40 days off social media: 5 things I noticed
For my 40th birthday I gave myself a gift: 40 days off social media. In not one, not two, but three books I recently read (Deep Work, Them, and The Common Rule) the authors recommended social media breaks of various lengths, all for different reasons–mostly spiritual, emotional, and mental health.
But the one that stood out to me the most was from a non-religious book called Deep Work, which asserts that distraction has a crippling effect on important, creative, deep, thoughtful work (and, I’d say, relationships). The author believes we must work to increase our ability to give focused attention, at-length, to projects and people. (It’s interesting to me that Charlotte Mason lists this as the most important trait to teach young children.)
He writes, “Don’t formally deactivate these services, and (this is important) don’t mention online that you’ll be signing off: Just stop using them… After 30 days, ask yourself the following two questions about each service you temporarily quit:
- Would the last 30 days have been notably better if I had been able to use this service?
- Did people care that I wasn’t using this service?
If your answer is “no” to both questions, quit the service permanently.”
So I did this, but stretched it to 40 days. Here’s what stood out to me:
- I was much more emotionally stable for my family. I realized that often I can be short or taxed or moody with my family not because of anything they’ve done, but because of some post or comment or news opinion item (not the news event itself but the commentary on the new event) has frustrated or saddened or irked me.
- I was more present for the people in front of me. I can easily live in my head. I’m always thinking, considering, debating, having conversations in my head. A quick hop on social media can easily send me into rabbit-trail of thoughts that are a world away from the actual people I’m facing and serving in that moment.
- I was on my phone WAY less. This is probably obvious, but with no social media apps there isn’t a whole lot to do on one’s phone. It also just happened that on my bday (when I began) my phone quit taking a charge from all cables except one, and the battery-life dwindled drastically. So basically my phone has to stay plugged in, and when I’m out and about I turn it off.
- I felt more clarity in how to thoughtfully respond to events rather than emotionally react out of guilt or anger. This was probably the biggest benefit for me. The challenge for me with social media isn’t that I compare my life with others, or waste time, or play games or get jealous. For me, the challenge on social media is that it feels like there is ALWAYS something to be outraged about. So. Many. Causes. So. Much. Anger. I recently heard someone describe themselves as a “bleeding heart conservative” and I had to laugh. I feel like that! I feel (deeply!) the need to respond to every injustice and and then my pride gets mixed in too and I don’t want to be seen as uncaring, so I want to somehow show my care or attention to some issue, but the problem is–on social media we tend to equate “action” with “posting something immediately.” Never mind that this issue (whatever it is) has probably been around for years or decades (or all of human history) if you don’t post exactly the right thing RIGHT NOW then you clearly aren’t a real Christian. What’s interesting, of course, is that research shows that posting about some cause on social media actually makes you LESS likely to do something about it. Probably because the post somehow satisfies our “need to do something” urge. We get the monkey off our back without having to lift a literal finger–thumbs and hashtags are all it takes! Of course I’m not saying that people who post on social media don’t actually do things–not at all! But for me, I found that without the social media “option” for action, I was much more inclined to pray, research, ask God for direction, and DO SOMETHING.
- I was able to love people in person more easily, without their recent posts flashing through mind. I was recently telling my sister-in-law that in person I’ve never really met someone I didn’t like. I mean, there are some not-favorites 😉 but for the most part, when I meet people in person, I like them. Even the ones who are different, who think different, vote different, look different. But when I read someone’s inflammatory or emotionally-charged rant on Facebook, that’s what stands out in my mind and it’s like an invisible barrier to being able to just love that person. Sure, sometimes people say things to my face that are hard or hurtful, but that’s real life. There’s grace aplenty to process that. But online, people say different things than they would in person, so when I also have to factor in all the sound-bytes and snippets and political posts and hashtags and article links and rants…it’s just a lot for my poor brain to overcome when I’m trying to just love and listen to and understand the person right in front of me.
Did I miss anything? I’ll be completely honest: What I missed was sharing funny things about my kids or cute photos of Justice. And that’s what their grandparents missed too. In fact, it was interesting to me that no one noticed I was off social media except my dad. Not a single person asked me where I’d been. So my absence was not a big loss for the world! (Also, I still read and responded to messages via Messenger and in three closed groups, as I need to be present there as well.)
Oh, one last thing: I narrowed down my news intake to one Daily Digest. I receive one daily email with 6-8 headlines (World, US, Politics, Church, Opinion, etc.). I can scan quickly and look more into stories I feel need more attention. The articles are thoughtful, from a Christian perspective (rather than a certain political party), and seem balanced and gracious. I feel informed not inflamed. 🙂
Going forward, I won’t be deleting my FB or IG accounts (I can’t deprive the world of Justice’s cuteness much longer!), but I’ll be continuing to enjoy them on a limited basis. (These posts automatically go to FB) AND, one fun outcome of all this: We’re starting a podcast! More details to come, but I’m super excited to be able to share more via voice and discussion, along with writing. If you want to be sure to catch the podcast and blog posts, please subscribe over in the orange box to the right (that way you don’t have to rely on social media to see stuff!)
More soon. Thanks so much for reading.
From His & Hers to Ours
Today marks 17 years since Jeff & I vowed to leave our separate lives and cleave to one another in marriage. The vows we spoke were fairly simple, I remember some “for better or for worse” business and “forsaking all others” stuff and something along the lines of “as long as we both shall live.”
Easier said than done.
It’s a strange phrase, but the exhortation to “catch the little foxes that spoil the vine” (Song of Songs 2:15) is just about the best marriage-advice out there.
It’s the little stuff, over the long haul, that threatens to spoil the most important human relationship we will ever have.
We’ve had some little foxes come our way, too. Most recently, God did a deep work in my own heart, and while it was painful, I now see it bearing great fruit. Jeff and I shared bits of it here…
God took us from “His & Hers” to “Ours.”
When we were first married, Jeff & I visited distant relatives in Chicago, and while we were there we attended a funeral for one of their friends. We had never met this person, but it impacted us deeply.
It was said of this man (and his wife), “they were two parallel tracks running beside one another.” Each person had “their thing” — they were successful, accomplished, and each ran along their individual track. It was meant to be a praise, but Jeff and I both were alarmed and we knew–we don’t want to be two parallel tracks. We knew God called us to oneness, not separate tracks. We knew, from that point on, we were to pursue oneness and be on guard against going our own way.
There have been challenges along the way, but God really brought my own “separate track” to a head in early April, when Covid quarantine had us all a little on edge.
It was the perfect storm of pregnancy hormones, morning sickness, fatigue, anxiety regarding miscarriage, etc. Several situations surfaced, where I felt like I had to die to myself in drastic ways. I was deeply discouraged. I told God (bitterly) that He apparently made me wrong because it seemed like all the ways He fashioned me were all needing to be stripped away. It felt like every single thing about me needed to change.
God began putting his finger on all the ways I see things as “mine.” While I have relinquished my hold on money, there are plenty of other things I see as “my” this or “my” that.
A big one was, “Your time is not your own.” I realized I see each day as “my” time, so I’m frustrated when it feels wasted or squandered by others. He showed me that none of my time is “my” time.
Then, the day before Easter, Jeff used my SUV (which I loved, my favorite car I’ve ever had) to make a rather long trip (that I didn’t want him to take), and it died. As in, engine dead. $10,000 to fix, and that’s about exactly what it was worth.
My car, gone.
I’m not a big car-person, so I was completely caught off guard by how emotionally I responded. I soon realized that my car represented the only thing in my life that is “mine.” In our 17 years of marriage I had allowed resentment to build up–I felt like every area of my life had been “taken over” by someone else. Except my car. I kept it clean and tidy, washed it every week.
It was the one and only thing that was mine.
And then he took it and it was gone. It felt like the last straw of things taken from me. Inwardly, I was angry at Jeff even though I knew it wasn’t really him. It was really God. Confirming that, as we prayed about replacing it, God began showing me He had a new plan. Rather than having “Jeff’s” car and “my” car (His & Hers), we would instead get a small, fuel-efficient commuter car that whoever needed to drive would use.
I realized that I would no longer have a “my” anywhere in my life.
It seems silly now, but I shed tears over this whole situation. Clearly, this work needed to happen. When I said yes to Jeff 17 years ago, I committed to a life of “our.” When I said yes to Jesus many years ago, I renounced my claim on my own life. There isn’t enough space to quote all the verses that make this clear. The call to follow Christ means at least that I can let go of whatever is “my.” Thy kingdom. Our belongings. Whether the issue is time, or money, or belongings, or space, or whatever, letting go of “my” is painful, but so necessary. Until I let go of “my” I cannot truly be His. Until I let go of “His” and “Hers” we won’t enjoy the joy that could be OURS.
After hearing me talk about this, a dear 14-year-old girl from our church made me these towels for my 40th birthday. (Isn’t this the coolest gift ever?!) Everyday I see them hanging and it reminds me that “His & Hers” are no longer, and that God’s joy and freedom and LIFE is OURS if we will lay down our rights and possessions and privileges for the sake of someone else.
Friends, do you see that this is so much bigger than marriage? We tend to treat “marriage & family” like it’s a separate topic or ministry from the rest of the “pressing issues” of the day. But it’s not. The willingness to lay down our lives for someone else, the actual process of dying to your own preferences and becoming a person of forbearance, grace, kindness, courage, generosity, and love is the only thing that will actually cure our country and our world of the evils we are facing. Christ is the only resource sufficient. Without redemption, new birth, and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit we simply do not have what it takes to let go of the claim on our lives.
I’m so grateful for these 17 years that have challenged and changed and shaped and molded Jeff and me more and more into the image of Christ. We have so much more to learn, so I hope we get a few dozen more years together for Jesus to work in us. 😉
Thanks for reading.
Invitation to Edit
Just now I glanced at my email inbox and saw seven GoogleDoc invitations from my children over the last few weeks, and marveled at how opportunities to influence look so different in different seasons, and they’re still so easy to miss…
More than six years ago, I reflected on how we win our children’s hearts through entering in to their imaginative play. That simple truth has come to mind dozens of times since then, and I’m so grateful I sailed toy ships, sat in playhouses, and sipped imaginary tea.
Life is very different now–there is still play, of course, but there’s no more imaginary tea or battleships in the bathtub. Now, that entering in comes in different forms:
Invitation to view. Invitation to comment. Invitation to edit.
These days, my kids spend quite a bit of time on computers, and I’m okay with that. They sit perched at our kitchen counter, and work on their various creative projects. Heidi is writing her second book, Dutch works on his blog, creates battle scenarios, researches various topics, and they both enjoy creating quizzes using Googleforms. Each one reflects their interests and passions, each one reveals a little of his or her heart.
All creative work is ultimately the sharing of oneself.
And it is a gift and privilege, I now see, that they want to share these works with me.
Just as they wanted to share imaginary tea six years ago.
And, just as six years ago, if I’m not mindful it’s easy for me to completely miss this opportunity. Honestly, I have so much to do (hello, toddler!) and I’m so tired (hello, pregnancy!) that it’s a gift that they spend so much time on their various (quiet) creative endeavors. It’s easy to just be glad they’re occupied and tiptoe off for a moment alone.
But then I check my email and I see:
Invitation to view. Invitation to comment. Invitation to edit.
I’ve always wanted to work to win my children’s hearts. I’ve always wanted to work so that when teens years come, they invite me in. The years of controlling are quickly coming to an end. The years of influence are here.
(Parental-control isn’t bad, by the way, during the little years, but always for the purpose of teaching and equipping them to exhibit self-control as they grow. I’m most certainly still in the control stage with Justice!)
And in these years of influence, the invitations are subtle, but still there.
They are inviting us to view: Let’s seize the chance to look into their hearts.
They are inviting us to comment: Let’s wisely comment and critique, without sarcasm or insincerity, but honesty and kindness.
And occasionally, the highest honor, they are inviting us to edit: Let’s sparingly and humbly enforce those habits and attitudes in our homes that will call them to godliness, respect, servanthood, initiative, agency, courage.
Of course not all viewing and commenting and editing comes from their invitation. As long as they are under my roof I still have executive authority to view or comment or edit as necessary. But if ignore those invitations and settle only for crowbarring my input into their lives, I’m doing us all a disservice.
Further, there are many around us (not just our children) who we have the privilege of influencing, yet we are tempted to try to control them by forcefully shoving our viewpoint into their lives. Jesus never did this.
Invitations for influence are all around us, if we will patiently pay attention.
The truth is, I fall hopelessly behind on reading all their documents. They can write way more than I can read in a day during naptime! But I’m still wading in, when I can, saying yes to those invitations to view, comment, and edit, working to keep winning their hearts.
{Thanks for reading.}
Considering homeschooling? 5 things I wish I knew before I began.
If you’re considering homeschooling and have a heap of questions, please know: You’re not alone.
We’re in strange times, and never before have I heard from so many parents who are considering homeschooling their children next year.
If that’s you, let me just say: This site is a virtual treasure-trove. From the “Start Here” links above (fabulous stuff!) to Jamie’s simple 3-hour homeschool game-plan, to the annual “Day in the Life” series, to posts on nearly every topic you can imagine, this site has always been my go-to for advice, links, and encouragement.
We just finished our 8th year homeschooling, and there are a few overarching things I wish I would have grasped more fully before we began.
Perhaps they can be helpful as you consider your plan for the days and years ahead: … Read the rest over at Simple Homeschool. Thanks!