From Crisis to Crucifixion

Disclaimer: I have no idea how long this will be, it's been a while since I've been inspired to write and I hope you can bear with me. 

Now, I am no biblical scholar or theologian, but I would like to start here, with the account of Jesus' prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. 

Luke 22:39-46
And he came out and went, pas was his custom, to qthe Mount of Olives, and the disciples followed him. 40 rAnd when he came to sthe place, he said to them, t“Pray that you may not uenter into temptation.” 41 And he withdrew from them about a stone's throw, and vknelt down and prayed, 42 saying, w“Father, if you are willing, remove xthis cup from me. yNevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.” 43 And there appeared to him zan angel from heaven, strengthening him. 44 And wbeing in an agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground.7 45 And when he rose from prayer, he came to the disciples and found them sleeping for sorrow, 46 and he said to them, “Why are you sleeping? Rise and apray that you may not enter into temptation.”

Matthew 26:36-46

36 Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to them, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” 37 He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedeealong with him, and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. 38 Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.”

39 Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.”

40 Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Couldn’t you men keep watch with me for one hour?” he asked Peter. 41 “Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

42 He went away a second time and prayed, “My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.”

43 When he came back, he again found them sleeping, because their eyes were heavy. 44 So he left them and went away once more and prayed the third time, saying the same thing.

45 Then he returned to the disciples and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and resting? Look, the hour has come, and the Son of Man is delivered into the hands of sinners. 46 Rise! Let us go! Here comes my betrayer!”

A CRISIS is defined as follows:

                 1. a stage in a sequence of events at which the trend of all future events, especially for better or for worse, is determined; turning point.

          2. a dramatic emotional or circumstantial upheaval in a person's life.

I would dare to say what Jesus experienced here felt, to his flesh, much like a crisis, at the very least, I would have be tempted to declare crisis mode. 

Over the past six months most of anyone who hasn't hidden my posts due to a disdain for an overload of children or Jesus natured posts knows that we have taken on the circus-like feat of 7 children. This, to me, has felt much like a crisis. Hear me out before you judge what I just said. There are absolutely countless things that are far worse and heart breaking than someone raising children. No one in my home has died, been diagnosed with life threatening illness, been thrust into poverty or homelessness due to loss of income, or any of the life altering hardships that plague many, many people all over the world. We are well provided for, well loved, well supported and of good health. My life is, to the naked eye "hash tagged, blessed, you know?"( I say that with oozing sarcasm and satire, the deep misuse and misunderstanding of 'blessings' so frequently spouted like rainbow colored vomit is another blog altogether.) 

As I've mentioned many times before, anyone who knows me well enough knows that my calling to mother is a stretch by all means and something only the supernatural grace of God can accomplish through me. I'm basically an empty vessel in this arena, I have nothing to offer or add of my own in this area of expertise. I'm not naturally inclined to compassion, self-sacrifice, lack of sleep, poop, vomit or well, by-passing my insecure, co-dependent, broken, narcissistic, reckless propensities to provide for and nurture a plant, much less tiny human beings. But, here I am. 

I went into this fully confident in the fact that my life, my marriage and my desire to mother were well constructed, shiny and polished. I was in such a great place, exercised such self-control and was capable of keeping a somewhat substantial amount of order in my life. I was a part of an amazing church family, never missed a service and frequently found time for delving into God's word and praying when I felt like I needed to.  I was on top of everything and following through with this unexpected call to love on these three bonus babies in complete obedience and faith that God was orchestrating this entire thing and certain that I would come through victorious and over flowing with peace and joy. Self, "I just wish you weren't a liar."(Will Ferrel SNL reference, you're welcome.) I built a mansion of glass windows with my abundance of self righteousness, in my ignorance to the true destitution I was in; so proud of my humility and martyrdom. (Oxymorons at their best! Emphasis on the moron.) 

If you've ever squeezed a lemon or have an ounce of deductive reasoning in your head, you know when you squeeze a lemon, you get lemon juice. If you squeezed a lemon and sulfuric acid trickled out onto your hand and dribbled down your wrist, you might be quite surprised, maybe a little confused and perhaps, somewhat wounded. 

So, here I am, this bright yellow lemon. I get squeezed and much to my amazement, I'm leaking this corrosive substance onto everyone and everything in my life. 

This isn't how it was supposed to be. I was being obedient, I was being full of faith. I had put my quarter in and was expecting a big pink gum ball.  I had done my part- now when was he going to do his? I was sacrificing myself and Jesus wasn't coming through for me. Where was he? Why was he allowing this circumstance that HE called me to to press me, to produce toxicity?? (Self, again, "I just wish you weren't a liar.") 

And then, a moment of great, ugly clarity- When you are pressed and something ugly comes out, that ugliness, that toxicity  isn't being produced by the circumstance, it's being exposed by it. The bitterness, the doubt, the self reliance, the self righteousness, the judgment, the hatred, the unloving, unkind lack of grace and patience that joins the party is already resident in your heart. It wasn't invited in, it already lives there. 

Yikes. Stick that in your juice box and choke it down. Ouch. and Yuk. 

Luke 6:45

"The good person out of the good treasure of his heart produces good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure produces evil, for out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks."

Is anyone else here limping with me?

I can't even do justice to the broken, desperate state I've been in during this unraveling process. Crazy is a word my husband and children would probably use. I began finding holes in everything. In my marriage, in my roles as a wife and mother, in my motivations, in the position of my heart towards those who needed grace, in my prayer life, in my faith.... you name it, it was as hole ridden as a colander and I my entire existence was being sifted through it and then poured into a fire. Ashes began to scatter. 

The distance I stumbled upon between my existence and the biblical promise and command of life in the spirit was staggering. Something was missing. I often have a phrase infiltrate my thoughts, "It didn't take." (Self, "I just wish you weren't a liar.) 

I have exceptionally dark hair, I never get to do anything 'fun' with it because I would have to completely damage my hair to get it to be any exciting color, and by nature, I am a control freak with a phobia of commitment, so I don't do it. Before I discovered that at-home-dye-in-a-box was in fact a natural disaster you could purchase from a Walmart shelf, I attempted a few times to transform my loathsome locks into something more 'fun'. You guessed it, with my very limited knowledge of all things hair and lack of informed decision making skills combined with impulse driven actions, it always resulted in the same out come. It didn't take. There is this red filler stuff and gauges of color warmth and all that jazz that I now leave up to the professionals. 

All of that to say, this is seemingly what I had reduced my interaction with, personal response to and transformation through Christ down to. This systematic dye that camouflaged my flesh, that often times I would discover hadn't taken. I know, perhaps I am the only one who stumbles and fumbles and staggers blindly through this whole following Jesus thing in this magnitude of incompetence and ignorance, but just maybe, there are those of you out there who wake up wrestling the worst of  yourself every day. I mean, struggle-from-the-first-thought-that-enters-my-mind-before-my-eyes-even-open kind of wrestling match. So, these confessions are for you. You aren't alone in the Suck Squad and He is faithful.

I would venture to say that everyone finds themselves in this place that we opened up with, the Garden of Gethsemane. Gethsemane is a combination of two Hebrew words, GAT (means wine press) and SHMANIM (means oils) , it is taken to mean "the place where olive oil is pressed'', the literal translation is "winepress of oils".

 "At an olive press, olives were gathered into rough sacks and stacked one on top of another. A beam was lowered onto the stack and increasing weight was added to the end of the beam to press oil from the olives. The more pressure, the more oil." Sounds fun, doesn't it. 

So, we are starting to get the picture here, pressing, oil producing. 

I found this when studying this account of Jesus in the garden:

"Olive oil, in the symbolism of the Bible, is a picture of the presence of the Spirit of God (Gen 28:16-18 ). Oil was used for anointing priests ( Exo 29:7 and Lev 8:12 ), and kings (1 Sam 10:1 and 2 Sam 2:4 ). It was also used to bring light ( Exo 27:20 ) from the menorah in the Tabernacle in the wilderness."

Our pressing is productive. Our pressing is for our benefit and for the glory of our Lord and Savior. 

Hebrews 12 is one of my favorite passages of scripture. I am debating rather or not to post the entire thing, but I do want you to finish reading this, so I strongly suggest you look it up and read it. Maybe now. 

Here are a few excerpts:

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and wsin which clings so closely, and xlet us run ywith endurance the race that is zset before us, 2 looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, awho for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising bthe shame, and cis seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or efainthearted. 4 In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. 5 And have you forgotten the exhortation that addresses you as sons?

It is for discipline that you have to endure. iGod is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline?

For they disciplined us for a short time as it seemed best to them, but he disciplines us for our good, mthat we may share his holiness. 11 nFor the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields othe peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.

12 Therefore plift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, 13 and qmake straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint rbut rather be healed."

We are called to endure, for what purpose are we called to endure? For discipline. This does not mean God punishes us to teach us a lesson. There is no cruel connotation to this word. The King James version uses the word "chastise". The greek word is 'paideuo', thankfully you are not sitting here with me listening to me try to pronounce it. The word means, "instruct, train, educate, as an on-going matter, in accord with rules and proper conduct...". This process of enduring for the sake of discipline is to purge our hearts, our lives, of anything that brings us death, it is for the purpose of aligning us with his word to produce his own character in us. In short, it is to make us look more like him. The writer even concurs with the conclusion of our experience, "For the moment all discipline seems painful, rather than pleasing..." Without uncertainty we can agree. 

Because I am being honest with you, I will divulge something terribly selfish. There have been moments of vicious defeat and desperation in the past two months that I have thought, "I am going to have to ask CPS to place the children with another family." Some very unpleasant things were brought to the surface of my heart during this long season of sifting, pruning and purifying and it's not over yet, but at the very least, I have begun to see with sight that is not clouded by self justification and toleration of my own sin. Here's where I would like qualify what we call 'sin'. Most of us good, righteous Christians declaring salvation given to us through Calvary probably consider sin all the grimy things in our past that we are forgiven for, or the grimy behavior of a family member or neighbor that looks like having an affair, doing drugs, stealing, having an abortion, being a terrorist, hating the military, casual sex, cussing, drinking, maybe even dancing. (I took a few jabs there, sorry.) I don't know, but we would like to consider sin a type of debauchery that is far removed from us and reserve the right to judge the sin of others. The sin that we have tucked away in the dark corners of our heart may surprise you when it is uncovered and given a name. 

The most common translation for sin in the New Testament simply means, "Usually any act contrary to the will and law of God." So that levels the playing field quite a bit, now. 

Here are some examples of the logs  we ignore protruding from our own eye while we are busy gawking at the splinter in our neighbor's eye. 

Gossip?

Ephesians 4:29  Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.

Judgement?

James 4:12 There is only one lawgiver and judge, he who is able to save and to destroy. But who are you to judge your neighbor?

Thought patterns of worry, condemnation, fault finding?

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

The list is on going, the point is, no one will ever be holy enough to concern themselves with another's unrighteousness, and we should begin as David did before the Lord, in Psalm 139, "Search me, O God, and know my heart. Try me and know my thoughts, and see if there be any offensive way in me, lead me in the way everlasting." Are we so bold, (as Hebrews 4:16 urges us, Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need) to approach the throne of grace with confidence and be known by our Savior, Creator, to be exposed before him and placed into the consuming fire of his grace? Anything in us that is not Christ like, that does not line up with what the Bible tells us to be true about life in the spirit is sin in our lives. 

We like to justify our pet sin, we even give it a cute pet name, deceiving ourselves so that we never have to see it the way God does. Pornography, even in the form of novels? Gossip under the guise of prayerful concern? Being impatient and harsh with our children? Berating the waitress who got our order wrong? Yelling at the person who cut us off? Being un-submissive (and I don't mean submissive in the Stepford Wives way), and disrespectful to our husbands, usurping his authority  with our children, being dishonest concerning money issues, emasculating him with our words? Refusing to forgive someone who has wronged us? We have dozens of reasons why it's ok for us to live out of accordance with the word. It's sin. Call it what it is and allow the Lord to rid your heart of it. Freedom with a price is far better than comfortable bondage.

Along the way, I've had to come face to face with the sin that I was tolerating in my own heart. I've had to obey the Lord, deny my flesh and endure the instruction of his will and word. I'm having to endure until the yielding of the peaceful fruit of righteousness. I'm having to embrace the truth about myself, about my need, about my lack and about who Jesus is.  I'm having to "lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and  run with endurance the race that is set before me, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of my faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God."  

Back to our garden, the moment of being pressed beyond all grief, the moment the weight sets in and we cry out desperately pleading to the Lord to remove the cup, that single, solitary moment that stands between me and being lead to the cross. This is it, I know what lies before me, the unimaginable pain, the sacrifice, the precious cost, the temptation to succumb to fear, to finger pointing, to accusing God of being anything other than what he says he is.  The temptation to succumb to a crisis of faith, of identity..... a decision to say, "Nevertheless, not my will but yours." Earlier I explained that Gethsemane means "oil press", the more pressure, the more oil. May that be the case with us. With me. May the pressing produce an oil, an ointment of hope, of grace, of peace, of love that is the Holy Spirit. May my perceived crisis lead me to the cross for the crucifixion of self. 
“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me." Matthew 16:24-26

When trusting God hurts....

Trust is a tough one, especially in the face of adversary, pain and loss. Disappointment will set a vendetta against that word trust unlike anything else. We get our hopes set on something circumstantial and when it doesn't come through the way we thought it would or should, we crumble in a heap of heart break. We also place the blame on those we hold responsible, particularly when it seems like something God should have "taken care of" and it doesn't look the way we had anticipated it to look if he were, indeed involved and in control. I dealt with a few of those things this morning, a dear friend of mine sent me a text as she sat in the waiting room of a doctor's office, overwhelmed by fear that she would miscarry, for a second time, a baby she very much wanted- and she had. My daughter much to my surprise and her dismay was placed in third grade to repeat instead of moving on to the fourth grade. Don't get me wrong, I am not comparing miscarriage and repeating the third grade, but what I am putting in the same category is very real heart break and devastating disappointment- both to my 9 year old daughter and my sweet friend in her twenties. The truth of it is that no matter our age or which end of the spectrum of pain the events of lives fall under, each person's pain is very real. Each person's pain forms into the  question, "Why?". So, where do we go from this point? There is no answer in the midst of devastation that will alleviate the pain. We've all heard, or probably even half- heartedly said the obligatory, "God knows what He is doing." But how deeply do we believe this, when hearing it or when saying it? What comfort is it to believe that God is the creator and sustainer of life yet allows miscarriages every day? Sometimes we think we should rise above the pain of our situation and suffer well, translating that to mean we ignore the hurt altogether. Sometimes we try to purpose our pain, participating in a proverbial game of tetris with all of our disadvantages, disappointments and devastations, purposing that if we will situate all of our hurts just right we can fashion a meaningful end to all of it. I think I have found that sometimes things just hurt, they just do and hurting isn't wrong. I've found that I may not have a choice in the matter that allows me to exercise the control freak within and put my hands all over something to fix it, or to alleviate someone's pain. I've found that it's not always my place to explain away and justify the reasons that something bad or hurtful happened. I've found that I AM NOT JESUS. I AM NOT THE CREATOR AND SUSTAINER OF LIFE. I AM NOT THE GOD OF THE UNIVERSE WHO HOLDS EVERYTHING TOGETHER. It is not my job to spout off every verse I can think of to try to cushion the blow, or to pour liquid sunshine in the wound and Pollyanna my way through life insisting on playing the glad game with every suck situation I see someone in. Sometimes life just hurts and it's hard and the only choice I have in the matter is to weep with those that weep, to mourn with those that mourn. To pray with all my heart that this person will find that God is trustworthy and faithful, that He is sovereign and that while it seems harsh that God CAN prevent things that for reasons far beyond my understanding he chooses not to, He is still GOOD. I have to choose to rest in the truth that God knew Riann would end up repeating third grade and Jocelyn would move on to the fifth grade, and while she has spent the last several days crying and struggling through it, and I've spent the last week wrestling with insisting on them moving her forward any ways that I ultimately believe God has a plan and only he knows how he will use this in her life. We've gotten through losing her father, we will get through repeating third grade, but it may not be painless, or without frustration. I've had to accept that it isn't our responsibility or place to put purpose to our pain or anyone else's pain, it's God's and only he is able to make the transaction of beauty for ashes. I have realized that while in the midst of hardship myself, or seeing someone in the midst of their's I can only trust the Lord to love them as deeply as he loves me, to be as faithful to them as he has been to me, and to walk side by side with them as they work through all of the tough, all of the ugly, and to touch sacred places in them that only he can get to. The misconception that trusting God makes things hurt less or makes everything go right, the way we want them to, is a fraudulent representation of the gospel. Life would still hurt, whether I had Jesus or not, the difference is that in the midst of suffering I can believe that he is already orchestrating things that I am not privy to, to ultimately work things out for my good and for his glory.

Sometimes I say the "F" word.....

 Galatians 1:24 "And they glorified God because of me." 

         For most of you who are mothers and wives that are not of the Super Human DNA type, you can relate to those days, or weeks, or even months, that just turn out to be one of "those" moments in your life you refer to as "seasons" in hopes that you will convince yourself to grace through because surely it can't last forever. The ol' "This too shall pass" ointment meant to soothe the raw wear of life on your heart. I will preface the rest of this blog by saying, I'm about to hemorrhage all over the place, so brace yourselves. I do so, not because I am breeching the edge of a proverbial cliff and can no longer contain emotional stability, although I do have those encounters with myself, this is not one of those times. I am writing because I know being a woman is difficult. Being a mother is difficult. Being a wife is difficult. Being a Christian is difficult. Existing on this planet, in this life, attempting to fulfill whatever role you are in is DIFFICULT. And doing so while camouflaging all the ugly that our flesh and this broken world produces is damn near impossible. I said a cuss word. Because sometimes, I do. I have managed, through a lot of grace and perseverance from Jesus to participate with the self control that the Holy Spirit heaps out in great measure on my account, to rid our lives of the Hulk-esque transformations that used to make an appearance. But, occasionally, I say the "F" word. I don't say it to my children, I don't say it in the presence of my children and sometimes it's an exasperated, broken "F" word in my head. But it's there. Why all the bombs?, you ask. Because I am not perfect. I am not, by any means advocating 'cussing', or whatever that less-than-Christ-like behavior that occasionally makes an appearance in your life is, but I am saying I would be a liar and a hypocrite to pretend I don't have ugly that hangs out some times. I used to think being a Christian was about sucking in all my fat. Strapping on my spiritual girdle and prancing around with my shiny new penny look. Some of you get what I'm saying, and some of you don't. That's ok. This is for those who have struggled through the pretending to find the real thing in Jesus that you couldn't quite explain was missing. This is for every mother who has wondered what was wrong with her because no sleep and heaps of dishes and laundry didn't hurl her into a joyful tizzy.
    The past month has been a hum-dinger for me. Without exposing too many other people's hardships, as most of you know Cory and I are in process of gaining temporary custody of my two nephews and niece. You heard me right, and you probably, hopefully, added that up correctly. Seven kids. I know. To up the ante, they are all under the age of 5. Everyone thinks this is a crazy idea, WE even think this is a crazy idea. In fact some people are probably secretly waiting for me to fall flat on my face in this, you know, in a concerned, love-of-Jesus sort of way where they're just so worried about you because they can't wrap their minds around such a radical display of obedience and love. And that's ok, too, I've had to work through a lot of 'letting it go', thank you Frozen.  This entire ordeal has caused as you can imagine, some strains in personal relationships. Some disapproval. Some disappointment. Some unforeseen costs, externally and internally. My own children are responding to the weight of such a huge decision in their own ways, which are inevitably adding a dysfunction to our house hold. Everything is pretty disheveled at the moment.
        I am unsure of a lot of things. BUT I am certain of some things, and those things matter so much more than the pressure, pain, sweat, blood and tears of walking this out. GOD HAS NOT LEFT ME ALONE IN THIS. GOD HAS CALLED ME TO THIS. GOD HAS GONE AHEAD BEFORE ME. HE IS WORKING ALL OF THIS, EVEN THE HARD STUFF, FOR MY BENEFIT AND FOR HIS GLORY.  Galatians 1:10 says, " For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ." The reference to pleasing man also refers to pleasing myself. My life always looks absurd to many people on the outside, sheesh, it looks impossible to me most days. I used to have these grandiose imaginations of my serving God in foreign countries, hugging on babies in remote villages, speaking with passion and eloquence on stage in front of thousands of women, teaching Bible studies, heading up women's groups or young adults' going ons. I have learned, at times, painstakingly that my mission field is right here. It's being the absolute clearest view of Jesus to my children, of the Grace of Jesus to the doubters, neigh-sayers, and fellow-strugglers, and of a beacon of joy, light and hope to the darkness in the world around me and to the darkness I come across that's within me at times. Sure, I say the "F" word (gasp), and Jesus loves me any ways, he doesn't bat an eye at my ugly. It doesn't shock him or deter him in the least now that I've laid my spiritual girdle down and don't bother trying to suck it up and suck it in. We bleed, sweat, cry and work it out together. Paul talks about beating our flesh into submission. Oh boy, is it a beating some days! But Romans says where sin abounds, grace abounds all the more. Beautiful, precious, amazing GRACE. Despite all my efforts, desires, failures, victories, pains, sacrifices, poor character, and intentions gone awry, I truly have only one desire, may others see me and glorify God because of me. This realization reels me back in, keeps me anchored, may I ever keep my eyes on Jesus. How I love him.
        In summation, if you can relate to this, congratulations, you're alive and you're human, and you see your need for the Savior that gave himself for you. The victory over this life is already at hand, hidden in Christ. Does that mean that you get one of those obnoxious Flash passes Six Flags offers to bypass the waiting, the heat, the pain, the reality, no, of course not because until you leave this planet you're subject to its brokenness. The victory in Christ means you endure this life with hope, joy, purpose in your pain and loss, and that the glory to God to come far exceeds any cost you endure in this life. Be encouraged, friend.

When no one draws the line to being online.....

It occurs to me, my house is all too silent, as I look up from whatever it is I am doing, I notice all four of my kids are sitting on the coach with the television on, staring at their iPod touches. I am annoyed. "Ok," I say as I click the t.v. off, "everyone give me your iPod." Sighs, grunts, and even a fit later, I have collected all the technological nemeses in the house. I have resolved that while technology is very beneficial in many ways it has also become the antagonist of childhood. We just bought our daughters (8 and 9 years of age) a cell phone, I know, we are those parents. Hear me out, we have no house phone and have begun the rat race of extra-curricular activities, it will at times be necessary for me to get ahold of them and vice-versa. It will only have basic functions, texting and calling, and will be in my possession 90% of the time, with very invasive attention to how it is used and to whom they are talking to. No boys, limited conversation time and no over night usage. Now that I feel adequately justified in being one of those parents, I will say this, it's a constant conflict. We realize that being technologically in the know is just part of being raised in 2014, however, we don't want to raise those kids, after all, we survived just fine playing outside and waiting until the next day to communicate with our friends at school (face to face, I might add.)
I believe that as a society we have allowed it to impair us, not only as relational human beings, but especially as parents. We were not raised with the constant distraction of screens being shoved in our faces, the glorious convenience and very real danger of having the entire cyber world at our finger tips, and are, ourselves, so mesmerized by it we have grown ignorant and lazy when it comes to our babies and their devices. My two year old started coming up to me and pushing my arm, phone in hand, insisting, "Phone. Down." I thought it was amusing for a second until utter conviction flooded me. We teach our children what is important. Why do our 18 month old children know how, to our amazement. unlock our iPhone and flip through our myriad of apps to locate their's? Why do they sit silent and entertained staring at shows, playing games, and giving us a moment of peace? "Well, they're learning!", we say. It IS, indeed incredible how quickly these little sponges of curiosity mimic and repeat for themselves our behavior. They ARE learning, but what, exactly are they learning, and at what cost? The art of losing yourself in hours of outside, imaginative play is a dying one. It's too hot, it's too cold, they need a drink, they want to take a break?? Really!? Take a break from playing? We have singlehandedly raised a generation of convenience and comfort gluttons.
I can't tell you how many conversations I've had on Facebook with people I never see in person. While it's nice at times to connect with social media, I've watched it become an ever increasing outlet for validation seeking, drama, cruelty, humiliation and not only escaping, but denying reality. I find myself, at times, while watching t.v.,  laying in bed, playing with the kids, running errands or in the car almost subconsciously, habitually checking my phone- Facebook, email, those little numbers that pop up on your apps, etc. etc., you name it. We have forgotten how to rest, how to be in the moment that we are in. We have forgotten how to have verbal conversations and relate to people who are right in front of us. Any given time a room full of us are together, I can't even count how many times we are half-heartedly nodding at the person in front of us while staring at our phones. It isn't even socially frowned upon any more to make a few minutes worth of eye contact during a visit and cut a person off to text someone else. How often do we put our phones down and connect with the cashier at the grocery store? Seriously, it's gotten out of hand.
Rather than calling people we haven't seen in months, maybe even years, to invite them over to catch up, it's become the cultural norm for all of us to have a degree in on-line stalking. How creepy. My ten year high school reunion was in October and none of us even had to fill one another in on our lives, we all knew each other's business like we were neighbors. Somewhere along the way, innocently and unintentionally I'm sure, in the frenzy of posting photos every five seconds of our lives and everyone in them we have lost the value of moments that are significant, private, shared only with the few people who happen to be present and capture it themselves. Things have become less personal. Sadly, at times for a good laugh, we exploit our children, our spouses, even the overweight person in front of us in a grocery line. We not only cease the moment to bully our loved ones, but perfect strangers, as well. The sarcasm and satire all of us can relate to has no filter on social media sites. Our abuse and careless engagement of technology has created generations of irresponsible cowards, in my opinion. An entire society that doesn't understand the cost of our actions, our words, and the way they affect other people. We've also given license for anyone, any where to say anything about anyone. The lack of reverence and respect for people in general, for our elders, for children, for spouses, for our places of employment is disheartening at the least. Social media has also done some wonderful things, kept me in touch with wonderful people, allowed me a place to support and encourage others and talk with people that offer me the same encouragement, but I see it as being more of a distraction than a benefit. If anyone of the people I speak with or maybe even haven't spoken to yet, would like to be friends... in real life, please never hesitate to reach out to me.