Connected

 (I've been essentially snowed-in all weekend.  Truth be known, I could escape the confines of the house if I wanted--I did venture out briefly yesterday, to reset the security system after an annoying false alarm.  But for the most part, I'm in a sort of self-imposed house arrest.  It's not a bad thing, certainly: I've gotten to spend quiet, unscheduled, unhurried time with my beloved wife; I've taken care of a few chores around the place that have gotten back-burnered in the course of busy weeks; I've caught up considerably on sleep, perhaps too much so; and I've managed to even do a bit of thinking along the way.

The funny thing about being snowed-in in the twenty-first century is that there's really no such thing as being isolated by it any more.  Time was, even a few short decades ago when I was a boy, that we often had no telephone reception when the heavy snows came, and the only real interaction we had was with family and snow and cattle.  But that's certainly changed!  I'm now connected to the world at large, friendly or not, by telephone, cellular phone, internet, mobile, cellular internet (just in case the old-fashioned hard-wired kind should go out!), and a satellite dish that brings about 900 channels into our living room while rarely affording anything I deem worthy of lifting my head off the sofa to observe.

We connected, all right--all of us are!  Nowadays, grandmas and grandpas are just as apt to have cell phones and personal digital assistants as teenagers are, and nursery-schoolers as much so as grad-schoolers.  We're a thoroughly connected world, at least in electronic terms.  But what worries me is the tremendous extent to which we have come to substitute this sort of "being in touch" for the actual physical touch of those we love.  How much easier it is to text than to confront someone!  If you doubt it, read the headlines:  today's USAmericans (let alone the rest of the world) announce births and deaths digitally, propose marriage and business, accept proposals both of matrimony and of commerce, all without having to breathe the same air for even an instant as those to whom we profess to be connected.

And what of God in all of this?  If we can't be troubled to talk on the phone, but only to text, if we substitute IM for letter-writing and LOL's for hugs, how are we to remember the humanity of the Godhead, distilled and condensed and squeezed into the form of a perfect man, a teacher, who came not because He sought to connect with us, but because He wanted to rescue us.  How can God hope to fair any better than bff's and gf's and bf's in a world that can't be troubled to even give a relationship a real name, settling instead for meaningless abbreviations?  How can God honestly hope that we will sit down and bathe ourselves in His Word to us?  How can He hope that we will feel the onionskin paper and smell the leather and bask in the warmth of His Words of Life?

For my part, I want a change!  Much as I use electronic means to communicate, I want to trade in some Facebook and e-mail and MMS and SMS (which is which? I can never remember anyhow!) for some true connection.  Instead of LOL'ing and ROFL'ing, I want to spend more time sharing belly-laughs and falling out of chairs from the sheer joy of laughter that will not be quieted by the stroke of an "enter" key or a "send" button.  I learned a valuable lesson some years ago from a young child, who is now a grown man and a great blessing to me.  Having received a lift home after Bible study one night--perhaps about our third meeting, I'd say--he looked over at me as he exited the truck seat and said quite plainly "I love you!"  The moment I heard it, I knew those words meant something.  You see, for many years, I've worked with young people, both as a volunteer and as a paid minister.  But the thing that's kept me working with them, and that's kept me close to many of them as they grew and matured, is this:  young people have an incapacity for "faking it".  Simply put, they do not lie easily or well.  When a young child tells you "I love you,"  it's quite often the truth.  When I inquired about what he meant, he said "Just that.  I love you.  And I always say it, because you never know when you won't see someone again, so you should never miss the chance."

I don't do it enough, I'll admit, but I try--I really try.  I don't say it lightly, and I don't say it to appease people or for appearance sake.  If I say it, it's because I mean it.  "I love you."  That's what God wants each of us to hear, as the first sound to fall on our ears each morning, and as the final whisper as we drift to sleep--the whole of history is the expression of God's love for mankind, and if we can find it in ourselves to connect--to really connect with other people, then we can be agents of God's love, as well.

Who have you said it to lately?  Whom have you hugged?  Whom have you kissed?  Whom have you patted on the back or shaken hands with or expressed in some way the depth of the love of God that resides within you?  Know that it is by our ability to share God's love that we will best experience it, and that it is by our connectedness--not our chats and our texts and our noise, but in those blessed moments when we clasp someone around the neck and squeeze and say "I love you"--it is by those moments that we will best serve the purpose of God in our lives, and in which we will best live out the likeness of our Savior.

God bless you this week as you love others in His perfect name!