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?
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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