My wife and I just returned from a holiday that was, apparently, “unique” for me. Glenda insists it was. We set off without every detail locked in—some nights we hadn’t a clue where we’d land. And I discovered, rather quickly, just how fond I am of having every bolt tightened and every plan neatly in place.

Most leaders like a good plan. We map out our days, guard our calendars, and take quiet pride when we manage to tick every item off the list. But if you’ve walked with Jesus for any length of time, you know He has a way of stepping into our tidy plans and redirecting our path. The truth is some of God’s greatest Kingdom moments come disguised as interruptions.

When Luke tells the story of Jesus on His way to heal Jairus’s daughter (Mark 5:21–43), he’s not describing a leisurely stroll. We have a desperate father begging Jesus to hurry. Time is precious. The crowd is pressing from every side. And in the middle of this urgent mission, a woman who has suffered for twelve years reaches out and touches His robe. In our modern way of thinking, this is the moment a leader would say, “Not now. I’m busy.”

But Jesus stops. He turns. He listens. He engages. He sees her, and in their exchange, her identity is transformed from a suffering, unclean street person to “Daughter.”

It’s a powerful reminder that the Son of God, on a life-and-death assignment, was interruptible. What His followers saw as a distraction, Jesus saw as the ministry itself. He understood that His Father’s plan was not just about the destination, but about the people He met along the way.

Being interruptible doesn’t mean being disorganized or sloppy with our responsibilities. It means living with a heart that is open to the Spirit’s nudges, even when they show up at awkward moments. Those nudges often sound like this: “Send that text.” “Stop and ask how they’re really doing.” “Offer to pray.” “Give them five extra minutes.”

I’ve watched this play out countless times in leadership and mentoring. People rarely book appointments for their deepest needs. They show up sideways, in half-sentences and passing comments. They’ll shrug and say, “It’s been a tough week,” hoping someone will care enough to ask one more question. When we’re moving too fast, we miss what the Spirit puts right in front of us.

Acts 3 tells another story of interruption. Peter and John are heading to the temple at the hour of prayer. This is the spiritual equivalent of being on time for church. A lame man interrupts their stride, looking for spare change. Peter could have tossed a coin and kept walking. Instead, he stops. He looks the man in the eyes. And God uses that moment to change a life and ignite a witness that shook the city. All because two disciples were willing to pause.

 

So how do we cultivate this posture? Here are three simple practices that help:

1. Hold your schedule loosely.

Make plans—good ones—but acknowledge they belong to the Lord. “We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps.” (Proverbs 16:9, NLT). When a need crosses your path, don’t assume it’s an accident.

2. Watch for people, not just tasks.

Often, the most divine appointments come wrapped in ordinary faces: your neighbour taking out the bins, a coworker lingering by the coffee machine, a stranger whose eyes tell a story they won’t say aloud. Slow down long enough to notice.

3. Trust that interruptions may be invitations.

Not every distraction is from God, but many are opportunities for Kingdom kindness. When you feel that inner nudge, take the risk. Offer the prayer. Give the encouragement. Share the hope you carry in Christ.

 

Jesus modelled a life open to the Father’s interruptions, and the world was changed by the people He stopped for. If we’re serious about following Him, we must learn the same holy flexibility.

Your plans matter—but people matter more. And the Spirit still whispers in the middle of crowded days, leading us toward moments of grace we’d never plan on our own. May we walk slowly enough, and humbly enough, to hear Him.