Thursday, February 23, 2012
We are all our own unique bundle of imperfections. Our hearts rebel, our minds wander of their own volition, our actions speak words we wouldn’t dare utter. Yes, we strive toward righteousness. Oh, to be like David and be seen with a like-minded heart of God. But inherently, we are vagabonds, flitting from one preoccupation to the next, and yet still, we are loved.
In a hectic world of countless distractions, I often wonder what it would have been like to live in simpler times. No cell phones, or overstimulating television. No 24-hour convenience stores or road-side service. Heck, what if I had no electricity, or running water? What might my day look like if instead of waking in a toasty warm house, I had to split logs and build a fire? Cook over an open flame? Haul water from a stream to bathe my children?
Now being a mother in the 21st century is a tough job. Don’t discount it! As it is, at the end of the day my sources are often so liquidated I can scarcely muster up enough energy to fall into bed. And that’s with all the modern conveniences my life affords. You can’t imagine the pitying, or often shocked looks I get when I have to carry my toddler in one arm, my baby in his pumpkin seat in the other, and a massive diaper bag strapped across the whole mess just to run into a store. Imagine how tough our ancestors had to have been to manage without a stroller, washing machines, disposable diapers! (I know you mean well, but you cloth diaper mother’s are a bit loony if you ask me!)
After the chaos of the emergency room visits from last week, I was looking forward to finding solace in some nice, quiet, normalcy. Ha! It’s funny that I am still naïve enough to think there can be normal, or quiet days. Already this week we’ve had a nasty fall, two sleepless nights, and a big ole batch of baby vomit in the crib at 5 a.m.
And then, as if to remind me of my dependence issues, my new cell phone died. May he rest in peace. Spoiled as I am, it was a huge inconvenience to stand around the Sprint store for over an hour—with two restless babes—only to have the technicians confirm the untimely death of my beloved smart phone. And be mocked by the fact that we don’t have a home phone, and thus I would be unreachable until the new phone arrived by mail.
How crazy that it was difficult to survive a little over a day without a phone! Pathetic even! Times have changed, and every little convenience becomes something we can’t live without. The things we form attachments to may help us, but might they also weigh us down? Steal our time, our focus? My phone has become my safety net, my crutch. What if my car broke down on the side of the road? What if there was an emergency—Lord knows we’ve had a lot of them lately, so I am not simply paranoid—and I couldn’t call for help?
What distracts you the most? Facebook? Latest episode of your favorite show? And what is the one modern convenience you couldn’t live without?