in my day.
How no matter how much time I a lot those tasks, they seem to fill in my time plus some. I think that’s because of the interruptions.
A dear friend used to say, “Our interruptions are our ministry.”
As I was walking through the house to get the cleanser to clean the toilet I stopped many times…
“Stop fighting!”
“Come here, you need a hug.”
“Clean your room!”
“Stop smearing Play-Doh on the window!”
“Now, why did I come down here? Oh yes, to straighten the kitchen… I think.”
I bend over to pick up the food dropped on the floor, wipe off the window smeared with orange, and pick up the Lego, dropping it into my pocket.
“What am I doing? Oh yeah, getting the cleanser to clean the toilet.”
Taking the stairs, two at a time; I long to fight these interruptions. I just want to finish something without stopping. I recognize the frustrated, angry feeling well up inside me. I drop off the Lego into its box and go to clean the toilet. Finding it needs the plunger; I pick up the dirty laundry on the floor and drop it off in the hamper on the way.
The dirtiest thing isn’t the toilet, it’s my attitude!
I think I hate interruptions.
I pick up the Polly pieces and stick them in my pocket before the vacuum gets them.
How in the world could they be my ministry?
I throw in another load of laundry. I restart the dryer, the towels are still wet. I get the plunger.
“Honey, help your sister.”
“Boys you’re doing a great job.”
I feel like a wet towel, a stopped up toilet with a displaced heart.
I clean up the toilet.
I’m a messy job but God makes quick work of getting the cleanser without much delay.
I picked up this mantle when I picked up my blanket wrapped little ones that now drop too much toilet paper in the toilet and too many toys and food on the floor.
So my ministry began to ones who don’t yet give back, ones who interrupt, ones who stir-up trouble. Ones that can appear to be interruptions.
I decide to leave the cleanser under the sink, put away the Polly’s in my pocket and have my littlest ones clean up their new mess of scissors and markers.
Like them, I find I go from one mess to another and find time escapes me to catch the ones that fall through the cracks, like the paper shreds through the cracks between the table and its leaf.
I feel Gods cleanser strip me as I pick up and scrub our own grime away.
I stop the mundane to give direction, to feed a hungry heart, to clean up an attitude…
Sometimes mine.
Yup, this is my ministry and as I walk by and look at my sparkling toilet…
I know it won’t last long. I pick up the blanket on the steps, throw my mantle over my shoulder, and carry it proudly.
I know that soon they won’t carry blankets, play with Play-Doh or Lego's, or leave the toilets to me,
But for now, I minister to these who interrupt and are learning to obey and not fight with their siblings, doing and teaching them all I can...
Until God will be the one to minister to their attitudes His cleanser,
Until their wills shine for Him,
Until He sits back to appraise His reflection in their eyes,
And until they pick up their own life's mantle, and possibly blanket wrapped little ones,
That He lays out for them.
Until then, my interruptions are my ministry…
