drifting
Lately I've been thinking about vacations of days gone by. Before my girl went in the water, I would remind her to look up on the beach every few minutes. As long as she stayed in front of the steep triangle of a particular cottage, she wouldn't be far from our spot on the beach. I stressed the importance of checking her bearings often, no matter how weak the current seemed.
It's been two years since I cut the cord for a short period of time. Doing so was my reaction to a variety of events that conspired to show me that I needed a break from my phone and social media in particular. After a while I dipped my toes back into the waters, confident that I would stay in the right place. It's only recently that I've looked up to see how far away I've drifted.
I have forgotten to check my bearings. I underestimated the strength of the current. Or maybe I was pridefully confident in my own ability to stand against it. The makings of a quiet life have become blurry with distance.
Cal Newport writes, Clarity about what matters provides clarity about what does not. Such a simple statement, yet it has laid my heart bare. Perhaps I am prone to drift because I don't look often enough at the things that matter. I am restless. My hands reach for the phone too eagerly. My thumbs scroll upward too quickly. My brain demands a hit of technology that will numb it to the realities of this broken world. By focusing too much on the trivial, I've lost my ability to clearly see what's valuable.
I could make promises to myself, even cut the cord again. But without a heart change, none of it will last. The truth is, I do not have enough strength to keep from drifting. But I have a sure and steadfast anchor for my prone-to-wander soul. And so I cling to Christ with all my childlike might.
It's been two years since I cut the cord for a short period of time. Doing so was my reaction to a variety of events that conspired to show me that I needed a break from my phone and social media in particular. After a while I dipped my toes back into the waters, confident that I would stay in the right place. It's only recently that I've looked up to see how far away I've drifted.
I have forgotten to check my bearings. I underestimated the strength of the current. Or maybe I was pridefully confident in my own ability to stand against it. The makings of a quiet life have become blurry with distance.
Cal Newport writes, Clarity about what matters provides clarity about what does not. Such a simple statement, yet it has laid my heart bare. Perhaps I am prone to drift because I don't look often enough at the things that matter. I am restless. My hands reach for the phone too eagerly. My thumbs scroll upward too quickly. My brain demands a hit of technology that will numb it to the realities of this broken world. By focusing too much on the trivial, I've lost my ability to clearly see what's valuable.
I could make promises to myself, even cut the cord again. But without a heart change, none of it will last. The truth is, I do not have enough strength to keep from drifting. But I have a sure and steadfast anchor for my prone-to-wander soul. And so I cling to Christ with all my childlike might.