Annoyance overcomes me when I’m smack-dab in the middle of writing and I’m interrupted. Just when I discover the right words that I’ve been searching for, I hear the familiar sound: “Knock, knock, knock.” But it’s not a hand-meet-door kind of knock, it’s one that David makes with his tongue to mimic a knocking noise. It’s the sound of someone who needs attention. “Come in,” I huff. We talk each morning and then I send him away so I can resume writing.
My first morning in North Carolina, I woke up at my usual time to catch an early glimpse of God and to write. With pillows positioned behind my back and laptop in hand, I began writing. Ah, no interruptions today.
As the sun slowly peeked over the horizon, I looked up from my screen and glanced out the window. Something was missing. That morning knock. Suddenly I was longing for the loving noise that calls to me each day, I’m lonely, I miss you…wanna talk? I sighed in regret of my daily irritation.
At the first session of the conference, I wrote in my notebook quoting the speaker. “In a culture that moves fast, I pray that your ministry will be slow, durable and beautiful. The best things we build are the things we build slowly. Love that your family is a limit to your work.”
Then I wrote these words in the margin: “I love that David is a limit to my writing. Help me to welcome his beautiful interruptions, despite my deadlines.”
As I reflected on the plane ride home, I smiled in anticipation of seeing him. I thought, Tomorrow morning will be different. I will replace annoyance with appreciation. Knowing that nothing is more important than my ministry as a wife and best friend. Nothing.
Tomorrow morning will be different. The sign on my door will surely read, “Come in…we’re open.”
“Go after a life of love as if your life depended on it—because it does.”
(I Corinthians 14:1 MSG)