As anyone in the Facebook generation knows, losing your phone is tragic. No more numbers, no more ringtones, no more texting, no more contact with the outside world. It can be quite a nice thing to be without a phone -- it's like fasting, but with technology -- but that's not always the easiest thing to remind yourself in the moment.
I bring this up because my phone was gone, gone, gone the other day. I went through the classic thought process: where was the last time I saw it, did it ever leave my room, etc. I knew it was in my bedroom somewhere. I flung the covers off my bed. Nothing. I checked the insides of shoes. Nothing. I checked places it couldn't possibly be, just to feel like I'd done a thorough search. No dice.
Then I heard the phone vibrate. Is there a moment in my life where you listen as intently as when you're listening for your phone? I bent over, my chest parallel to the ground, contorting my head so as to move my ears as close to the ground as possible. Then it hit me --
If I really want to hear God's Word in everyday life, if I really want to hear Him give instructions on my life, I need to listen intently for Him...not for the vibration of an incoming text message.
Darn it.
1 comment:
So, where was the phone?
I wonder if listening intently becomes less necessary in time--kind of like how, when you have a friend, after awhile you don't need to spend as much energy figuring out what they mean. Not that you stop paying attention to the friend's communication, but you just know what they're saying because you know him or her so well as a person.
Post a Comment