I remember years ago being in a McDonald’s in downtown Chicago. It was busy, loud, and crowded like it always is in the city. I stood in line watching a lady order food for herself and her small daughter. She was swinging on the little girl, yelling and cursing her out right there in front of everyone. People started staring, whispering, shaking their heads. You could feel the judgment in the room.
I got my food before they did and went to find a seat. I sat down, opened my bag, and put a few fries in my mouth. Just as I was about to swallow, I noticed the woman had sat down with her daughter. The little girl snatched her food from her mother’s hands and ran off to a corner so she could eat in peace. And right there, as I tried to swallow that bite, something happened. My throat started to close, and I could feel the love of God swell up so strongly in my heart that I almost choked.
I knew immediately—God was interrupting me. His compassion hit me like a wave. I spit out my food, got up from my seat, and walked right over to that woman. I didn’t know what I was going to say, but I knew I couldn’t ignore that moment.
I sat down beside her and told her what just happened. I said, “God loves you, and He’s so concerned about what you’re going through that He literally stopped me mid-bite.” I asked her what was wrong, and she looked at me—tired, heavy, worn. She said her son had just been falsely accused and put in prison, and she couldn’t get him out.
Here I was, sitting next to this strong, stocky Black woman who had clearly been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. And when I told her how God had interrupted me for her, she broke. All that toughness melted away, and she began to cry—deep, uncontrollable tears. I took her hand and prayed right there in that crowded McDonald’s.
And you know what? The atmosphere shifted. The same people who were judging her started to quiet down. The same space that held judgment just moments before began to hold grace.
That day changed me.
Can Jesus interrupt you? Can He speak through your ordinary moments? Would you even recognize Him if He did? So many of us walk around with eyes that can’t see and ears that can’t hear. We look at people through the lens of behavior instead of brokenness. We react to the symptom and miss the story.
How would most people have seen that lady? Angry. Loud. Out of control. But God let me see her pain. I didn’t see her sin—I saw her sorrow. I didn’t see her attitude—I saw her anguish. And that’s how Jesus sees us.
I’ll never forget that encounter as long as I live. I’ll always be grateful that I obeyed God in that moment. I’m thankful I didn’t join the crowd of silent judges but chose to sit next to her instead.
When someone is acting out, can you still cover them? Can you look beyond the surface and see like Jesus? The next time someone offends you, frustrates you, or seems unworthy of grace—pause. Let God interrupt you. Because that interruption might just be someone’s divine encounter.