My Choice is Not to Lose

If there is no other blog post you ever read, read THIS. I read this back in May, and it stirred my heart deeply. I felt convicted, but made excuses not to do anything about those convictions.

In this "technology centered age" it's hard to break away from technology. The always keeping up with "friends," the "following," and the "pinning" of amazing ideas we wish we had thought of. But what does the constant tie to technology really gain for us? After a great deal of prayer and soul searching, I agree with Rachel Stafford that what we are really gaining is a loss.

A loss of authentic relationships as opposed to blurbs from hundreds of "friends" on Facebook.
A loss of prioritizing what's truly important in our days.
A loss of time that has been wasted.

But most importantly, as parents, we are missing out on our children's childhoods. 

I am going to be vulnerable here and confess that for the last 4 months since Peanut has been home with us, the first sight Birdie and Buddy-Ro usually see in the morning is me nursing Peanut with my iPhone in hand. I have made many different excuses to myself and to the kiddos like, "I just need/want something to do while I'm sitting here." Or, "I'm just trying to stay awake." Or, "I'm reading my Bible on my phone." (Which is usually what I am doing first thing in the morning...but, goodness, I'd rather them have the memory of me with my actual Bible laid open with well-worn pages than a memory of me with my phone.)

I have considered on a number of occasions deleting my Facebook account so as not to have that be a constant distraction. But then another "friend" would become pregnant and I told myself that I didn't want to miss out on her excitement. Or a "friend" would go on a trip and I didn't want to miss those pictures. Or a "friend" from the past would find me and I wanted to catch up. But really, those "friendships" are less than authentic. 

Today, a friend with whom I have a real relationship with (meaning we actually talk in person, see one another in person, fellowship together on a regular basis) shared this blog post with me. It slapped me across the face even harder than when I read it back in May. Because this time I realized that I had done nothing about my earlier convictions.

Today, I did.

Before I even finished re-reading the blog post, I deleted my Facebook page. No more excuses. I simply did it. (Now that may seem drastic to you, but this was my conviction and I was honestly tired of lying to myself that it was harmless.) Maybe your area of struggle is playing Words With Friends instead of getting on the floor and playing with your kids? Maybe it's having your Kindle always in your hand instead of engaging in conversation or reading out loud with your kids? Maybe it's checking your phone/email every single time you hear a chime? I don't know your area of struggle, but I hope that you will pray for the Holy Spirit to reveal to you what decision you need to make in order to put your children first. I truly believe that giving undivided attention is the first and most basic ingredient in any relationship.

After I deleted my Facebook page, I went straight to Birdie-girl and Buddy-Ro who were playing in Birdie's room and said something very close to this:
"Mommy wants to apologize to both of you. I am sorry that you see me on the phone a lot of the
time during the day. I am sorry, Birdie, that last night when you came in to tell me good
night while I was nursing Peanut that you saw me on my phone and thought I was too busy to
kiss you good night. I am sorry if there has ever been a time when you thought Mommy's phone
was more important than you. From now on I will try to only be on my phone if I need to talk
with someone. Everything else can wait."

Their reactions were not magical at the exact moment of my apology, but our day together was very different than recent ones. It's as if Birdie and Buddy-Ro knew that they did not have to compete with anything for their Mama's attention. They didn't have to be "put on hold" or told to "wait, just let me finish this." My choice is not to lose out on my children, and they noticed it right away. Our day was different. It was full.

Full of them.
Full of us.