Disconnected

As impossible as it may seem in today's over-connected world, I often feel completely disconnected. Sure, I have a smart phone with wifi and a great data plan, bluetooth and GPS in my car, and a smart TV that not only has channels of shows to watch, it is connected to wifi and can stream Netflix, Amazon Prime, Spotify, and countless other applications.  My husband and I each have our own laptop, also connected to wifi, and I have a Fitbit to track my exercise and my husband has a GPS-capable watch.   I use FaceTime and Facebook, What's App, and Instagram, Skype and messenger, sometimes simultaneously, and often on two different devices (like right now I am typing on my laptop while my phone charges no more than 10 feet away...just in case, ya know).  I video-chat with my children and grandchildren on an almost daily basis, and texting has become my preferred method of nonessential communication.  

Now, before one of you points out what an oxymoron it is to blog about being disconnected, since being connected to the web is essential to blogging, let me throw out this little disclaimer:  I really love being connected.  I embrace technology and truly believe all these gadgets and gizmos and apps have purpose, and usually a good purpose.  My problem doesn't lie in accepting technology; my problem lies with being so oversaturated with technology I sometimes forget how to relate without it.  Especially when it comes to staying connected to God, connected enough to hear His voice, to feel His presence, and to understand and accept His plan for me.  

I am not talking about setting aside x number of minutes to read the Bible (although that is important), nor am I prescribing a set amount of time at specific frequencies to pray (yes, prayer is good, too).  Most definitely I am not saying technology disconnects us from God.  Nope.  It is the human part of staying connected that requires tweaking.  (Great....I just used a techy word...tweaking).   Sadly, there are days when I must remind myself to pray before checking my Facebook status, and to open the Bible and ask for the Holy Spirit to teach me before I open my laptop.  When I am driving, I have to consciously, methodically refrain from turning on the radio or making a phone call as soon as I get in the car.  And I am pretty sure I would eat less (or eat better) if I left my phone off the table, or at home when we go out to eat.  Wait...am I saying I should just drive in the car?  Or eat and actually talk to people I am with?  Gosh, just concentrating on writing this little post takes great composure, as every 30-60 seconds a little window on the top right pops up telling me I have a new message or email or Facebook like, Instagram comment, or calendar reminder.  

Yes, at times I even rationalize my technology addiction, vainly trying to convince myself how I can be connected to God while reading Facebook memes, or that I really don't spend all that much time on my phone.  Maybe I am the odd one out here...maybe most of y'all have figured out how to allot the perfect amount of time to our Creator, and to each other, while still using and appreciating the gift of technology. Perhaps you could share that formula with me, and help me figure out how to pray unceasingly, and to keep God foremost in my heart and mind and soul.  

Being connected is great.  Having a really great data plan is awesome.  Poor connections suck.  But being connected to God is eternal.  

So is being disconnected.

On Mercy and Fairness

Setting a Christian example.  Turn the other cheek.  Establish good boundaries.  Love each other.  Do unto others.  Stand up for what you believe.  The struggle is real, people.  Trying to filter through the seemingly conflicting messages.  Add to that human expectations, no, human tendencies, no, MY tendency, for wanting life to bend to my desires.  The unquenchable thirst for fairness in this life threatens at times to consume me; I hold up situations, circumstances, and the actions and thoughts of others up to some nebulous yardstick of fairness, and cry out "NOT FAIR!" or smugly smile and say, "See? I was right!"  Consumed with the selfish need to prove my point, to get what I "deserve," for life to be fair, for others to see where I am coming from, I stop in my tracks, shamefaced.  Fairness?  Do I truly want fairness in this life?  Do I really want what I deserve?  Am I so blinded by the quest for fairness that I have left mercy in a cloud of dust behind me?

I stop dead in my tracks, stricken by the incongruence of fairness over mercy.  Were God to dispense fairness, to give me what I deserve, I would be crushed, condemned, hopeless.  Nothing I do or say or feel can cover my sins.  I would fall before His throne, before the throne of judgment, and He would banish me from His presence.  I would get what I deserve.  I would get what is fair.  But, no...instead of fairness, He bestows His wonderful, life-saving mercy.  The judgment seat is transformed into the mercy seat.  I will stand before him with all my sins, my ugliness, my selfishness, covered with the blood of His perfect son.  Jesus advocates for us to to the Father; he suffered, died, was buried, and rose from the dead to forestall a judgment of "fairness."  Yes, Jesus took my punishment for me. 

For the mercy I am shown every day, the mercies I will receive at the end of my days, isn't it only right that I exhibit mercy in response to petty offenses and perceived unfairness?  Proving my point at the expense of mercy and love and forgiveness is a slap in God's face.  

Lord, help me show a fraction of the mercy to others that You have shown me, as a measure of my gratitude to You.