Jesus never made people feel like a distraction
By Emily King-Nobles ’25
13 Then people brought little children to Jesus for him to place his hands on them and pray for them. But the disciples rebuked them.
14 Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” 15 When he had placed his hands on them, he went on from there.
Jesus never made people feel like a distraction. Period. Not when he was busy. Not when he was tired. Not when he was annoyed. He always had time for people.
He rebuked the disciples for pushing people away. He longed for encounters with broken people. . .aka all of us. In our life, isn’t it just as important to not effortlessly wander through life, but to allow ourselves to be distracted? To be available? Every morning, there are people walking through life looking for just one reason to stay. One glimmer of hope. One sign that there is good in the world. What if you are that sign today? What if you are somebody else’s miracle? When I think about the story of my life, I want it to be that I was available. That I was interruptible. That you and her and them mattered infinitely more than that random homework assignment. After all, becoming successful and rich might be nice. But it’s not what’s going to change someone’s heart. It won’t make someone feel loved.
When I think about this story of the disciples trying to push “distractions” away from Jesus, I often think back to a day I had living in California. Fridays were my days off from nannying. A few months in, I started this routine of walking downtown every Friday morning, grabbing a cup of coffee and sitting in the downtown plaza with a book for hours. Throughout my time there, I would often get to know other locals and engage in many conversations. It was the most peaceful time of my week: my reminder to slow down. If you don’t have a forced change of pace like this in your week, I highly recommend it.
One Friday in particular, I was almost downtown when I got a call from my local running club that they needed me to bring in some roller skates I had borrowed a few days before. They needed them back asap to take back to the local rink. I had to walk the mile back home, grab the shoes and return to downtown where the store was. I made it back by 10:00, but with a slight feeling of irritation. Part of my morning was gone when all I wanted was the cup of coffee and peaceful habit I had grown accustomed to. After I left the running store, I headed for the plaza.
One crosswalk away from making it downtown, I encountered four friends I had gotten to know over the past few months. There was a rather large homeless population that lived in the plaza and I would often see them on my walks downtown. Normally, it was a pleasant 30-second conversation. On this particular day, they had lots of stories to share. As we kept talking, they pointed to a park bench where one of their friend’s bodies was being removed after finding him unconscious this morning. My heart broke for them and the never-ending cycle of pain, oppression and injustice that they faced. The weight of this world is overwhelming. Even as my not-quite-fluent-level Spanish was being tested, I stayed in these moments of heartbreak with them.
I left them about 20 minutes later and finally crossed the street to make it downtown. In the plaza, I ran into a retired couple I had gotten to know. They stopped to ask about how my nanny kids were doing. We again talked for a while. By lunch time, I finally made it to the coffee shop. I had a pleasant conversation with the cashier and placed my order. Success. That first sip of coffee seemed like Heaven. I was relieved to finally begin my peaceful day. Just as I was leaving the coffee shop, I encountered a man asking for money and food. While I was inside, I noticed him and watched as people walked by, avoiding eye contact at all costs. In his face, I saw Jesus. I couldn’t give him much, but I could notice him and acknowledge his existence on this earth. I handed him the granola bar in my pocket and my coffee before going in and ordering a new coffee for myself.
Leaving the coffee shop the second time, I knew I would finally be able to make it to my park bench to read. As I sat down, I noticed another good friend from town. I had just learned last week that her husband (who I had grown to know first) was recently transferred to hospice, rather unexpectedly. I walked over and asked her how she was doing. We talked (and cried) for a while. His looming death felt real in that moment, in a way that it hadn’t felt before. I took a mental note that I needed to start visiting him more often in place of our usual plaza visits as he was now too sick to walk downtown.
And then,
Then, it was 2pm.
I usually would’ve been back at home by this time. But I hadn’t even begun my reading or journaling today.
How lucky was I to get to interact with all of those people that day. It wasn’t on my agenda. But doesn’t Jesus work best when we give up our own agendas?
I have to be honest. Initially, I saw many of these interactions as distractions. I didn’t want to stop for them. After all, I had found a peaceful, holy, good for-the-soul practice and these interruptions were bothering that. They were intruding on my Holy time.
Yet, I’ve thought of this day many times since that Spring day in 2021. How lucky was I to get to interact with all of those people that day. It wasn’t on my agenda. But doesn’t Jesus work best when we give up our own agendas? That day surprisingly ended up being my favorite Friday and will always be my reminder to never be too busy for people. Something in my heart kept nudging me to stop and be present in all these conversations, as reluctant as I was to shift plans. How glad I am that I did, though. Had I not, I would have missed so many opportunities for connection, love and noticing people. When we open up our fists and give God back the reins of our lives, He does something pretty cool.
I also pause to think about all the people who change their days around for my needs. How glad I am that people stop and make time for me. Don’t others deserve the same? How am I reciprocating that for them?
Jesus’ mission: love.
Jesus’ passion: people.
It’s that simple. Slow down and love people. The cup of coffee can wait. Be distractible. Be available. Allowing your plans to change so that Jesus can replace it with something even cooler.
Mary Oliver once said, “Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me, what it is you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
I want my wild & precious life to be one that is available. One that is full of beautiful distractions and opportunities for connections.
May you be the hope someone is desperately searching for today.
Em