
In a world where people profit from being trolls, it is no wonder we often feel pitted against one another, or, at the very least, carry a pit in our stomachs.
Social media doles out false narratives, exaggerated tales, and snippets of truth.
We are inundated with information, so much that we no longer trust truth to be true. Worse, much of this overstimulation is intentional, designed to keep us scrolling, reacting, and distracted.
And at what cost?
A war could be developing in our homes, workplaces, communities, or around the world, and we might barely notice.
We charge our phones only to pick them up and dull our minds.
Early in my career, I returned phone calls and emails promptly. This was before texts, social media posts, reels, alerts, blurbs, and videos became a constant chorus demanding attention. Now, much of what we say is posted and answered in reaction rather than with intention.
We respond faster but with little room for empathy or understanding.
We consume more but retain little.
We have thousands of contacts within reach, yet too often fail to reach the person sitting beside us.
Artificial intelligence can now produce stories in voices that resemble our own, even mimicking our tempo and tenor. Used well, it can help. Used to excess, it steals the struggle that teaches us.
Life has struggle built in; yet there is a difference between picking up something heavy enough to matter and having it imposed upon you.
Taking responsibility gives suffering purpose rather than merely feeling oppressed.
In our suffering, we often gain more than just a desired outcome. We develop patience, discernment, interpersonal skills, and often faith.
There is an irony in humans becoming more robotic while asking machines to become more human. Who will be left to appreciate the art of creating, learning, and even the necessity of failing?
Perhaps we should take a lesson from nature. A tree does not strain to grow overnight, nor does a river panic when rocks alter its course. Creation moves according to the rhythm established by its Creator: purposefully, patiently, and without apology.
Jesus also refused to be ruled by urgency.
Crowds pressed.
People begged for healing.
Others demanded answers.
Still, Scripture tells us, “Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed” (Luke 5:16).
If the Son of God stepped away from the noise, what makes us believe we can live faithfully without doing the same?
Perhaps the greatest threat is that we may grow so addicted to instant answers that we dull our ability to think deeply, love intentionally, or listen to God.
We stay plugged in, in part, because silence might reveal that we have borrowed our thoughts rather than formed them.
We need not abandon technology, but we must stop allowing it to determine the pace and posture of our souls.
A friend recently reminded me of the importance of taking a Sabbath.
Set down the phone. Sit beneath a tree. Look into someone’s eyes. Let a prayer continue past the point when you run out of words.
And allow silence to feel uncomfortable until it becomes sacred.
This column was originally published by CherryRoad Media. For more faith-based columns and inspirational writing by Tiffany Kaye Chartier, follow her on Facebook. Her devotional collection “The 4-Minute Reset: For Cultivating Peace, Purpose, and Positivity” is available on Amazon and other major online retailers.
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