I have unplugged from Facebook for Lent. Being someone who is in recovery from an eating disorder, using food as a means for fasting is never a wise choice. Because, you might not know this about people with eating disorders, but we can nail the depriving ourselves thing really really well. Too well. That’s not helpful, nor is it spiritual and pardon my French, but it sure as hell defeats the purpose. That is straight up (but figuratively) feeding the devil that lives within us. We can out not eat anyone. Huh?
Anyway, I notice a few things immediately when I put Facebook down:
- I look at my phone less. Well, first it starts with staring at my phone, but finding nothing useful to do with it. Then I start getting caught up on current events (the ones that I can stomach), but that gets old quick. And, eventually, I’m not picking it up as much anymore, because I’m not nearly as attached to it.
- Facebook has given me a need for validation that did not previously exist before. Well, I think we all need validation on some level, but Facebook feeds our validation need, until it becomes a monster. Think circa 1980’s musical Little Shop of Horrors. The need for validation gets all “FEED ME, SEYMOUR!” And so we do, because its like… right there, so we can. There’s no real reason for it aside from convenience. We were fine without it before. I mean, those of us who lived without it. Y’all are on your own who grew up with it. That shit is wired in you. Good luck and God speed to you, my friends.
- There is a lot of writing in my brain that gets wasted in one liners on Facebook posts. I could be elaborating on that stuff, and writing books, and making bank. But instead I’m all witty and hilarious in two lines on Tuesday that will quickly be forgotten until the same date rolls around next year and I repost being all, “hey, y’all, I was funny once. Look! See?” And at that point no one cares anymore.
- All that time I save. Seriously. Facebook is a time suck. You are flushing a lifetime down the drain. Stop that shit. Life is precious and short. Go live!
- Unplugging from Facebook makes me want to unplug from TV too. Eventually I realize that, while some TV is useful for relaxing, it can be as much of an addiction as picking up our stupid little phones. I have the urge to turn it off more, and go do the valuable things Facebook was keeping me from too. Like writing.
So, here I am. Writing. I am also going to try to write daily. I was going to do that privately, because not all of my thoughts need to be published, but then I decided to do it here, for accountability.
Down to the main reason I take part in Lent. We all have those things. Those things we turn to that are unhealthy for us. For many of us, Facebook is one. Think about the things you’d like to get back to. Knitting, meditating, reading, biking, running, crafting, writing, reading, praying, volunteering, playing with the kids, singing, music, painting. Whatever it is, we all have valuable things we could be doing with our time other than checking out mentally and arguing with strangers on Facebook. Things that feed our souls and feed the good in this world. Heck, maybe something that literally feeds the needy. That is why I choose to give up something in my life that has been robbing me of my living. Something that has become a crutch.
It doesn’t really matter what it is, what matters is the way we use our time doing something more valuable. THAT is what gets us closer to God. That is living. I cannot think of a better way to challenge the things that steal our joy, and to learn what rewards we will discover waiting on the other side. It is indeed the epitome of spiritual nourishing.
He withdrew about a stone’s throw beyond them, knelt down and prayed, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him. And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground. Luke 22:41-44 NIV
This is not only my favorite part of the Easter story, but quite possibly my favorite moment in the entire Bible. We know Jesus is God in human form, but this is his most human moment. I imagine the prayer/conversation going something like this (paraphrasing, of course): “So, God/father, I know I have to be crucified and all, but I was just wondering if there might be a way to get around that whole part of this? Its going to suck pretty badly, so I thought it couldn’t hurt to ask if there was any other way to do this? I mean, at the end of the day, its your will, not mine. Just wanted to check.”
Who of us would not feel like that with such a task at hand? Overwhelmed, scared, full of dread. And yet, who of us would have the strength to surrender to God’s will with such an impending fate? I love that God sent an angel to strengthen him. It shows the ability of God to strengthen us in times of desperate struggle. For us, the angels may be literal or figurative, referring to people that He sends. Either way, He strengthens us. He sends help. He listens to our anguish. Jesus knew the reason he came. He knew this event was unavoidable and would feel unbearable, and yet he asked God for a way out. And yet, he ultimately surrendered to God’s will. He knew his mission and the purpose, and knowing how it would feel, he ultimately agreed to it… For us.
He knew the purpose it would serve was too great.
How many times have I begged God for a way out?
How many times have I pleaded for another way?
And did he listen? Always.
And did he strengthen me to get me through? Absolutely.
And did my anguish end up serving some greater purpose, either for myself or others? Every. Single. Time.
Did my ultimate surrender to God’s will help me accept the task at hand? You bet.
God is faithful when our fears distract us. God is present in our struggle. He will give us the strength to get through and accomplish great things. He is there. He is there because He knows our anguish. He has felt it for himself. He knows our desperation and fear. He’s been there. Even when we feel like He has forsaken us, still, He remains at our side.