Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits. Psalm 103
I generally don’t leave home without my phone. The other day I got into the car to run to the store and, as is my custom, I gave myself a quick pat-down (once a cop, always a cop, I guess), and tapped my cell-phone pocket (the reason I wear cargo pants, besides their being so comfortable). The pocket was empty as I had apparently left my communicator in the house. I panicked, of course. I would have called 9-1-1 but didn’t have my phone. Uff da!
Consequently, I knew I was on my own; my survival would be solely dependent on the skills of my hands and the cunning of my mind (or what’s left of it). With cat-like reflexes I leapt out of the car, dashed into the house, retrieved my phone, and was back in the saddle before the vehicle’s seat cushion had even sprung back from the depression I’d made when I had originally gotten into it. Yes friends, I AM that fast.
Anyway, I found myself thinking back to the days when phones were attached to one’s house with a cord. One of my earliest memories (true story) was hearing the phone ring when I was about two or three years of age. I told my mother the phone was ringing (as she was ignoring it) and she said, “That’s not our ring.”
I had no idea what that meant. She explained we were on a party line and that each party had their own special ring. I don’t recall my response. I can only assume I was awestruck by the idea that we each had our own ring-tone, after which I no doubt spent the rest of the day contemplating the mysteries of the universe (or going down for a nap).
We have come a long way, haven’t we? Bless the Lord. Bless the Lord, indeed.
I suppose I miss the simpler days of being able to go anywhere without being conjoined with the cosmos through the miracles of technology and science. Our parents knew for the most part where we were because we told them in advance where we were going, with whom we’d be spending our time, and assuring them we’d be home in time for dinner (especially as I had a tummy more accurate than the Atomic Clock when it came to things like meals).
Believe it or not, I actually have been known to take care of business without the accompaniment of my cell phone. While I feel more comfortable with it than without it, I am secure enough in my own being that I can run my errands au naturale. How could I not dare such things? God has engraved on my heart: “Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, thou (God) art with me.”
I’ve been creeping through that valley for over seven decades now; I don’t see God wandering off and getting lost just because I didn’t think to drag along my mobile-unit with its built-in GPS for the two of us!
The bottom line for me is and always has been God’s faithfulness. While it’s nice to have a computer in one’s pocket, it isn’t essential for our continued existence. All of life is dependent on God. All we need to do is do the next indicated thing.
If we focus on the task at hand, we don’t need to fret over what we may have forgotten or neglected. Buying groceries required my wallet, not my phone, so there was really no need to panic. The good news (for me) was that the panic was extremely short-lived; retrieving the phone was a relief, but I could just as easily have gone to the store, done what I needed to, and come home to a device that would have been there awaiting my return.
Sometimes we put too much time and energy into the woulda-coulda-shouldas of life. It is enough to simply do what we need to, and leave the rest to God. When we leave the rest “to” God, we can enjoy the rest “of” God and forget not all his benefits here in this, our valley.
Keith Axberg writes on matters concerning life and faith. Author of: Who the Blazes is Jesus? Good News for a Vulgar World (available through Amazon in Print and e-book)
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