About a week ago, a friend and fellow blogger wrote this entry. She told her social network that she signed up for a marathon. She said, "I don't want to post on my blog that I'm doing this grand ole thing, and then not do it."
Brave right? I love when people use social media to share their stories and ask for accountability. There is something I want to do and I don't want to fail. So to my social network, here's the New Year's Resolution I don't want to share: In 2015, I don't want to use my phone to take a single picture. I have been thinking about my New Year's Resolution for about two months now. It started when I took Bahsogay to mall to play in the treehouse, and I promise you every single parent was on their phone, capturing the perfect moment, having their kid go down the slide again because they missed the smile, literally bumping into other kids while they were walking around with their nose in their phone, working, or disengaging. It made me furious, and then I realized I am a hypocrite. I have verbalized my resolution to a few people, mostly family. It feels silly to tell people. Like what's the big deal, they are just pictures? and everyone is doing it, all the time. But, for me, right now it feels like a problem. Every moment of my life is captured by my iPhone, stored in my photo stream and displayed on Instagram or other forms of social media. I'd be lying if I said there wasn't some sort of "insta" gratification and encouragement that comes from social media. I'd be majorly lying because it has become something that interferes with my ability to truly live and be present with the people I truly love. Riding in the passenger seat while Austin is driving? Social media. The sweet form of encouragement from a friend? Social media. I got a puppy? Social media. Uncomfortable on public transit? Social media. I am scared I'm missing the point. When I look back at big moments in my life, I don't want to remember taking the picture 23 times to find the right angle that doesn't make me look fat, or finding the perfect filter, or making sure all of my friends approved by "liking it." I don't want to miss real people, and real conversations, and real opportunities, and real moments. I want to like my own life, and I do, but more than liking it, I want to feel it, and love it. I want to have photo albums (yes they still exist) on my shelves for my kids to look at it. I want to remember feelings, tastes, sounds, sights, and use my words to describe them to people. I want to remember how life actually occurred, not just how I wanted it to look. I want to write a better story. One that could care less how many "likes it got." To be bold, maybe we are called to lives that maybe wouldn't get very many likes. A few quotes that inspired this resolution are: "I guess our parents stayed together simply because they didn't have 7,000 other people following them at their disposal when their relationship or marriage got hard. Nowadays, when our relationships get hard, we can just log on and get high off this false sense of security, appreciate, and understanding. We value our worst based on followers, comments and inbox messages filled with colorful words that have no depth. Meanwhile the person who loves you when there is no filter on your face because an option and attractively filtered followers become priority. Don't lose what is real chasing what only appears to be." 'How can you ever be alone if thousands of “friends” are also in your pocket? We’ve traded silence and reflection for a "feed" of endless noise, custom filtered to our preferences.Beyond anything, it has made us forget how to actually be present. The digital revolution has empowered constant distraction that allows us to forget about what we are doing at the moment, and instead see images of what we have done, look at what others are doing or plan what we are going to do next.This is a spiritual crisis. One of the underlying things we learn about the nature of God in the Bible is that He does not mind waiting. He seeks stillness. After creating the universe, God Himself simply remained still and reflected on His work for an entire day. He loves being present so much so that the essence of His Holy Spirit, is presence." "Because we live in a culture that normalizes the pursuit of appearances, possessions, and selfish gain, feelings of awkwardness and shame surface when we do not measure up in these areas. We get embarrassed that our clothes are last year’s fashion, that our vehicle costs less than the neighbor’s, or that our house is smaller than our guest’s. We apologize for the worn carpet, make excuses for the outdated kitchen, or point out specifically why we haven’t updated the countertops yet. Because those pursuits and values have become normalized, we are prone to feel embarrassment over them—even if there is nothing wrong with the things we already have. This experience (or fear) of embarrassment fuels our urge to own more.But what would happen if we stopped getting embarrassed over the wrong things and started pursuing the right things? What if, instead of being embarrassed over the brand of our clothing, we became embarrassed over the size of our walk-in closet? What if, instead of being embarrassed over the type of car we drive, we became embarrassed over how often we take that luxury for granted? What if, instead of being embarrassed because our house is too small, we became embarrassed over the amount of unused space within it? What if, instead of being embarrassed over the quality and quantity of our possessions, we became embarrassed over how much money we have spent on our own selfish pursuits? What if excess became the embarrassment? And responsible living that championed generosity became the norm?" Call me old school, but you'll find me carrying around a real camera in 2015 or not taking them at all #bepresent (that last part, the hashtag, that's a joke)
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Dear Nick,
Your birthday is on Tuesday. This year, you would have been 26-years-old. The last birthday we celebrated with you here on earth, you turned 13. I can vividly remember your last earthly birthday. Mom and dad bought you a Schwinn BMX bike and you were absolutely ecstatic. Seriously Nick, the biggest smile I have ever seen. Do you want to know what hurts more than losing you Nick? Losing my memories of you. I promised myself I would never forget that huge smile, or booming laugh, or innocent brown eyes, or huge heart. And yet, if I'm completely honest with you and the rest of the world, I find myself forgetting. I think that the counselors who gently taught us " the stages of grief" forgot to mention a stage: grieving what you forget. I hate that I feel like I am beginning to forget parts of you, and yet I try to give myself grace, remembering that it was never my plan to live this life without you. Nick, I trust his plan for me and our family. I thank God daily for pictures that remind me of who you were, and who our family was before this monster named grief crept in. I ask God daily for clear memories of you and that your legacy of love will continue to live on in our community. It is so important for me to one day, tell my kids all about their Uncle Nick. Although my memories are not as clear as I imagined they would be 13 years later, there are things that I do remember. You lived one of the most inspiring lives of anyone I know. You wore your heart on your sleeve. You had a genuine understanding of what life was truly about. You cared about people, Nick. You wanted to make sure everyone had a friend. You were so stinking goofy. You instigated. You were an incredible athlete. You protected. You loved Jesus with all of your being. One of my favorite memories? You loved tradition and you loved Christmas. Rewind 13 years ago on Christmas Eve and you, me, and Olivia would be sitting in the living room watching A Christmas Story all night long trying to catch mom fill our stockings. (I think I get my love for all things Christmas from you). You made me better. You are a memory, and the best one I could ask for. Thanks for making better as I strive to tell a better story. Nick, I so badly wish that this year, life was as simple as celebrating a Schwinn BMX bike. It's hard to believe that this year, we are remembering you the same amount of years we were celebrating with you. We ask God for peace, perseverance, and purpose every day as we remember you Nick. All of my love, Your little sister, Haley For as long as I can remember, I have been a lover of all things Christmas. I find the season incredibly enchanting and magical. The twinkling lights, the smell of fresh pine needles, snow slowly falling, fresh cookies in the oven, I love it all.
Growing up, I kept my family on point when Christmas rolled around. I would force my dad to hang lights on the outside of the house despite weather conditions, beg to cut down a real tree instead of setting up an artificial one, and Christmas music would begin the day after Thanksgiving. Well, two years ago, my mom made the decision to hang matching stockings instead of our childhood ones from birth, and this year the childhood ornaments remained in the tub, can you imagine my utter disappointment? (I know you will read this mom, and don't worry I do forgive you). Not much has changed as I've gotten older. I still love all things Christmas. In fact, I have to admit that Austin and I cut down our tree and had it decorated a full week before Thanksgiving. The stockings may or may not have already been hung before the tree came home, and lights went up on our house this past weekend. We didn't at all forget the importance of celebrating gratitude, but we truly are so grateful for the birth of Jesus. I don't think my eagerness and love for all things Christmas will ever dissipate. I think I will always love our house the most when it is ready for Christmas. But more than the decorations, the tree, the music, the food, I hope I am always captivated by the best gift of the season. I hope there is always the enchantment and magic that only the anticipation of Jesus's birth can bring. And maybe this year you aren't in enthused by the season or one bit enchanted by the preparations. Maybe this year you've experienced unbearable loss, fought against illness, swam through debt, faced racial discrimination, and you're wondering how long you have to wait until God brings justice (listen to this Friends, prepare Him room. Let him transform your heart and bring you peace that no material Christmas gift could ever bring. Enjoy some of my favorite views currently at the Stone household. (Side note if you're on the tight "post-grad school budget", check out Goodwill for deals. We found a handful of great pieces there or refurbished things we already at home in our attic). |
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Hi! I'm Haley. Archives
May 2019
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