Dear Devoted
Dear Devoted
Taking back the power to choose in a digitally laden world
by Taylor May
I went for a walk without my phone today. In between the times I found myself searching for it, I looked at flowers, picked some. I said hello to neighbors, wondered about strangers walking by. For the first time in a while, I let my mind wander. Now, I'm back home. The dryer is making its melodic whirring tumble, warming up the dim room where I sit in a makeshift office space and earnestly attempt to sort out the manic that has my head its home for a while now.
My phone rang just a moment ago. I forgot to post on Instagram in the past few days. My email is cluttered with unread messages from unknown senders trying to sell me unwanted things. Mixed in are some important things, I'm sure. But I can't them make out in the midst of the mess. I tried to order a pizza but technology, who we so heavily rely on, failed me in the simplest manner of an inexplicable error code. I logged onto Facebook to get to that message I've been meaning to and found myself scrolling through barely acquaintances' photos of all the ways they're staying sane during the COVID-19 Stay at Home order.
My head feels full. My soul feels heavy. My heart feels a dull, insatiable ache to reach for my phone, to fill the moments when my mind begs for quiet when I’ve got real, actual things to get done in front of me. The world seems to be ever-shifting and running, but inside these walls I've found myself stuck in the past month or so, nothing's changed. In pursuit of relief, of change, I give in. I surrender to the devotion I never intended to give to the world of the web.
A friend of mine shared an interesting take on the work devote yesterday. “To devote means to give all of yourself, your resources to something or someone. Which means, your vote for anything else is revoked, it doesn't exist. Your vote is taken, your full self is spoken for when you choose to be devoted to something.”
I don’t want to be devoted to social media. But if an onlooker took any glance at my life they may deduce that I am. My time and attention feel split between so many involuntary things. And it's all so painfully urgent.
Everywhere I look a distraction beckons me, begs for my attention, for my utter devotion. Most of it isn't bad or unnecessary. Most of it is good.
Of course, I want to watch that Marco Polo of my friend's baby's first giggle. I desperately want to read that 1500 word post about how you overcame addiction and disorder. Yes! Sign me up for the essential oils 101 class so that I can learn how to not *wreak havoc* on my body, household, and family. I probably should weigh in on the comments of that debate or it'll seem like I don't care.
Phone in one hand, coffee in the other, hours pass us by as we flick our thumbs, merely scrolling through life-changing events and world-altering news. But it is all simply too much to hold in my hand. It's beyond my control and much more than I can grasp, let alone understand or devote myself to.
I'm losing my sense of focus, my sense of the real world, my very idea of what it means to be devoted. While I want my days to be defined by a deep and honest pursuit of God's glory, of His purpose, of His peace, I feel out of control and scattered among the cyber remains of the lives of thousands of Facebook friends, Instagram followers and whoever from whom every one of those is reposting.
This isn’t a rant about how awful the media is or even an announcement that I’m going on a 30-day social media fast. I don't think that switching to a "dumb" phone or removing myself from social media will fix what is fractured in my soul. Media is good. Technology is good. Connection is good. Creativity through multimedia mediums is good. But, as is our human way, I've taken a good thing and put it in a dangerously high position.
In his book, "The Spirit of The Disciplines," Dallas Willard writes that the seven deadly sins are "each a case of one or more legitimate desires gone wrong."
It's normal for me to want to connect with friends, both old and new. It's good that I want to learn from what experts have to offer on their social media platforms. It is exciting that there are so many resources available to learn how to better tidy my home, parent my toddler, or study the Bible.
The enemy though, he knows my heart's tendency to be overwhelmed, to feel out of control. He uses the glowing glitter of the screen, the charged verbiage of Facebook posts, and Instagram stories to lure me into a world I'll never attain, to lives I'll never be able to keep up with.
The enemy though, he knows my heart's tendency to be overwhelmed, to feel out of control. He uses the glowing glitter of the screen, the charged verbiage of Facebook posts, and Instagram stories to lure me into a world I'll never attain, to lives I'll never be able to keep up with.
The problem, for me, is the quantity. What I'm afraid I haven't learned to do is apply boundaries, though I always knew I needed to. The sheer amount of things to know and people to talk to sends me over the edge with the fear that I'm missing out on all of it. Every yes is subsequently no. And that is okay. Devotion requires discipline. Unfortunately, media these days doesn't lend our minds the ease of choosing what is important and what's not. We must do that for ourselves.
This is my attempt to get to the root of my fried and dizzying mind in a world where I feel I need to connect with everyone. This is my desire to get back to devotion. To give each moment the devotion it is due. To remember to God who deems my worth and who requires my life's devotion.
What would it mean to be completely present, each and every moment? To sit with your thoughts while you wait for an appointment? To talk with a friend and not itch with anticipation for a text from another? To open the Word, the only word that refreshes your soul, in the morning before you’ve turned on your phone?
Do you wonder these things, Kindred?
There are many answers out there, I’m sure, for the solution to this problem. But for now, I want to give you permission to close this screen, to take a long, deep, renewing breath and choose. Choose to open your phone or computer back up, or not to. Remember that you have control and that the life you have in front of you is worth devoting yourself to.