While in Hawaii, my daughter and I rode the bus a good bit.  Waiting at the bus stops or traveling to our destination, I had time to look around the beautiful island of Oahu.  These were pleasant breaks in our day.  We often talked about the morning or the coming day.  During other intervals, we simply sat silently watching people.

Even though I value promptness, I enjoy broken days.  Taking time to enjoy the moment feeds my soul.  A fresh breeze, a quiet pause, the sunlight coating my face and arms.  It is told that Susanna Wesley, mother of John and Charles Wesley, would often take her apron and put it over her face.  During those times, none of her 19 children were allowed to disturb her.

One of the most valuable things, the mentally challenged community has taught me is to enjoy the moment.  Rejoice in the broken days.  During those precious times, the strains of the day are lost.  It’s a time to refuse worry about the world economy to invade your mind and soul.  The future and the past can be neatly tucked away like unused luggage because only the moment remains.

While preparing for bed last night, I received two phone calls.  One was from an ailing friend, who was returning my call.  The other was from a fellow employee advising me of a change in her schedule.  I’ve learned that I rest best when I spend about an hour in the evening getting ready for sleep.  The phone calls were welcomed and necessary but they broke my prep time.  After I hung up the phone, my mind began to fret because I was now wide awake.

Quickly I got out of the bed and took a few steps back into my preparation for sleep.  I reminded myself of the benefits–and necessity–of broken days.  Paul tells us to “rejoice in the Lord.”  Then he repeats his admonition, “And again, I say, ‘Rejoice.’”   None of us have the luxury of perfect schedules or unbroken hours.  Therefore, we can learn to look and listen, rejoicing and becoming refreshed by the breaks, enveloping them into our times of rest, rather than fretting about the interruption.