Loud quiet.That’s what fills the silence most days. Glancing through Twitter feeds, scrolling through Facebook updates. Joseph plays and I half-heartedly watch, glancing at my right hand, never without my iPhone. Always updated, always connected, alwaysmostly present.
My iPhone. My glorious, glorious iPhone. The handheld device connecting with me never-ending streams of updates — and a disconnecting me from the present.
Quick quips from online personas are not real life. As soon as it’s posted, another takes its place. For me, they’ve become a toxic time suck — a gateway into a land where I can judge + roll my eyes, all from the safety of my phone. All while missing out on seeing my son match the fire truck puzzle piece into the puzzle.
I don’t want to waste my time scrolling through 140 characters.
I’m ungluing. I deleted Twitter + Facebook for 40 days.
Disconnecting so I can connect.
This is nothing new. I know. People do it all the time.
But I never have. I don’t want to, but I need to.
Because I want and needto spend quality, undistracted time with my family. My friends. My savior.
What better time than the lenten season?
I don’t want to waste my little bits of free time Facebook stalking. I have an amazing son to teach + cuddle + love + watch grow. A husband to laugh + dream with. Friends to confide in + encourage. And on a more practical level, toys to pick up + laundry to fold. (Can I get an amen?!)
The temptation to sneak a peak has already been difficult. It’s so much more convenient to flip through the noise of a Twitter stream than it is to wrestle with the silence of God. Or to actually spend time being.
Here’s to reflection. To looking inward instead of watching from the outside. To fasting from the noise to hear what really matters.
I woke up this morning to big brown eyes staring at me. A round little body in dinosaur footie pajamas sprawled on my pillow. Soft, chubby fingers gently touching my face. I spent this cold February morning under warm blankets, cuddling with an astonishingly cute and incredibly curious 18-month-old.
I changed a couple of dreadfully dirty diapers. Used thousands of tissues to wipe his runny nose. Exhausted every trick convincing him to drink his apple juice.
I started this Valentine’s Day the same way I start every day. By being Joseph’s mom.