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My phone died yesterday. Just as work drew to a close, the shiny hot pink poseur kacked. I can’t say I’m surprised. It’s more than 2 years old. I think Verizon has a small time bomb of sorts inside each phone, configured to each device’s unique setup, ready to go off sometime after reaching the 2-year mark.

It’s a strange feeling. My purse doesn’t vibrate. Facebook doesn’t ding, alerting me to a new message. I’m wondering if having a phone on me 99% of every day has contributed to an onset of ADD. I find my concentration isn’t what it used to be. Or maybe never was.

Reality is that I’ll need to get a new one. I’ve become accustomed to texting. I like the fact that Jonathon and I and chosen few can stay in contact, almost all the time. In fact, I now have entire friendships sustained by the texted phrase. Truly, it’s the best way to get in touch with my son. He doesn’t check his email; most millennials, it seems, have left old timey phone calls and even email behind in favor of more immediate applications – texting, Instagram, Snap Chat, Twitter, etc.

I keep reaching out for it, not unlike amputees who still sense their long lost limb. But my phone’s not there. It’s like an itch I can’t scratch. I keep thinking of things I want to say to people…only I can’t. I’m finding it a little lonely, out in the world alone. I feel twitchy, unsettled. Wait. Am I addicted to my phone?!

Not all two-way conversations are like this. Prayer, aka communication with the Lord, is a different story. I am so glad talking to God is as easy as opening up my mouth or heart. I don’t need a mechanical doohickey to make it happen. I don’t even need to close my eyes. I can talk to him, right here and now. No intermediary required. Checking in is easy and free. Seems like I might have time for more of it, now that I’m not so distracted.

It’s a good thing.

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