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What I learned from Facebook fasting...

9/28/2015

I loved Facebook so much, I had to give it up. It hurt some, but it felt even better.

Every September, our church participates in a fast. Members are encouraged to give up something of their choosing and spend that time in prayer. Previously I’d given up meat, a favorite dessert, or a favorite soda. This year, I decided to give up one of my favorite pastimes: Facebook.

After reluctantly creating a FB account four years ago, it became part of my daily life. I loved reconnecting with old friends, seeing pictures of my friends’ children, weighing in on the events of the day; and of course, updating my own status with my family adventures.

The decision to give up Facebook for three weeks was not made without some trepidation. In fact, I first only committed to one week thinking I would find something else for the remainder of the month. Then, I convinced myself I could do it for two weeks. And, the third week came easier than I thought.

Sure, I missed reading my friends’ updates. I actually had to text or call people with their “Happy Birthday” messages instead of “liking” their status. I had to step out from the comfort of Facebook and reach out to those with whom I wanted to connect. In doing that, I realized that most people still prefer human contact to digital outreach.

My fast changed how I learned about current events. I was limited to watching the networks or reading the paper (gasp!) for news. I couldn’t simply read a “shared” status from a friend to learn what was happening in society. (Of course, there were those times those updates turn out to be from a bogus news source, so I didn’t miss being hoodwinked.) In getting information from actual news sources instead of Facebook, it strengthened my respect for hard work journalists do in reporting the news.

Then, my fast provided me shelter when I didn’t want to be exposed to unfavorable posts. When my favorite sports teams lost, I was glad that I didn’t have to face the brutal social media wrath. When my day didn’t go well, I didn’t have the inner battle on whether or not to post it – and try not to sound whiny in doing so.

Even with the benefits of not constantly being on Facebook, I had to admit that I missed it a little. I felt a little disconnected.

I missed the news of a friend’s son being seriously ill.
I needed advice for a committee and wanted multiple answers from various people.
I couldn’t share my sermon notes.

I had friends tell me they missed hearing about my boys. And I missed talking about them. (I have a few blog posts in the works about their recent antics.)

There were other things that I wanted to talk about with whoever was reading my status. From the death of Dr. Kendra Hatcher to Serena Williams losing to attending my first Parent-Teacher conferences at the new school; I wanted to talk and I wanted to listen.

Still, the purpose of the fast was to connect with God. And I was doing just that.

I used my morning Facebook time to write in my prayer journal. I reached out to friends to let them know I was praying for them, too. When I subconsciously reached for my phone to browse and realized it wasn’t there (I deleted the app); I quickly found something else to do.

I blogged more. I read more. I prayed more. I thought more. All of those things were major improvements.

Like all social media, I was reminded that Facebook was neither good nor evil. It had its rightful place in my life but it would no longer be my main source of communication with the outside world. Now I have to find a happy medium of browsing, liking, and updating balanced against all the wonderful things that had taken Facebook’s place in the last few weeks.

I think I’m up for the challenge.

But, I’m coming back to Facebook in time to celebrate the birthdays of my mother and my oldest son this week. I’ve been working on what I wanted to say for a while.

Because it just wouldn’t be a birthday if we couldn’t celebrate it on social media, right?

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Please Forgive Me If My Child Comes to School Drunk...

9/18/2015

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When I noticed the half-empty bottle of mouthwash, I was confused. I had just bought it the previous night. Why was it almost gone? I didn’t see any blue-stained streaks near the sink or on the floor. Where did it go?

Then my heart sank into my stomach.
Did the boys drink the mouthwash?

They didn’t normally like it enough to even gargle the minimal amount required to pass my “Did you brush your teeth and rinse” questions they heard daily. But, this was a different mouthwash. Candy-flavored. It even had a superhero’s picture on the bottle.

Oh no! What had I done?

My was spinning non-stop with questions.
Were my kids drinking the mouthwash like water?
Were they unusually giddy right now in their first class?
It’s Wednesday. Chapel is first. Were they drunk in chapel?

Oh dear.
What would the school think of them? What would they think of me?
Would they forgive me if my sons came to school drunk?
Probably not. I wouldn’t forgive me if I was them. I would judge me.

It didn’t help that I had read a story about a toddler who drank enough fruit-flavored hand sanitizer to land her in the emergency room for detoxification. My thoughts had gone straight to the mother when I read the story.

Where was she when her child was drinking this delicious hand sanitizer, I thought. Now I realized she was probably exactly where I was this morning. Running around the house gathering backpacks and lunches while yelling to the bathroom, “Did you brush your teeth and rinse?” My sons had answered yes. Little did I know they were having their own little party back there. That's probably what the toddler said to their mom when asked if they'd cleaned their hands.

I guess the trick was on me. And I was going to be the object of other judgmental moms when this story hit the news.

I. Was. Panicking.

At some point, I stilled myself. The thoughts started to come more slowly and eventually became more rational. In all likelihood, the boys weren’t drunk. Having a mouthwash/toothpaste-stained uniform shirt was a much more likely scenario for my rowdy morning crew.

When no one had called from the school by lunchtime, I finally stopped thinking about it. I spoke with them after they got home and learned that each boy had taken a cup’s worth of rinse and quickly spit it out to see who could gargle the fastest.

A rinse game. Not a drinking game. It’s not the most effective way to rinse away morning breath, but at least they weren’t taking shots over the sink.

Although they wasted good mouthwash, I’m glad they hadn’t gone to school inebriated.
Now, please forgive me if my kids come to school with bad breath…..

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Praying for our Nation

9/11/2015

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Dear God,

Today I am praying for our nation as we remember the awful tragedy that shook America to its core fourteen years ago. Be with those who are still mourning the loss of loved ones who died that day. Comfort the husbands and wives, mothers and fathers, relatives and friends for whom this day is seemingly unbearable.

Where there is much pain; there is much healing.
Where there is much deep sorrow; there is ample hope.

We have no other hope for our country than a return to Your ways and a fervent exaltation of Your Name in this hallowed land.

Heal our nation from this deep racial and socio-economic divide. Draw the “Haves and the Have-Nots” closer together by bridging the gap and reminding us that we are more alike than different.

Eliminate poverty from our land.
Heal our sickness and disease.

Let our children live in a land of plenty where they are grateful for Your bounty.

Let us live remember this day in solace.
Let us honor the memories of our fellow Americans with a renewed spirit of unity.
Grant us liberty and justice for all.

Amen.

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When "Out of Order" is More Than a Sign

9/9/2015

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I live in Texas. It’s hot in the summer. Very hot. But I wanted a fountain soda from the downtown convenience store so I started walking. It was only four blocks away and despite the heat, I felt the crisp drink poured over the cool ice would make the temporary sweating worthwhile.

Imagine my shock when I arrived at the store to see an “Out of Order” sign posted on the fountain. No ice. No soda. No flavoring to add into my afternoon drink. Bummer.

I sulked and walked empty-handed out of the store and into the heat. I didn’t consider all of the other refrigerated drinks (including water and sports drinks) as options. I wanted what I wanted and nothing else.

I’ve already mentioned that I was hot. And that I was thirsty. And that I was walking four blocks on a Texas summer afternoon without anything to quench my thirst because I couldn’t get the soft drink how I wanted it.

What was I proving to the store manager by not buying one of the other options - that he was mismanaging his store? That he failed to meet my needs? That I wouldn’t buy a drink if it wasn’t poured over ice?

Rational minds would have seen the other options and chalked it up to bad timing or rotten luck. But not me. I left the store. I let my pride and my disappointment get in the way of reason. And it wasn’t the first time.

When we have our minds set on something, a temporary setback can seem monumental when in reality, it’s miniscule. Not getting “my way” isn’t the end of the world. In fact, when I look at the history of “my way,” I see some pretty poor choices. Oh how I wish there had been some “out of order” signs on the doors I had opened in the past!

Where was the “out of order” sign before I ventured into failed relationships, questionable fashion purchases or missteps in my career? Thinking of it that way, the “out of order” sign on the soda fountain probably saved me from an overly carbonated drink or one with too much fructose corn syrup. (I keep hearing the latter is a bad thing.)

Weeks removed from that situation, I see the silliness of my decision. I also see that measuring disappointment with reason can offer a plausible alternative to almost any detour. Sometimes “Plan B” can work out better than the original.

And it just might include a chilled beverage on a sunny day.

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Who's Shay?

Shay is a married, working mother of three boys whose interests range from politics to sports to cupcake tasting to classic television. She's seen every episode of "Friends" and "A Different World" and searches for "Law & Order" whenever she has the remote. Insightful and perplexed, Shay writes when her heart is full. Some are based on her Christian faith; others on her whimsical observations of life. The power of the pen gives her peace keeping her grounded in a challenging, overwhelming yet fulfilling world. All writings have copyright protection. Writings from a previous blog are being combined into this one.

What I learned from Facebook fasting...

Please Forgive Me If My Child Comes to School Drunk...

Praying for our Nation

When "Out of Order" is More Than a Sign

Who's Shay?

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