 I deleted Instagram. One of the most popular social networks in the world. A photo sharing platform used by one billion people. And I’m no longer one of them.
Why? Not because it’s bad. I’m not discouraging people from using it. Instead, there’s something about Instagram that causes me to stumble. Let me explain.  Jogging is one of my favorite pastimes. Headphones on ears. Music higher than it should be. And something to track my mileage. Now, like most things, there’s an app for that. Samsung Health is my go-to.
But it’s difficult to use an app for the amount of distance I run. Anywhere between three to seven miles. And since I’m on the road for at least thirty minutes at a time, it’s inconvenient. Why? Because I’m unlocking my phone to view my current pace, distance, and time while simultaneously running. Until last Monday. That’s when I turned on my Fitbit Surge for the first time in over a year.  Do you remember doing plays as a child? I sure do. In the second grade, my class had all kinds of plays. We had decorations. We invited our parents. And they listened to our squealy, little voices while each of us played our roles.
Then, there were those plays in our reading books. Those moments when different students in the class read different characters. And oftentimes, there were more students than roles to play. Therefore, only those who wanted to participate would get a role. Likely the talkative ones. And the rest of the class would sit back and listen to the story.  Prayer is one of my biggest battles. My flesh often fights against a spiritual desire to pray. And I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because my prayers make a difference.
I recently spoke with two individuals going through tremendous difficulty. And they convinced me of something. Both of them are much older than me. More experienced in this thing called life. And here I am, a young preacher, learning to grapple with empathy. How am I supposed to speak into that level of pain? I mean, I don’t know what it’s like to be in their shoes. But I’m called to be present in their situations.  A few weeks ago, I found myself peddling the Walmart aisles for a graduation card. Honestly, I didn’t give it much effort. I knew my friend didn’t care about the type of card. Hallmark? A piece of paper folded hamburger style with stick people? He didn’t care. And neither did I. Until I found the perfect one: a card based on the book “Oh, The Places You’ll Go!” by Dr. Seuss.
I’m not so sure if he likes Dr. Seuss. But I do. The creative illustrations, catchy wordplay, and rhythmic flow awaken my inner-child. But there’s something special about “Oh, The Places You’ll Go!” Consider a couple of quotes. |