It’s confession time.
I’ve got a bad habit.
I wake up in the morning. It’s early. Real early. I don’t really want to get out of bed yet. Not ready to face my day.
Reflex kicks in and reach to my bedside table and grab it.
My IPad. Or my phone. Whatever is handier.
First I scroll through Facebook. Then Instagram. Feedly for the blogs I’m following. Gmail. And then the news. It’s good to be current with news, right? It feels like a vital connection.
Before I know it, and hour has passed. I’m replete with information and electronic white noise.
At night I do it all over again, tucked in with my tech.
And I wonder why I’m not hearing the Lord’s voice the way I used to.
I love what Pastor Abraham has to say about fasting. “It leaves more room for the Holy Spirit,” he chuckles.
I need to make room in my brain space. My soul space.
This weekend, I unplug. Keep my phone off. Less than 15 minutes of internet each day. I spend most of the weekend mucking in my garden. By Sunday night I am pleasantly sore and tired, and my insides feel expansive and clear.
Encouraged, I exile technology from my bedroom.
This morning I wake up early. Real early.
I don’t want to get out of bed yet, so I just lay there and remind myself of the Lord’s presence. An old hymn pops into my heart and I hum it quietly to myself. I think of Psalm 42:8.
By day the Lord directs his love,
at night his song is with me—
a prayer to the God of my life.
I wonder how many of His songs I have missed, swallowed by technological gluttony. But today I am able to hear it.