This is my alarm clock.
I am about 100 pages into a great book called “12 Ways Your Phone is Changing You” by Tony Reinke. If you aren’t familiar with it, it’s a good, (easy), read, neither pro or anti smartphone. Reinke deals with the smartphone technology as a reality that needs to be addressed in new ways, and he warns in the intro, the book will (only) appeal to people who “welcome self-critique.”
This season of my life allows for and maybe is for self-critique and one of my attachments to having the work iPhone near bed at night is because of the gentle way the alarm wakes me in the morning. (It’s some piano kind of thing that starts softly and gets a little louder and is much less alarming than any alarm I’ve owned or own. As a side note, I’ve only had the iPhone -my first smartphone- since the new job that started late November last year, so this alarm discovery is still newly appreciated.)
The same week I got the book, I was listening to the radio, and Luis Palau’s segment came on and he said the Hebrew word for “hope” is the same one that is used for “wait”. This truth has stayed with me and continues to root around inside. G-d is using this word to make me realize that even if it doesn’t happen in my lifetime, waiting on Him must result in reward, especially if you can’t see it.
As I shelve my work phone for the weekend, (ringer on in case work actually calls, which has only happened once so far on a Saturday), and avoid the temptation to access all the distractions it can suck me into totally unrelated to my job, setting the alarm clock to ocean waves for tomorrow, I’m also attempting to remind myself that emptying my life of these instant fixes makes room for His Spirit to continue to purge out the unnecessary and fill in the joy.
In this quiet, I’m reminded why I got this house; and, though the path is still (excruciatingly) unclear, its not at all as empty anymore. It’s not just the furniture, (though a wonderful improvement.)
The good parts:
- My plants are growing like gangbusters this summer in the room that used to be porch. I am going to have to repot nearly everything again by fall.
2. and 3. 2 new residents, very low maintenance and formerly feral cats, hide mostly in my basement still; but, they are incrementally less afraid of me. Appearances are getting more regular in the light of day and the empty of the house feels more … expectant.
Not so good part but good will come of it, I am sure. A daunting realization has moved to the forefront of my consciousness. My guest room, the master bedroom, has unearthed a sense of failure. Not yet can look like a no. Catching myself daydreaming visions of what home should be and letting it die to what actually is is not failure, it’s surrender, once I let Him have it. This is a dying seed time. Growth is inevitable.
More to come. In His time.