Good morning…
Separation from our old normal happened bit by bit. First the cancelation of highly anticipated large group gatherings, then unplugging from beloved small group supports. Next staying away from familiar buildings, church, school, office, then safely distancing from the homes of family and friends. Gradually we reduced ourselves down to computer contact, Zoom, online learning, and creative expressions. In this strange season of social distancing, ultimately our phones have become our most reliable lifeline, texting, calling, FaceTiming with loved ones.
Then on Friday, my trusty ole iPhone 5-S died. Dead. Blank. Un-chargeable.
What a symbolic severing for me. The cutting off of a single strong strand of connection. No call to my siblings or parents as I had planned this weekend. No keeping in touch by text with my closest companions. No responding to needs or prayer requests from people trying to reach me. I am forced to feel, “I hate being out of touch.”
I have thank-you’s to share. I have “How are you doing’s?” to ask. I have walk-and-talk plans to make. I have spiritual direction sessions to schedule. I could use someone else’s phone to make a call, but I don’t know people’s numbers, their special seven digits are trapped in my old, dead phone.
Ultimately I feel reduced down to no human contact outside our home. As I am reduced down, my spiritual senses are enlarged. A Scripture verse now saturates my mind.
Don’t let the excitement of youth cause you to forget your Creator. Honor him in your youth before you grow old and say, “Life is not pleasant anymore.” Remember him before the light of the sun, moon, and stars is dim to your old eyes, and rain clouds continually darken your sky. Remember him before your legs—the guards of your house—start to tremble; and before your shoulders—the strong men—stoop. Remember him before your teeth—your few remaining servants—stop grinding; and before your eyes—the women looking through the windows—see dimly.
Remember him before the door to life’s opportunities is closed and the sound of work fades. Now you rise at the first chirping of the birds, but then all their sounds will grow faint.
Remember him before you become fearful of falling and worry about danger in the streets; before your hair turns white like an almond tree in bloom, and you drag along without energy like a dying grasshopper, and the caperberry no longer inspires sexual desire. Remember him before you near the grave, your everlasting home, when the mourners will weep at your funeral.
Yes, remember your Creator now while you are young, before the silver cord of life snaps and the golden bowl is broken. Don’t wait until the water jar is smashed at the spring and the pulley is broken at the well. For then the dust will return to the earth, and the spirit will return to God who gave it (Ecclesiastes 12:1-7, NLT).
As the white cord to my iPhone fails to work and my bond to the outside world is broken, I am reduced…before…I am enlarged: “Remember your Creator.” I will remember my Creator as I venture out to the phone store this new Monday morning.
…Sue…
P.S. In the meantime, if you need to reach me, please email me at sue@suetoyou.com.
P.S.S. Photo courtesy of unsplash.com.
