I am lost. As I write this I am without my constant companion - my cell phone. So far I have thought about checking with a friend about possibly meeting for lunch, thought about later checking an earlier message I had saved from my daughter's dentist with the phone number for the oral surgeon I need to call today and make an appointment, and thought about how many messages I have waiting on me. All this during the first 15 minutes of my 30 minute drive to work.
I also need the phone number or email address for my brother so can wish him "Happy Birthday," both which are in my phone, and I need a way for the groomer to contact me and let me know when Maggie, my Shih Tzu, is ready to leave the "doggie day spa." I'm beginning to wonder what I did without this small piece of equipment that has so intricately woven itself into my life.
Fast-forward three hours . . . it sure is quite and peaceful. No "pings" to tell me I have a text message, no little red light blinking to notify me of a message, no temptation to pick up my phone and check my email messages or get on Facebook. Matter of fact, this is quite freeing. No one calling me, no one texting me, no thoughts in the back of my mind to check my phone . . . maybe this isn't such a bad thing after all.
Now that I think about it, this is the same way I feel when I finally let go of something I'm struggling with after I give it to God. At first I'm lost because the thing I so badly want to be released from has been my constant companion. At first I miss it and want it near me, like a security blanket. Take worrying for instance, I finally give my concerns about a situation over to the Lord during my prayer time in the morning, but during the first 15 minutes of my 30-minute drive to work I'm already worrying. I go through the reasoning of my concerns until I remember I've already let it go. It's not there, for God has taken it from me just as I asked him to do in prayer.
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Fast-forward . . . it sure is quite and peaceful. No "pings" to tell me I need to worry, no little red blinking light in my heart to notify me that I need to be concerned, no temptation to examine the situation again. Matter of fact, it's quite freeing. So freeing I want to call and tell something how great this feels.
Opps. . . no cell phone.