I was the last person on the planet to get a smart phone. Truly. Aborigines were posting pics of their dinner on Instagram before I was. I was fine with my outdated analogue dinosaur and its limitations. And I kept asking, “Why is everyone in such a hurry to see what everyone else is doing?” I dug my feet in for years and said no to the tech revolution.
But I caved in eventually. My dinosaur died and I upgraded.
The purchase of my first real smart phone was predicated on the embarrassing truth that I get lost . . . a lot. I’ve lived in the same town for 21 years and I still get lost within a mile of my house. So I rationalized the new addition to my life by saying “It’s going to help me get home on time.” And it did. I loved Siri and every conceivable app to help me lose weight, get in shape, organize articles, and even help me grow with God. Maybe I had been too quick to judge.
But then a shift happened in my soul. Not too quickly.
I was surprisingly excited to get online and follow people on Twitter and Facebook and whatever narcissistic tool was available to me. It was fun to engage and poke and read people’s rants. Not long after my purchase I found myself needing to get online. That’s right. I needed a social media fix. It turns out my little addiction was real. In fact, one of many studiesshows that the average American with a smartphone gets online (Facebook, Twitter, Instragram, etc…) over 100 times a day. This isn’t just a hobby anymore. This is addiction. Harvard Neuroscientistsare linking social media habits directly to the habits of cocain addicts. Like any addiction I found my best energy, emotions and affections were now all being directed at social media. In fact, I was hungry to see how many people had liked, retweeted, or responded to my insightful thoughts. Sadly scientists, not theologians, were the first to see how dangerous a longing for external praise from social media could be.
So I lobotomized my smartphone.
After weeks of deep conviction by the Holy Spirit I relented. I had been told my soul had cancer and I only had one real treatment option. Like any life threatening disease I was told by the Physician of Heaven to “cut out the tumor” or die a slow and painful death. My phone now looks smart, but is as dumb as any old bag phone. No browser. No social media apps. I still need to be able to get home so Maps made the cut. A few apps from pastors and writers remained as well because they help spur me on to love Jesus more fully. But otherwise, it’s a very expensive paperweight.
I already feel calmer, more at peace. The tug of having to know what is happening around me is lessening with each day. The call of God and the cause of the kingdom resounds louder now that I have turned down the volume of everything else.
