Connections. Deepening relationships. Choosing. Changing. Growing. Slowing down enough to think, to feel, to know I have purpose beyond daily existence. God matters to me. I matter to him. Others should matter to me.
An entire day can go by. When my connections consist primarily of digital activities, online friends, technology–how does that impact who I am as a person? What I take in of life or give out?
Outside my door is 80 acres of wooded pathways (where we live and work). God’s creation–a place for discovery, relaxation, meeting him. A five-minute walk in another direction and I can interact with at least twenty people every day (the ministry’s staff and at-risk teens). I can get to know them, be more than just another face passing through to them. I can know the depth of relationship, the joy–and the heartache–of caring and loving.
That’s living.
Outside the door of my home office–at least in the evenings–are my family members. What do I have to offer if my time in a day is immersed in being electronically, digitally connected? What would my husband and I, my children and I talk about . . . together?
So I took up that challenge of 25% (minimum) less of tech time each day. What we did during the last couple weeks to keep our eyes on life . . . on God . . . on each other:
Read Christmas books and stories together.
Had deep conversations about our faith–questions and discoveries–as we traveled in the car
Played games, including learning a few new ones
Worked on homemade Christmas gifts and decorated cookies
Put together, with friends, a money tree for missionary friends
Prayed together for the people we care about
Enjoyed holiday services
Caroled for a local church’s outdoor “Road to Bethlehem”
We enjoyed conversation, laughter, a few tears over disappointments and challenges, more prayer.
Along with a techie gift or two, we gave and received gifts of time and encouragement, a puzzle to work on together, items for hobbies to enjoy together, more books to read aloud, several Bibles in which to write notes to soldiers.
We aren’t and weren’t perfect. We don’t deserve pats on the back. This took work, a plan and a commitment.
It took keeping our “eyes on life.”
