What is that racket, that commotion, that noise, I hear?
A) the running commentary and video in my head
B) traffic, Internet video clips, radio, podcasts, phone beeps
C) slogans and messages on billboards, clothing, bumper stickers, and everywhere else
D) All of the above
If you're like me, the answer is 'D' -- all of the above. When I lose my keys, the Internet is down at work, the latest text message carries with it a downturn in a friend or family member's health, and social media is broadcasting the latest in who is angry at whom, I feel like the momma elephant in the children's book Five Minutes Peace by Jill Murphy.
"The children were having breakfast. This was not a pleasant sight."
Murphy has this one right. I'm in the middle of reading a book Behind the Beautiful Forevers by Katherine Boo. It's a non-fiction story about life in a Mumbai undercity. Children are not having breakfast there, but they're not really considered the poor in India which makes me wonder how desperate do you have to be to be poor in India. In the meantime, down the street, folks are upset because a major coffeehouse has changed the design of their cups.
The children of the world are having (or not having) breakfast, and it is not a pleasant sight.
During all this morning hour, as in Murphy's book, everyone is vying for momma's or our attention: Look at me! Look at me! Look at me! Then, Can I? Can I? Can I? And, I'll add during this season: Buy me...Buy me...Buy me...
Dallas Willard writes: "We are immersed in birth-to-death and wall-to-wall 'noise' -- silent and not so silent" (The Divine Conspiracy 9). It's not just the morning hour, 24/7 we are "smothered in slogans" (ibid) and facing our own video thoughts.
All the momma wants in this children's book is five minutes of peace, and along with slowing down, five minutes of silence filled with peace helps me and others bring "truth, goodness, strength, and beauty into our lives" (Willard 10). Five minutes of stillness with God cuts through my first instinct to blame someone for "accidentally" picking up my keys (when I simply put them in a different place), cuts through the panic of how will I get my job done, cuts through the despair, cuts through sheer nonsense. God comes alongside and I stop scapegoating (blaming others), and I gain creativity and hope and wisdom. I can lift up my eyes and see someone else at the breakfast table other than myself. That will be the subject of a different post, but for now, for those who might be scared about 5 minutes with God, I leave you with this: God likes you; He loves you. He's like Mr. Rogers except hundreds upon hundreds times better.
Joining me on this journey of practice? Slowing down and 5 minutes of stillness with God.
Joining me reading? Pages 9 - 13 of The Divine Conspiracy.
A) the running commentary and video in my head
B) traffic, Internet video clips, radio, podcasts, phone beeps
C) slogans and messages on billboards, clothing, bumper stickers, and everywhere else
D) All of the above
If you're like me, the answer is 'D' -- all of the above. When I lose my keys, the Internet is down at work, the latest text message carries with it a downturn in a friend or family member's health, and social media is broadcasting the latest in who is angry at whom, I feel like the momma elephant in the children's book Five Minutes Peace by Jill Murphy.
"The children were having breakfast. This was not a pleasant sight."
Murphy has this one right. I'm in the middle of reading a book Behind the Beautiful Forevers by Katherine Boo. It's a non-fiction story about life in a Mumbai undercity. Children are not having breakfast there, but they're not really considered the poor in India which makes me wonder how desperate do you have to be to be poor in India. In the meantime, down the street, folks are upset because a major coffeehouse has changed the design of their cups.
The children of the world are having (or not having) breakfast, and it is not a pleasant sight.
During all this morning hour, as in Murphy's book, everyone is vying for momma's or our attention: Look at me! Look at me! Look at me! Then, Can I? Can I? Can I? And, I'll add during this season: Buy me...Buy me...Buy me...
Dallas Willard writes: "We are immersed in birth-to-death and wall-to-wall 'noise' -- silent and not so silent" (The Divine Conspiracy 9). It's not just the morning hour, 24/7 we are "smothered in slogans" (ibid) and facing our own video thoughts.
All the momma wants in this children's book is five minutes of peace, and along with slowing down, five minutes of silence filled with peace helps me and others bring "truth, goodness, strength, and beauty into our lives" (Willard 10). Five minutes of stillness with God cuts through my first instinct to blame someone for "accidentally" picking up my keys (when I simply put them in a different place), cuts through the panic of how will I get my job done, cuts through the despair, cuts through sheer nonsense. God comes alongside and I stop scapegoating (blaming others), and I gain creativity and hope and wisdom. I can lift up my eyes and see someone else at the breakfast table other than myself. That will be the subject of a different post, but for now, for those who might be scared about 5 minutes with God, I leave you with this: God likes you; He loves you. He's like Mr. Rogers except hundreds upon hundreds times better.
Joining me on this journey of practice? Slowing down and 5 minutes of stillness with God.
Joining me reading? Pages 9 - 13 of The Divine Conspiracy.
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