Grr, interrupted

I did a lot of growing up back in Hong Kong, spiritually most of all. Having been 90% unchurched up till then, even though I was baptised at 18, one thing that really caused a growth spurt was the discovery of spiritual disciplines (John Ortberg’s The Life You’ve Always Wanted held transformative power for me). Then the Alpha course through its basic apologetics freed my mind to face challenges to the gospel while embracing its illogic. Since HTB London, where Alpha originated, keeps its horizons wide open, I was also introduced to 24/7 prayer (Brit-style, wot), and the point of this post: the Lord’s Prayer at 12 noon.

It was perfect for my 10ish-to-6/7/8/9, etc. work schedule. I set my alarm to 12 noon, and no matter what I was doing at my cubicle (95% of the time I would be ensconced there at 12 noon), I would hunker over in a corner and mouth the words (in English … Biblical Hebrew by the end of this semester, I’ve been promised!). Unfortunately, I can’t interrupt my 12 noon anymore, not while I have classes and not while I’m rarely in quiet places quite enough to realise the alarm has gone off. (But hmm, maybe I should interrupt my allotted 24 hours at 12 midnight instead.)

Well, the point of this all is, the deeper I sink into my studies, the clearer it gets how deep and wide and high and far these words of our Lord take us towards Him. So while there is the danger of taking Him and His words for granted, and the everyday muss and muddle can just about twist the blood from your nose, blurring your vision and choking your voice, and sometimes your prickly self will just want to get it over and done with (whatever and ever, amen), may I suggest interrupting your day, your oh-so-important train of thought, with a planned moment of forgetting yourself, to return home to the everlasting gathering of voices raised in the name of the King? Isn’t every other moment in your life an interruption of this one?

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