My response


Brain things / Tuesday, January 30th, 2018

Thank you so much for your confessions and insights on social media in the past week. They brightened my days with adult thoughts. You had good things to say; thank you for saying them, and for being honest about the questions you have and the temptations you struggle with.

(Long winded is my favorite, FYI.)

Your addiction language made me stop and think. You talked about quitting and abstinence and freedom and fasting and using. Hm. This is insightful, and cause for more thought.

I guess you know, though, that even those of you who abstain from some forms of social media are on another right now – a blog. And you are thinking about issues because of it, speaking the truth of what you believe and how you are growing. You are encouraging others, and using your online platform for good.

The struggle to engage, and engage well, has a purpose.

I will have more to say on this issue at some point, but I prefer to wait until after speaking about it in person, and so I am going to let it rest for now, except for one word picture.


Tonight I took my six children behind our house to the sledding hill. Ryan had to be away, and sledding was the only engrossing activity I could think of that we weren’t already sick of. It was work to get everyone bundled and out there and the wind was cold, but my big kids are more help than they used to be and the laughter and whooping was glorious therapy.

When I was a child, I used to think what a bummer it was that I had to march so painfully uphill between rides. Why couldn’t it ALL be the chill and effortless coasting? But tonight, I realized that each time I landed at the bottom of that heavenly hill, I was cold – my cheeks were numb and I had snow up my pant legs. The walk – that uncomfortable march uphill, encumbered with baggage – was what got my blood pumping to my fingertips, my heart rate up, my face toasty.

The struggle to engage, and engage well, has a purpose.

And so perhaps the goal, in all the life things, is not so much the effortless perfection as it is the stopping now and then when you are cold, to evaluate and think and march back uphill: to take the break, to warm the heart, to regain your bearings, to hold a human hand.


This is not a profound post. But it is all I have to say for now. Thanks again.

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