A friend whom I hadn’t seen for quite a few months joined our home group Wednesday night. We met face-to-face. Online. She talked about the blessings technology, which makes it possible to meet together, and about the benefits of slowing down. She had a smile on her face and a heart full of gratitude. As she talked, I felt refreshed, encouraged, and inspired. I hungered for what she had.
The next morning I knocked my spare pair of reading glasses off my computer desk. They landed on the hardwood floor and the frame split in half. Earlier in the week, the frame of my prescription reading glasses snapped in two. What was my reaction when the second pair of glasses broke? I laughed. Yes, I laughed. In. Relief.
I finally understood that I need to slow down. My eyesight is good enough so I can write without my glasses, but it’s more difficult, takes more time, and causes eye strain. So it forces me to slow down. Maybe that’s not so bad.
Maybe by slowing down, I will become more like my friend. Instead of complaining about technology, I will express gratitude for it. Instead of grumbling about the loss of face-to-face social connection in the form I prefer, I will be thankful for the connection that’s possible. In doing so, my contentment will likely increase. Maybe by slowing down, I will hear more clearly what Jesus’ words are to me about my use of energy and time during this coronavirus pandemic.
- Am I seeing what Jesus is seeing?
- How do my values align with his?
- Am I resisting change?
- Wanting to hang on to old ways of doing things?
In observance of social distancing, I could put on my face mask, visit the optical center, and try to find a glasses frame that fits my intact prescription lenses. Would that be a necessary trip? Something that requires immediate attention?
I decided against it. In a month I have an appointment with my eye doctor, who can check out my vision and find out if it has changed. Why would I spend the extra money and time to find and purchase a glasses frame that I might use for only a month. No. I will put up with a bit of discomfort, focus less on reading and writing, and more on listening, moving, and thinking.
Yesterday’s beliefs Like my old pair of eyeglasses, With out-of-date frames and untrue magnifications, They limit and distort my vision. When I “look” through them my focus is blurred, My judgment is nearsighted, And conclusions are clearly false. Even so, I keep that old directive— Just in case my new “lenses” prove defective. I can’t too quickly accommodate change. Jane Ault 4/30/2020