the antisocial media – it’s not what you’re thinking

I was babysitting yesterday, and after swim and before snack, I had an hour of downtime all you moms are familiar with–naps. It was very quiet and I didn’t have a book. [I know that those who know me best will find this shocking.] But anyway, I didn’t, so I decided to be “productive” by cleaning out the notes section of my iPhone… They dated all the way back to December 2013 and range from serious to…well…not! I use it kind of like my very own social media platform where I’m the only audience. I guess it’s my antisocial media platform.

Thought I’d share some of them with you Thursday just for fun…

Let’s start with April 2014 and a quote from our pastor, Vernon Burger:

“Death has been conquered and now is waiting to be completely destroyed.”

And in May? A quote from Spider-Man (the movie–I’ve not actually met him):

“He [Spiderman] gives people hope.” “Hope in what?” “I don’t know…that everything will work out eventually.” “I just wish I had time for eventually.”

And also one from Dallas Willard:

“Grace is not opposed to effort. It is opposed to earning.”

Quiet summer. Then the fall. I don’t know that I always feel this way. But apparently I did one day in September:

Sometimes it’s good to dream dreams that will never come true. It’s evidence of life. It speaks of something greater.

So many feelings in this one sentence that I typed in November:

Maybe the truth of it is that we really can trust God and still need to tell Him, on occasion, that He has hurt our feelings.

And then December:

Sometimes the door that slams the loudest is the one behind you, reminding you that you can’t go back to what once was.

And sprinkled throughout these are random lists of my friends with yeses and nos beside their names. I think I was keeping track of who was coming to things. Either that or I was planning my hypothetical wedding party. [Sorry to all of you nos. Haha. Just kidding!]

Then a quote from Ted Dekker’s book AD 30:

“I tried to hold onto my surreal encounter with Jesus in Capernaum. But His power was not with me in my cell. And though I tried to follow His teaching to release fear, I could not find a way to shift my mind. With each passing day, my memory of Him seemed to fade.”

It caught my attention because I think it highlights the power of the time we live, this time after Christ’s death and resurrection, when His very Spirit lives within us. When He walked the earth, He was only one place at one time. Today, He dwells within!

And one from Jon Thurlow’s song, Never Dying Love:

“Seasons have changed and I’m aware: passion is not enough. Now that I know my weakness, Lord, oh how I need Your never dying love”

Apparently I was a little annoyed with people in January, but I was making a point not to take it out on God:

The truth is that some people really are only interested in what you can do for them. But God isn’t one of those people.

The next note was a list of vitamins. I thought that was funny!

And another thought in January:

Struggling with perfectionism? I present to you… Chalk paint. A guaranteed cure.

Matt Chandler at Passion 2015:

“God does not drive an ambulance. He does not show up after an event and try to put the pieces back together. God wounds us like a surgeon.”

Deep thoughts from February…

And, this might be my favorite, from 3:25am on March 5:

Take turns being the one who doesn’t quit.

Great idea! Do find those people with whom you can make this deal.

From later that week. Just a note to Houston weather. You know, one of my faithful antisocial media followers:

Houston pressure systems… My head would like a rest. Thanks for your consideration.

But really!

And then more recently:

We keep asking each other “What’s next?” Honestly, perhaps we should start with “What’s now looking like for you?”

It’s been a now kind of season for me.

And also this:

What kind of God says “go”? The kind that says “I will go with you.”

Amen. Now and forever. He does promise to go with us. Down the hard and the easy paths. In serious thought and random ramblings. Through hurt and disappointment and through party-planning and emoticon-hieroglyphs. He is a good God.

May we hear the song He’s singing over us. May we hear His laughter as it rumbles. May we know He holds us as we weep. May we feel the drops of His tears on the tops of our heads. May we relax against Him until our heartbeat slows to match His.

And may we look back, every once and a while, and remember He was there even when we didn’t know it.