Life Interrupted

Over the past eight or ten years, I have been privy to several unforeseen, (for lack of a better word)

… interruptions.

One particular interruption involved yours truly, a bicycle, and well…

I had just taken up peddling, and began with short circuits of my neighborhood. Since then I have accumulated over 10,000 miles in three years, but my entre into biking almost ended as quickly as it had begun.

I was coasting along a nearby street when a small terrier darted out of the yard of the worst looking house in my neighborhood. And not yet being adept in “all things bicycle,” I attempted to outrun the silly dog. The faster I peddled, the faster he scampered. Ultimately, the pooch circled around the front of my bike, and either purposely, or by chance my front tire slammed into the unsuspecting canine’s ribcage.

You know that theory once espoused by the most intelligent man of our time?

(“For every action, there is an opposite, but equal reaction.”)

Well, I can tell you… there’s something to it!

When I came to I was lying prostrate on the asphalt, and my left arm was twisted in a position it was never meant to assume.

What followed that accident was a long season of healing and recovery.

And then there were the slightly more momentary and innocuous, but meddlesome and downright embarrassing interruptions.

They say time heals all wounds, but I think the emotional ones must heal slower than the others. And I admit the following memories still sting a bit; simply because of my responsibility in the mixture, and my inability to protect those near and dear to me.

As a pastoral counselor I offer a leadership program which I’ve provided to dozens of young and not so young people preparing for formal and informal ministry, and/or college and graduate school. 

One of my interns, Alyssa, had just completed a year-long course of study under my supervision, and I’d set aside an hour after morning worship to laud her for her efforts, and present a completion certificate to her. We met in the church fellowship hall. Ten or twelve family and friends were in attendance. The celebration included a few remarks by none other than me, myself and I, and subsequently, Alyssa rose to summarize the program, and her perspectives thereof.

Things were going “swimmingly,” and as the ceremony drew to a close, I suggested we offer up thanks to God. No sooner had my audience bowed their heads, and I was a microsecond from closing my own eyes, and saying, “Our Father,” when I saw his reflection in the door window.

Bam! Our church clerk, “Mr. J.R. Benson” came charging through said door. Well, almost. Having pushed it open a couple of inches, I slammed that 6x3 in his face, and shouted,

“Hold on! We’re a little busy in here!”

Given the interruption, but considering my reaction, I felt both humiliated and vindicated.

Then there was the time I invited a former intern, Rita, to perform a mime/dance for the first of many classes I once taught at a local university. My students set aside their books, Rita assumed her place, and nodded for me to start the music. The melody began, and one of my two or three most memorable, and beloved interns of all time proceeded to “strut her stuff.” Rita was so much closer to the end, than the beginning of her rendition, when suddenly, Wham!

A female professor from next door came charging through the door. (This time I hadn’t a clue she was preparing to intrude into the “holy of holies” ‘til she stood fuming in the threshold).

“You’re disturbing my class! The music is blasting through the wall like its cardboard! Please turn the volume down!” And with that, she lumbered back out the door.

This time there was only humiliation.

Interruptions

Good, bad or indifferent, they’re part and parcel of life.

There’s an old Coke commercial which extols “The pause which refreshes.” But I can tell you from long and painful experience that more interruptions, (or pauses, if you will) than not, are anything but refreshing.

Amazing, the number of times I have recalled the previous events, and they are apt examples of so many other interruptions I have experienced along the way, and which we will all experience on “this side of the veil.”

Upon reflection, and perhaps more often, than not the interruptions in our lives are more humorous when recounted, than when encountered. And I tend to think that God somehow builds these interruptions into our lives to test our patience, to teach us lessons which we would, otherwise, never learn, or to set the stage for some unexpected change in direction. 

And who can say, perhaps He takes some pleasure in the ironies and idiosyncrasies of our lives, and more often, than not His laughter resounds throughout heaven, and echoes across the endless span of His universe.

By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Vol. 24. Copyright pending

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