Because it’s 2017 and ironically, the only place that anyone will read about my media free week is on social media. So here goes...
About a month ago our pastor referenced social media in a sermon. He talked about the way most of our culture uses it for gratification, “connectedness,” and approval. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. It was one of those sermons where I felt like he was staring at me the whole time and the only place I had to look was down. However, we all know how easy it is to walk out of church and ignore what we’ve heard or act like it’s really not that big of a deal/problem in our lives. Also, I found just about every justification that you can think of to continue my bad habits on social media. Like it’s my only way to find good deals on secondhand toys for my kids for Christmas or stay in touch with old friends (although I can’t really remember the last time social media really made me feel connected to another person). So after weeks of considering it, inspiration from some friends, and reflection on how I really wanted to spend the holidays with my family, Austin and I decided to go media free for a week. Is it sad that I was honestly scared about the side effects I would experience as a result? I thought it would be impossible. I am on my phone a lot after my kids go to bed. I am on my phone a lot between report writing at work. I am on my phone a lot while riding in the car. I am basically on my phone during any downtime that I have to wait such as grocery lines, filling up at the gas station, and red lights (it’s stupid dangerous and I can’t believe I’m admitting it but it’s true). I talk a lot about how being on my phone bothers me. I talk to my husband about how much it bothers me when he is on his phone and then I cope with my anger towards him by getting on my phone. In short, social media has negatively impacted my kids and family and it was time for a break. Being media free for a week has pressed a much-needed reset button in my life. I have been so much more present with my kids and family. I get to see everything they do and I don’t miss out. I am more productive at work. I don’t feel as anxious or connected to a device. I don’t feel responsibility to answer people immediately after they text me. I have been able to take deep breath‘s and remember (and actually see) the important things in my life. I care less about what other people think. I will never get this time back with my kids. Cliché I know, but so true. Jade is still snuggly and smiley and perfect and small and tomorrow I will wake up and she will be bigger and more independent and needing her mom less and less. And Nick, my goodness this age is seriously magical. He is smart and funny and intentionally both. He is joyful and appreciates the small things. He’s learning how to use manners and it’s hard to make a 2-year-old go to bed when he says “no thank you mommy.” In some ways, I feel like I’ve missed out by trying to document everything on my phone or being on my phone in general. But again, in a few minutes my kids will wake up from their naps and be bigger and I don’t have time to regret and fill myself with guilt. I do have time to control how I respond moving forward and continue reflecting on the person I want to be. I don’t think it’s practical for me to cut social media out of my life completely. I like sharing pictures of my kids and love seeing what’s going on in your life too. I still like pressing play and making candid videos of me asking my husband what he wants to remember about this moment in 5 years. Social media isn’t bad and I believe there is a good chunk of people that don’t use it the way that I was. I think not having the apps on my phone and connecting with my friends through phone calls and text messaging is much better than seeing life changes on social media. I also think that I feel less pressure being off social media. I don’t have to worry about perfect pictures or staged milestones; I get to enjoy my kids just as they are on Thanksgiving morning. Looking back, it’s funny to me that I would feel pressure or responsibility for updating everyone on every aspect of my life. When I start training for runs, when I do something different with my hair, when my child learns a new word, those are daily gifts that God gives me that I get to witness and appreciate if I’m paying attention. And let’s be honest, my core circle cares about those gifts but 1,000 friends on Facebook probably don’t. You will be surprised on the next car ride you take that you get to enjoy all the scenery and beautiful creation versus scrolling on your phone. It’s refreshing to start a conversation without saying did you see...( something random that doesn’t relate to your life or matter at all)on social media... Get busy living friends. Real life is so so good.
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Our little buddy, Nicholas Henry, will be 2 at the end of January. Most of you know he was named after my brother, Nicholas Scott, who passed away when he was 13 and I was 11.
I have thought a lot about all of the times we will get to tell our son "Uncle Nick stories." This might sound dumb but it honestly never crossed my mind that one day I will have to tell my son "the Uncle Nick story." That day came sooner than I expected. Sunday. We were at my parent's house playing with toys and watching football when he pointed to a shadow box hanging in the living room and said, "What's that?" The question was pointed to my mom. She looked at me, I looked at her, and she said, "How do I explain this one? Hmm. Those were for your Uncle Nick." As a side note, I should mention my mom and I both recently finished a book called Colors of Grief. It brought feelings of grief and anxiety back to the point where I felt like my brother died yesterday. I haven't experienced grief like that in years. The story was eerily similar to ours and I found myself not sleeping well, tearful all day long, and anxious. As you can imagine with any almost two year old, the conversation was practically over before it started and he completely switched gears to something else. Maybe one of the five remotes he likes to play with at my parents? I can't remember. I never thought about the fact that when my son learns about his Uncle Nick and his legacy of joy and faith, he also learns that his Uncle died, a part of the story that is unfair and quite honestly, brutal. As hard as it was for me to read Colors of Goodbye, there were several good reflections that I am leaning into as I continue to navigate grief, which includes preparing to tell Nick about "the Uncle Nick story" someday. Our family experiences both grief and joy. "Both/and living creates richer living, not in spite of grief, but because of it." Nothing that came out of Nick's death was worth the cost of losing him but I have a choice about how I will fill the crater this loss has left behind. A few quotes from the book, (In talking about how to fill the crater left behind by the loss of her daughter) "I could fill that sucker in a heartbeat with bitterness, anger, and doubt. I could heap it to overflowing with self-pity, victimhood, and resentment. And no one would dare blame me because death of a child is an ace in the hole when it comes to remaining stuck. But could I instead choose to fill that crater with things like open-handedness toward God, a deeper authenticity in my faith—one that doesn’t spit-shine the tragedy with too-soon platitudes about heaven without first giving nod to my lacerating loss? Could I fill the crater with curiosity, greater empathy, richer gratitude, and hope? Would there come a day when I could fill that crater with joy? This thought silenced me. My outstretched hands fell to my side. I am not a mere victim. I have a choice." "God, always the gentleman, had not rushed me or demanded I accept this life whose story line still horrified me, and perhaps always would. He had simply continued to invite and to fan little embers of joy beneath the ashes as constant reminders of His love for me. He had not forgotten me or my family or our pain." This year's grief talk with my two year old was short. I pray that when my son is old enough to hear all the parts of the story, he sees the ways God has fanned embers of joy (HELLO, giving me a beautiful son named Nick) beneath the ashes of such significant loss. I pray he sees his mom, making daily choices to fill craters of grief with open-handedness towards God and his goodness. Someone who didn't fall victim to bitterness and anger. I pray that he sees a family that has held on and who has let go. Most importantly, I hope he sees a God who invites him into joy. |
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Hi! I'm Haley. Archives
May 2019
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