After returning to the States from France, there are a few things I now possess that I didn't have before. One is a belly that has curiously become much more perpendicular. I attribute this partially to the genetically modified foods or the steroids in meat and dairy products one finds here. But I think it mostly has to do with the size of Chipotle's burritos.
Another recent acquisition for me on American soil has been an iPhone. Our team of tech-savvy Gen-Xers and Millennials had been after me for a while to get one. I imagine just so they could have the option of FaceTiming me or syncing calendars or whatever other convenience my lack of a smartphone deprived their sad, young lives of. But in the end, I got an iPhone not for its hipness factor but because it was the cheapest option for the family the day I walked into the Verizon store. At least that's what the guy named Jeffrey with the man-bun told me.
So now we all have pretty decent cameras on our phones. Which is why I couldn't figure out why my daughter keeps needing to borrow mine. Until I realized that my phone acts as her back up when she has used all her battery listening to Spotify or watching incessant vlogs of her favorite teen dystopian romance book reviewers.
So occasionally I will reach for my phone to catch an important photo, like someone blowing out birthday candles, a beautiful fading sunset, or the 49ers actually scoring a touchdown. Furiously scrolling to the camera icon so as not to miss the proverbial Kodak moment, I point the camera to its intended subject and what do I see? My own squinting face staring back at me from the screen. And it usually takes a moment for me to realize that my daughter has once again left my camera in selfie mode. And the important moment meant to be captured and preserved ends up completely missed.
So often the lens through which I observe people and events in my world is pitifully stuck in selfie mode. God brings certain scenarios into my field of vision and too often the significance of the moment and what He wishes to show me is missed. All because the eyes of my heart are self-focused. And though I should be seeing injustice or opportunity or something life-changing whose image should capture my attention, arrest my heart and stay with me forever, all I see is how a certain thing affects me or interferes with what's mine.
How sad if I have the opportunity to visit a thousand landscapes but come home with only self-portraits. I will have nothing to show for my journey other than a big wide world filled with me. But really only God is worthy to take up that much space. He told us early on in His word that we are not to make for ourselves any image that competes with Him for our focus or affection.
It only takes the swipe of a finger to get a smartphone out of selfie mode. God can easily do the same for us with just a simple touch of our hearts. We just need to give him access to the icon.
