I’m seeing a pattern with one of our sons. He summons my attention, usually with just a grunt or some cute little sound. Without fail, it’s when I’m in the middle of a thought, or having a quiet time, or I’m trying to write something down before I forget it.
I’ll be having my quiet time, and from my doorway I hear, “Mama!” Or a grunt. Honestly? Too often, my first response is a heavy sigh. I turn, because it’s expected, and make eye contact with the boy.
Connect with him.
Often, that’s all he needs . . . the reassurance that we have a connection. He needs— craves— the affirmation that I, his mother, can offer to him.
I struggle with wanting to stay in the flow of what I’m working on and without the interruption of my boy-child.
There are times when I want to shut out everything and just complete the task I set out to accomplish. Interruptions cause me to lose my place, lose my focus, and get frustrated with what, or who, caused this to happen.
What I really need to remember is that our boys aren’t interruptions, they are answers to years of prayer. They are only this age once. They’re both nearing those teen years, that season when they won’t seek my attention, or care about if I think they look handsome in their uniforms (Boy Scouts and football). They won’t need that connection with me in the same way.
I’m realizing the gift their interruptions can be. I need to be about building and maintaining those connections with our sons. When I offer them a smile, a word of encouragement, it solidifies their foundation . . .
. . . their sense of self,
. . . and their sense of belonging in our family.
This is crucial as they struggle to figure out who they really are, who they’re designed to be.
Should I still set some boundaries around my time? Yes. But, interruptions are sometimes God’s way of reminding me of my own need for connection—with my family and with my Father. How many times have I “interrupted” Him with a prayer request, or a shout for “Help!” or an, “I love You.”?
Has He ever said, “Not now, Jeanne. I’m working on something.”?
He listens to me, my prayers, exuberance, heartaches.
And He comforts me.
He takes time out of running . . . well, everything . . . to listen to one small daughter.
Yes, He’s God, and I most certainly am not. But, His example is one I want to emulate with our boys.
Being available to them . . .
Giving them the affirmation they need . . .
When they need my attention, I want to give it. Because in doing so, I’m speaking—showing— love to them. And that’s one of the greatest gifts I can offer.
What about you? What’s your perspective on interruptions? How do you handle them when you are in the middle of something that requires your attention?