Facetime

I am currently going through withdraw.

It is embarrassing to admit, 

but they say that admitting there is a problem

is the first step towards recovery, right?

Intervention occurred in the form of intimidation, but not the typical friends and family joining forces to pull me away from my vice type of intervention.  It would have HAD to happen that way. Few people would have seen what was happening to me, as I was always careful not to seem to have a dependence on it. In truth, some people can handle this 'drug'...like my sister, who has as much access to it as I do, but doesn't have the impulsive need to take from it like I do. or did. She's cool like that.

My Facebook account has been deactivated. 

Due to several unsettling breaches in my account from multiple unknown 'sources' that intimidated (freaked) me out enough to impulsively take it all down, I have been cut off from the world that created a small, but beloved, cheering section (which a Sanguine simply can not resist), opportunity for silly banter in the form of a long string of comments and a chance to "meet" new friends through mutual friends and/or shared interest. There are truly great connections and moments of levity that can actually occur through this social network.I loved the interactions with my friends! It's just that, as I am coming to realize, I loved it a little too much.


Facebook makes trips to unwanted destinations to it's users incredibly effortless. It is a slippery slope down the road of comparison (Whatever, Darla McFarley. Do you have to keep publicly praising God that your 10 month old slept 13 hours straight thanks to your plentiful supply of breast milk and that you love watching your older ones read out loud to each other?), dumping you quickly into the Land of Discontent(*sigh*, Mildred Fenstamacher's family vacation pictures look right out of 'Town and Country' magazine! Must be nice to be on vacation and look the Ralph Lauren model at every click of the camera), then straight to the welcoming City of Self-Righteousness (Gee whiz. I would never be out partying like Sally Longenecker does-and dressed like that! She's gonna pay for this someday..let's see her kids rise up and call her blessed!). 

It is also brilliant tool for self-promotion -particularly one's amazing humility. And spirituality.  It is  the front section (StarTracks) of People Magazine, except instead of celebrities, it's any and every one you've ever known...and when you find yourself in the mix (and in a pose you like!), you can't help be pleased you were caught having fun and looking fetching while doing so. There are people, *coughmecough*, who even without intending it, somehow get their thinking so warped that they actually deep down HOPE they'll be photographed and posted or thanked publicly. They look forward to a little red box with a number on it at the top of their screen like they used to hope for a postcard or letter in their mailbox. It is terribly embarrassing for these kind of people to admit such desperate love of attention, but it must be said in order to effectively be rehabilitated!




*Disclaimer: This is NOT A post about the 'evils' of Facebook. Many people can handle this with much more grace and restraint than a flimsy little Sanguine such as myself. There are plenty of guilt trips articles written on what Facebook has done and is doing to our psyche and why we should abstain from it. This is not one of them. This post is about my journey, my perspective on a post-Facebook life and what God is illuminating to me. How's that for an egotistical summary?

There is a constant flow of thought in the process of removing the effects (both good and bad) of the social medium I never even participated in until three years ago. I had NO idea it held such power in my  life, until it is no longer is there waiting for me. I wonder "What was life like before this?"..."How did it become such a  monster in my life?". I did not post ALL the time. Never did I play games on it, post my location, share my agenda, etc. I thought I was a moderate user. As it turns out, I thought wrong.


***


The day after my 'intervention', was one of the longer days of motherhood. Not because I wasn't on Facebook, per se, but because it must have been full moon and the children-the whole lot of them- were miserable. The second hand on the clock moved like molasses. Thus, when the pre-dinner hours came along, it was sink or swim (drive). So we drove. We drove and I turned the music up so loud they couldn't here me. It was Christmas music and it took me to a happy place as we zipped past farm and dale.


I came home to find a sunny yellow bag waiting for me on the porch. The beautifully written note atop it said 'Mommy's Break Bag". Wow! A tangible expression of care! Just when  I needed it! And she didn't read desperation in my facebook status, as there was no status to be read! Wait a minute. GOD can WORK and USE OUR GIFTS without a middle social network!?!?! Wowzer! Way to go, God! (I know how ridiculous it reads. I had never thought it, exactly, but I was kinda using the 'knowing what's going on so I can encourage' justification to stay on it).

This particular friend is one of the most thoughtful, deep and caring people I have had the pleasure of knowing. We haven't known each other all of our lives, but it sure feels like I've known her longer than I have! Last night we were going to go here, but because my husband wouldn't get home until after the event was over, she suggested we go out later to one of her favorite little coffee shops...just so we could get out.

While we were sipping our sodas and raking over life, something came back to me.

Before Facebook, there was Facetime. 

When visits with a friend were even more cherished

and social needs met through it more thoroughly

because there wasn't an artificial sense that they were already half-met.

Does that make sense?

It did to me.

We went coffee-shop hopping.

The place we landed at for dessert was bursting with color and character, not unlike the place we enjoyed dinner. As I sat drinking my favorite autumnal drink, a cup of creamy, sweet Chai, I witnessed the most adorable little curly haired girl doing

her darndest to engage Kris Kingle's third cousin once removed into a conversation about the "Barrel of Monkeys" she held in her chubby hands.

He did not seem to know how to handle this little cherubs friendly
(persistant) banter, yet I could tell he did not mind it.

There seemed to be a loneliness about him and wondered if God had sent that little girl to pierce it with her exuberant tirade about her monkeys.

God knows our hearts. 

He knows our needs-from the social to the unexplainable. 

Better than we know all or any of it ourselves.

If I am able to give Him the space and time to show me,

instead of filling it up with mindless forays into places like Facebook,

I am reminded that His remedies are far more effective, deep reaching

and custom tailored than any that Mark Zuckerburg-or the folks at Google+ or Tweets who Twitter-could possibly develop.

God is not into mass marketing in meeting the needs of many.

He's into taking His time to custom meet mine. And yours.

Why would I want less when i could have more?

I am thankful I was forced into "rehab" so that I could question this.

***

Sigh. My apologies. I did not mean for this to be so lengthy. If you're still with me, I thank you. Remember, this was not a judgement post on Facebook. I still think it's nifty in it's basic function and think highly of those who use it (like everyone i know!). It's just that it overtook me, I didn't know it but now I do and I know I'm too weak to stay on the edge of it. I needed to walk away completely to see clearly.