RELATABLE: The Power of Walking Slow in a Fast World
BEFORE YOU BEGIN
This week is for anyone who’s ever felt like life is one long sprint.
For those who are:
Racing the clock.
Checking tasks off a list.
Wondering if there’s room to breathe, let alone love people well.
This devotional is about a Savior who wasn’t driven by hurry but by holy interruptions. It’s about what happens when the moment you’re tempted to rush past… might actually be the moment God wants to use most.
Here’s how to engage this week:
Start with the Scripture reading.
Read the reflection slowly—let it speak to your pace.
Take time with the journal prompts. Don’t rush them.
Pray the prayer at the end to reset your heart each day.
Ready to slow down? Let’s go.
DAY ONE: The Crowd is Crushing–But Jesus Still Stops
READ Luke 8:42b–45
“As Jesus was on His way, the crowds almost crushed Him.
And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years, but no one could heal her.
She came up behind Him and touched the edge of His cloak, and immediately her bleeding stopped.
‘Who touched Me?’ Jesus asked.
When they all denied it, Peter said, ‘Master, the people are crowding and pressing against You.’” (Luke 8:42b–45, NIV)
REFLECTION
Jesus was on a mission.
Jairus’ daughter was dying.
Time was running out.
The crowd was so thick Luke describes it with a word meaning to choke or strangle.
Yet in the middle of that chaos… Jesus stops.
He stops for a touch no one else noticed.
He pauses for a woman who wasn’t even speaking.
Think about that.
Twelve years of bleeding.
Twelve years of whispers.
Twelve years of feeling invisible.
And with one tiny reach… this woman interrupts the Son of God.
But here’s the miracle behind the miracle:
Jesus wasn’t annoyed by the interruption—He was available for it.
We live in a world obsessed with speed.
Faster. Bigger. More efficient.
We measure value by how much we can produce.
We feel guilty if we’re not maximizing every minute.
We get twitchy if our to-do list sits unchecked.
But Jesus shows us something radical:
Interruptions aren’t always distractions.
Sometimes, the interruption is the assignment.
Jesus wasn’t just on a mission—He was interruptible on the way.
And that challenges me.
Because I love a plan.
I love feeling productive.
But how many times have I missed the person God put in my path… because I was racing to my next task?
How many people in my life feel like that woman:
Wondering if they’re worth someone’s time.
Hoping for one moment of being truly seen.
Jesus models a different rhythm.
He moves through a crushing crowd, but He still notices one silent reach.
That’s the kind of love the world can’t explain.
JOURNAL PROMPT
Where in your life right now are you moving so fast that you might be missing moments God wants to use?
Think of one recent “interruption.” Could it have been an assignment from God rather than a distraction?
PRAYER
Jesus, I confess—I move too fast.
I chase schedules and squeeze minutes.
But You weren’t driven by hurry.
You stopped for people others would have ignored.
Teach me to slow down.
Teach me to notice.
Interrupt me if You have to—and help me see the person You’ve placed in front of me.
Help me remember that sometimes the interruption is the real assignment.
In Your name, amen.
DAY TWO: Seeing Beyond the Surface
READ: Luke 8:46–48
“But Jesus said, ‘Someone touched Me; I know that power has gone out from Me.’
Then the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and fell at His feet. In the presence of all the people, she told why she had touched Him and how she had been instantly healed.
Then He said to her, ‘Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.’” (Luke 8:46–48, NIV)
REFLECTION
Twelve years of bleeding.
That’s not just a medical issue.
It’s a label.
She was “the woman with the issue of blood.”
She wasn’t invited.
She wasn’t touched.
She was kept outside the community.
But notice what happens when she reaches for Jesus.
He stops everything.
He could have kept moving.
He could have let her slip away, healed but unnoticed.
Physically, her problem was solved the second she touched Him.
But Jesus wasn’t content with a silent miracle.
He wanted a personal moment.
He calls her forward.
He listens to her story.
And then He does something even more beautiful:
He calls her “Daughter.”
Let that sink in.
For twelve years, she’d been known for her issue.
But in one sentence, Jesus gives her a new identity.
He doesn’t call her “Unclean.”
He doesn’t call her “Interrupting.”
He calls her family.
Jesus didn’t just heal her body—He restored her dignity.
Because He didn’t just see her problem.
He saw her personhood.
And that’s the challenge for us.
Because if we’re honest, we’re quick to label people by:
Their failures.
Their quirks.
Their visible struggles.
But Jesus sees beyond the surface.
He sees the story behind the symptoms.
The wounds behind the walls.
The child behind the choices.
He doesn’t just fix issues—He restores identities.
Imagine if we lived like that.
That coworker with the attitude might be carrying grief.
That friend who keeps canceling plans might be battling shame.
That person who seems “extra” might simply be craving belonging.
Interruptibility isn’t just about slowing down.
It’s about seeing deeper.
Jesus didn’t just stop for the woman.
He saw her.
And He spoke a word that changed everything:
“Daughter.”
JOURNAL PROMPT
Who in your life have you been labeling by their issue rather than seeing their story?
What would it look like to call out identity in someone instead of just reacting to their behavior?
PRAYER
Jesus, thank You that You don’t define me by my worst moments.
You call me Son. You call me Daughter.
Help me see people the way You do.
Help me look past labels and into hearts.
Give me eyes to see stories, not just symptoms.
And let my words call people into freedom, not keep them stuck in shame.
In Your name, amen.
DAY THREE: Trusting Gods Timing Over Your Own
READ: Luke 8:49–50
“While Jesus was still speaking, someone came from the house of Jairus, the synagogue leader. ‘Your daughter is dead,’ he said. ‘Don’t bother the teacher anymore.’
Hearing this, Jesus said to Jairus, ‘Don’t be afraid; just believe, and she will be healed.’” (Luke 8:49–50, NIV)
REFLECTION
Let’s put ourselves in Jairus’ shoes for a moment.
His daughter is dying.
Every second matters.
He’s gotten Jesus’ attention—that’s the miracle he’s clinging to.
Then Jesus stops.
Not at the house.
Not at the bedside.
But in the middle of the street… for someone else.
And while Jairus is waiting, he gets the worst news a parent could ever hear:
“Your daughter is dead.”
From Jairus’ perspective, it must have felt like the delay was a disaster.
But Jesus looks him in the eyes and says,
“Don’t be afraid; just believe.”
That sentence is radical.
Because from our human viewpoint, delays feel dangerous.
They feel wasteful.
They feel like God is letting things slip through the cracks.
But Jesus sees the story differently.
He’s not panicking.
He’s not late.
He’s not wringing His hands.
Jesus lived by Kairos time—not just Chronos.
Chronos is measured in minutes.
Kairos is measured in moments of divine purpose.
Jesus trusted the Father’s timing enough to love people well—even when the crowd screamed for speed.
That’s what this story teaches us:
You don’t have to choose between compassion and calling.
God’s plan has enough time for both.
Sometimes the thing you think is slowing you down… is the very thing God wants to use to deepen your faith.
Jairus wanted a quick miracle.
Jesus was about to show him a greater one.
He thought he needed Jesus to move faster.
But what he really needed was Jesus’ presence in the waiting.
And so do we.
Because loving people like Jesus means:
Trusting that interruptions won’t derail your destiny.
Believing that God’s timing isn’t always fast—but it’s always faithful.
Knowing that delays are not defeats in the hands of God.
So let me ask you:
Where do you feel like God is moving too slow?
What if the wait is part of the miracle?
JOURNAL PROMPT
Is there an area of your life where you’re frustrated with God’s timing right now?
How could trusting Him in the delay open space for deeper faith—and for loving people better in the meantime?
PRAYER
Jesus, I confess—I often measure life by the clock instead of by trust.
Teach me to live at Your pace, not mine.
Help me believe that You’re never late, even when I feel like I’m running out of time.
Show me how to love people in the moments that feel inconvenient.
And remind me that sometimes the delay is the place where faith grows deepest.
In Your name, amen.
DAY FOUR: Your Not An Interruption–You’re The Reason He Came
READ: Luke 8:47–48
“Then the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and fell at His feet. In the presence of all the people, she told why she had touched Him and how she had been instantly healed.
Then He said to her, ‘Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.’” (Luke 8:47–48, NIV)
REFLECTION
One of the most powerful moments in this story happens in a single word:
“Daughter.”
Think about it.
This woman had been:
Avoided for twelve years.
Labeled “unclean.”
Living on the edges of community.
She wasn’t supposed to be in that crowd.
She definitely wasn’t supposed to touch a Rabbi.
In her mind, she was an interruption.
But Jesus stops, looks her in the eyes, and calls her family.
“Daughter.”
One word changes everything.
He doesn’t say, “Woman who caused a delay.”
He doesn’t say, “Lady with the issue.”
He says, “Daughter.”
Because in the kingdom of God, you are never just a problem to be solved.
You’re a person to be loved.
You’re not an interruption—you’re the reason He came.
Let that settle in your soul.
Because some of us feel like the woman in this story:
We don’t want to be a bother.
We’re bleeding on the inside but trying to stay invisible.
We think Jesus has bigger things to deal with than us.
But Jesus isn’t annoyed by your reach.
He’s drawn to it.
He didn’t just let the woman touch Him and keep moving.
He called her out of hiding so she’d know:
She’s seen.
She’s valued.
She belongs.
And here’s what’s even more beautiful:
Jesus didn’t just heal her body.
He restored her identity.
He gave her a place back in the family.
And that’s the Gospel.
Jesus didn’t come just to fix your problems.
He came to call you Son. To call you Daughter. To bring you into belonging.
And if He did that for her… He’ll do it for you.
JOURNAL PROMPT
Where in your life have you been believing the lie that you’re “just an interruption” rather than someone Jesus loves deeply?
What would it mean to live today like you’re truly a son or daughter of God?
PRAYER
Jesus, thank You for seeing me.
Thank You for calling me Son. For calling me Daughter.
For not letting me stay hidden in the crowd.
I confess that sometimes I believe I’m an interruption.
But You remind me I’m the reason You came.
Help me live out of the identity You’ve given me—not my shame, not my past, not my failures.
Let me see others the same way You see me.
In Your name, amen.
DAY FIVE: The Ultimate Interruption
READ: Luke 8:54–55
“But He took her by the hand and said, ‘My child, get up!’ Her spirit returned, and at once she stood up.” (Luke 8:54–55, NIV)
REFLECTION
Let’s rewind to where this story started.
Jairus’ daughter was dying.
The clock was ticking.
Every minute mattered.
And then… Jesus stopped.
He stopped for a woman no one else saw.
He slowed His pace for a story no one else valued.
And while He was speaking words of healing to her…
Jairus received the news no parent ever wants to hear:
“Your daughter is dead.”
From the outside, it looked like the delay cost the miracle.
But Jesus said,
“Don’t be afraid; just believe.”
And He kept going.
When He reached the house, the mourners were already wailing.
People were certain it was too late.
But Jesus took the little girl by the hand and said,
“My child, get up.”
And life came rushing back.
This is what Jesus shows us in this story:
God’s timing is never too late for resurrection.
He’s not trapped by our clocks.
He’s not limited by our sense of urgency.
He doesn’t panic when things look dead.
Because resurrection is what He does.
And here’s the bigger picture:
The ultimate interruption wasn’t just for Jairus’ daughter.
It was the Cross.
Jesus didn’t just stop for a woman in a crowd or a child in a bedroom.
He stopped heaven’s glory for you.
He let Himself be interrupted by our sin.
By our brokenness.
By our shame.
And He carried it all the way to Calvary.
He let His body be broken so ours could be made whole.
He poured out His blood so we could go in peace.
And when the world thought the story was over—when darkness declared it was too late—Jesus rose.
Not just to prove a point.
But to prove His love.
So today, as we finish this week:
Remember—Jesus didn’t just stop for the woman.
He stopped for you.
Your story isn’t too messy.
Your timing isn’t too late.
Your wounds aren’t too deep.
You’re not an interruption.
You’re the reason He came.
JOURNAL PROMPT
Where in your life have you believed it’s “too late” for Jesus to show up?
How does knowing Jesus interrupted heaven for you change the way you see your worth—and the worth of others?
PRAYER
Jesus, thank You for the Cross—the ultimate interruption.
Thank You for stopping for me, even when I felt too far gone.
Thank You for proving that it’s never too late for resurrection.
Help me live like someone worth dying for.
Help me slow down and love others the way You’ve loved me.
Interrupt my plans whenever You want—because I want to walk at Your pace.
In Your name, amen.
