I know that young people are often disparaged because of their over-reliance on digital media, but I think my generation probably has a bigger problem. I heard a news story this week about the negative impact absorbed by young children who grow up in families where parents are consumed with their electronic devices. Imagine a family actually gathering for a meal (which probably doesn't happen all that often anyway) and imagine the children being ignored by their parents who are obsessively anchored to their machines. That scene is not all that hard to imagine - and it was the precise situation described in the news story. The children in the story would resort to bad behavior simply to get the attention of their parents!
As I've written here several times, I came late to the digital party. But now that I'm here, I love what my devices can do. I remember last fall when I finally gave up what the people at Verizon called my "dinosaur phone," and purchased a phone that was described as "smart." Just in case you're wondering, my phone is indeed smart - often quite a bit smarter than I am.
Even more, I love what it can do. Some days my phone feels like a bionic extension of my hand. And when it's not in my hand, I feel that I've lost a part of myself.
As smart as my phone is, however, it doesn't have a lot of international capability . . . which means that I'm about to enter the season of my disconnect.
It's not as bad as it sounds. When I left for Ethiopia last August, I felt an immediate unsettledness when I had to put my phone on airplane mode. Among other things, that meant that I didn't need to constantly check for messages. In a few days, I didn't even think much about it . . . though I must admit my disappointment that the world carried on just fine without my moment by moment oversight. I remember making a promise to myself that I would re-engage slowly once I returned. Once I got back, however, I returned pretty quickly to my old ways. I found myself checking things that didn't need to be checked and watching for messages that weren't all that important.
I'm sorry to admit it, but about the only time I'm without my phone is for an hour on Sunday morning when I'm in worship. Even that's a good thing, though - I have a bunch of pastor friends who don't even part with their phones during that hour. So maybe I'm doing better than I could be.
In any case, the season of my disconnect is coming quickly. My feelings about that are completely mixed. I can't stand the thought of being out of touch. At the same time, I can't wait for that to happen. If it's anything like last time, disconnecting will be both painful and refreshing. I will miss the access and, while I don' t have it, I'll wonder why it matters to me so much.
Technology is both a blessing and a curse. And it's usually both of those things at the very same time.
In all fairness, I wouldn't turn it off if I had a choice.
In this case, I don't have a choice.
Thankfully, I don't have a choice.
I'm sorry to admit it, but about the only time I'm without my phone is for an hour on Sunday morning when I'm in worship. Even that's a good thing, though - I have a bunch of pastor friends who don't even part with their phones during that hour. So maybe I'm doing better than I could be.
In any case, the season of my disconnect is coming quickly. My feelings about that are completely mixed. I can't stand the thought of being out of touch. At the same time, I can't wait for that to happen. If it's anything like last time, disconnecting will be both painful and refreshing. I will miss the access and, while I don' t have it, I'll wonder why it matters to me so much.
Technology is both a blessing and a curse. And it's usually both of those things at the very same time.
In all fairness, I wouldn't turn it off if I had a choice.
In this case, I don't have a choice.
Thankfully, I don't have a choice.