Life Without the Cartoon Thumb
I broke up with Facebook. Yes, it was like a funeral. I liked liking cat videos. I liked receiving “likes” from the cool kids from high school. But over the past year, I realized that Facebook had become a time vampire for me. I deleted my account.
Breaking up with Facebook isn’t easy. It’s like kicking yourself off the baseball team. You miss out on dugout banter and notifications of your friends’ birthdays. But I have noticed that:
- My phone has dramatically lost its gravitational pull—especially in those lull-in-the-action moments. Instead of checking Facebook to stay amused, I’ve become amused by the lull around me. I didn’t know that the people waiting at Great Clips were so interesting!
- Conversations with friends have become livelier. They’re telling me things I didn’t know and I’m telling them things they didn’t know about me. It’s fun to see their facial expressions when they tell me about a trip to Australia or a weekend of dance recitals. I don’t miss telling them “yeah-I-saw-that-on-Facebook.”
- My mind seems clearer when I read. Oddly, in my devotions, I’m seeing “deeper, wider, closer” everywhere: “just as I have loved you [deeper], you also are to love one another [closer]. By this all people will know that you are my disciples [wider], if you have love for one another” (John 13:34-35); “By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us [deeper], and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers [closer]. But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him [wider]?” (1 John 3:16-17). How weird is that?
Well, it is weird not being on Facebook. But I’m starting to like giving people more than a cartoon thumbs up.
By Gloria Wiese