Over the last several months, most of my writing has taken place in my head.

In fact, I planned to write a post entitled Three Thoughts but decided brevity might be a wiser choice, and will instead share simply one of my thought bubbles.

One of the reasons I haven’t written on a keyboard is I began a new job at the end of October. With Caleb’s exit to a college campus, I knew obtaining a job was around the corner, and although my heart hoped the beginning of 2023 would be my entry point, an opening arrived by way of a dear friend, and the opportunity was too perfect to ignore.

 I am working in the registrar’s office at a small university which couldn’t feel more akin to my daily assuming the role of a student.

At a recent staff meeting, I shared how this has been one of the most challenging transitions but also the easiest. It’s hard to fully explain my dueling feelings.

Despite being repeatedly reminded I will not know the job until I have worked a full-year cycle.  The scope of the job is extensive and the learning curve feels steep and slow.

For me and my default personality, this is quite challenging. However, I feel grateful that God would have led me to this place, at this time, and for this purpose. He has ordered my steps along with my heart.

During my interview when asked one of those dreaded questions about areas in my work life that could use some work, I mentioned my proclivity towards wanting every box to be checked at day’s end.

My interviewers softly chuckled because they were aware of the hit-or-miss nature of box-checking in the role I sought.

At the four-week mark, I had a DAY.

It was a day when I couldn’t get my footing. 

I couldn’t get a handle on my day or any semblance of organization.

It was a day when any time I felt a sliver of traction was being made, several new tasks, projects, or emails collided with me.

I felt overwhelmed because I couldn’t keep my day tidy and manageable.

The precious woman I replaced, told me she had succumbed to tears during her first week. Well, somehow I made it four weeks before my eyes started to glisten, just a bit.

The day after that DAY, I was chatting with the Registrar and she asked me if my day had gone better. I nodded to confirm.

We laughed as I reminded her of my interview confession about liking to check all my boxes to which she said the following:

Each day we make a list and put a box next to it. Then as the day goes on and for example, a student calls for advice and you spend an hour talking with them and this was unanticipated. You simply hang up the phone, add another box to your list and check it off. 

A couple of years ago, I endeavored to not view interruptions as negative, believing that whatever I was working on or involved in was too important to be disturbed. 

I am still learning.

This piece of advice has continued to percolate through my mind and over my days. 

How I view interruptions and the level of how much control I desire to exert over my days stands in direct opposition to my desire to be present. 

Do I believe a day is only worthy if I have controlled every aspect?

Could it be possible for a day to be heralded because it was full of unforeseen opportunities and connections?

I write in a five-minute journal often and each page is divided by day and night. 

The day section reads:

• I am grateful for…

• What would make today great?

• Daily affirmation. I am…

The night section reads:

• 3 amazing things happened today…

• How could I have made today better?

I suppose if I read through this journal, I would see how often the day section was about striving and the night section was about reveling in what I couldn’t have imagined or envisioned. If I am completely candid, many days could have been made better by being more patient and at rest.

Passing along this thought today may feel like bad timing. This is a season full of celebratory interruptions after all. 

Many of us can feel a bit upended from our regular routines and despite how good it is to have seasonal shifts, it can create a bit of stress and overwhelm.

I wonder how different this season might look if we allowed ourselves to accept the unseen boxes each day presents us, maybe even welcome them into our hours.

It might be the neighbor who texts with a spur-of-the-moment hot chocolate gathering when you had plans to put your feet up.

Or a loved one is under the weather and could use a personal Door Dash.

There are all manners of unknown boxes that may land within our carefully constructed days, I am learning not to squint at them with my usual disdain but instead look for bits of wonder instead.

I often think about Mary, the mother of Jesus. An angel visited her bringing a box full of news she was most definitely not anticipating nor was she planning to check off while she basked in her pending betrothal. 

She faced rejection.

She faced scandal.

She traveled miles to the place she would labor.

She brought forth the Wonder of the world.

She was willing to be interrupted.