Showing posts with label texts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label texts. Show all posts

Monday, January 13, 2025

Griffin's Texting Birthday

I’ll never forget that day. 

It was a Friday

And my sister was in labor with her first child. 

I was in divinity school at the time and

I had become good friends with someone who texted a lot. 

Until that point in my life, I had texted no one. 

On that day, though,  

19 years ago, 

At the hospital, waiting for Griffin to fly into the world,

I sent my first text to my text-loving friend,

And I haven’t looked back since! 

 

In those early days,

Text messages had a 130-character limit.

You paid to send and receive text messages

And so texting could be rather expensive. 

But I didn’t care.

It was new. 

And it was fun. 

And it allowed me to keep in touch with people without talking on the phone!

 

Now, I can’t imagine my life without it!

 

It’s amazing what a simple text can do.

An out of the blue thinking of you, 

A conversation easier to write than to say,

A joke,

A prayer,

A meme,

A picture,

From upstairs,

From across the country or world,

A text can literally change the course of someone’s day. 

A text can literally save someone’s life.

And a text is not hard to send.

 

No more 130 character limits.

No more tapping on the number 2 three times to get the letter C .

No more pay as you go. 

Just a qwerty keyboard for most

And an opportunity to influence someone’s life for the better for all.

 

I know.

Texts can be harmful too.

Cyber bullying is real and harmful and must be watched. 

But today, 

On my Griffin’s 19th birthday,

On this day that dramatically changed my life, 

I want to extol the goodness of texting 

And encourage you to use it for good. 

 

God—

You have given humankind the ability to think of cool things like texting. 

It blows my mind that written 

Words can invisibly fly through the air 

And make it to somewhere else

In a moment’s time. 

Thank you. 

Now, let us use those moments and texts for good. 

Amen. 

 

Thursday, January 1, 2015

One Who Shows Up

I was up until 5 this morning gathering and saving words from 2014. Conversations. Songs. Messages of affirmation. My walls are filled with words—artistic renditions of inspirational sayings, poignant painting titles, memories of the circumstances and words attached with sketches. My paper files are filled with words—cards sent in the mail, notes received at work, scraps of paper collected at retreats. My computer files are filled with words—e-mails, texts, poems, letters. As I’ve said before, words are both my salvation and my kryptonite.

I found some interesting texts last night. Ones that made me think. Ones that allowed me both to reflect backward and imagine forward. And here are the ones that I keep thinking about today:

First, one that I wrote: “I’m listening to a Sara Groves’ CD that I haven’t heard in a few years. Sara Groves is my favorite singer/songwriter. In the song, I think she perfectly captures my desire to know people: ‘And at the risk of wearing out my welcome, at the risk of self discovery, I'll take every moment, and every minute that you'll give me.’”

Next, one that I received during a conversation about a gift-giving crisis that I’ve been having—mainly about how some people willingly accept gifts while others see gifts with strings attached: “You have to choose the right people.”

Finally, one that I received while discussing future vacation plans: “She’s always shown up. I’m going to spend this year focusing on people who show up rather than worrying about the rest.”



I wrote a poem the other day:

I saw you as approachable and kind,
A good hearted-soul, called to serve and give.
I gave you my confidence and trust
And you shattered them against the walls of your box.

I cared for you and chose you as friend.
Yet you saw me as someone who singled you out
Not because of genuine desire to know you
But out of malicious intent to do you harm.

I was not your past.

Yet present and future have turned to past
As zoning out with eyes glazed-over is not my idea of friendship.
One-sided conversation with one-word responses void of trust and vulnerability
Is not worth walking on eggshells while carrying the shards of a constantly breaking heart.

I saw you as approachable and kind,
A good hearted-soul, called to serve and give.
I was wrong.
I am cleaning up my mess.
I am leaving you to the walls of your box.




I think maybe the right people—
The ones with whom it’s safe to risk self-discovery—
The ones with whom I can rest in the desire to spend
Every moment and minute that they’ll give—
Are the ones who daily choose to step outside the walls of self-preservation,
Show up,
And risk the same.

Dear God,
this year,
help me be a friend who shows up.
And help me
focus on and surround myself
with the same.
Love.
Always, love.
Amen.

Monday, August 25, 2014

Defining Moments: Texting Love and Heartbreak

I began texting on January 13, 2006.

I remember the day and those first texting moments because they occurred while I was waiting for Griffin to enter this world.

Even though I still have what most people consider a dumb phone, things have changed drastically in my texting life since those first moments of filling in the blanks. Yes. I actually wrote out 160 blanks so that I could maximize the messages that I was planning to send!

I now have unlimited texting and send thousands of texts per month. I no longer have to look at what I’m writing to write something that actually makes sense. And I no longer use my phone to talk to people on a regular basis; instead, for better or for worse, my people and I usually just write.

So I knew something was off when I received a text Saturday that said, “Call me. It’s an emergency.”
And it was an emergency.
So I called.
And in the days since that call, I have written countless texts that I never imagined I’d write—some of which have turned into accidental poetry:
I just keeping shaking my head.
I don’t even know how to think.
Like my thoughts don’t formulate.
I start to speak and nothing really comes out.
There’s nowhere to begin or end.
There’s just no making sense of this.

One of which makes me cry every time I think of it:
He’s dead.

Another of which is the most important thing you or I can ever say to one another:
I love you so much.

I suppose it sounds trivial to say that the day I began to text was a defining moment in my life. Yet right now, during one of the most heart-breaking times of my life, I am beyond grateful to be able to communicate to those I love, anytime I want, middle of the night included:
I’m with you.
You are never, ever alone.
We will make it through this. Together. Somehow.
I love you so much.
I love you so very, very much…

------

My best friend’s five-month old son, Sam, died Saturday afternoon. This is the link to his obituary. Please pray for his family: http://www.oppfh.com/new_view.php?id=5341434

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Baked Beans, Mr. Potato Head, Fair Maiden, and A Purr Box


Well, friends. She’s done it again. The sleep texter struck last night.

One minute I was reading and perfectly awake. The next minute I was asleep, only I didn’t realize it (as can be evidenced when I answer the question: are you still asleep). I suppose that my brain knew that I was having a conversation and that I hadn’t said good night—which I will do if I am having a conversation with you at night—I always like to end a conversation so that I know it’s over—so every time I woke up my brain evidently felt as if I needed to continue talking…and it just so happened that who I was talking to was up doing homework and kind enough to respond to my insanity (and exploit my sleepiness :-)).

So now, for your reading pleasure, I present to you, “Baked Beans, Mr. Potato Head, Fair Maiden, and a Purr Box.”

Me, 9:36pm: It’s Sabbath night for me, so I’m just reading.
Friend, 9:37pm: Nice. Enjoy :-)
Me, 9:38pm: It’d be nice to have hot chocolate :-).
Friend, 9:39pm: :-)
Me, 9:44pm: I’m actually enjoying this book. It’s WMU history. I don’t usually like istory, so it’s weird that I’m enjoying this.
Friend, 9:52pm: I’m glad you’re enjoying it! My calves hurt :-(.
Me, 11:57pm: Hey. Are you still awake? I fell asleep reading. It’s one of my talents :-).
Me, 12:00m: Happy December! :-)
Friend, 12:00am: :-)
Me, 12:01am: HEY!! :-) What are you doing?
Friend, 12:01am: Working on homework.
Me, 12:01am: All my lights are on. Hehe.
Me, 12:02am: Good job for working on your homework.
Me, 12:05am: How are you?
Friend, 12:05am: I’m good. Are you still asleep?
Me, 12:07am: Why no I am not. I have just moved to my spacious bed. I am right in the very middle. And I must say. My bed, away from the space heater, hosting me in my pajamas, is much cooler than the couch. I feel likes being cooler.
Me, 12:10am: I don’t really like onions. You know that. But some things are just plain better with onions than without. Baked beans are one of them. Shhhh. Don’t tell!
Friend, 12:15am: :-)
Me, 12:16am: Mr. POTATO HEAD! I never played with him. But. He could be fun. Creating new identities and such. Especially with a mustache.
Friend, 12:18am: :-)
Me, 12:23am: Exactly what portion of your homework morsels are you working to digest?
Me, 12:37am: How is your working, my fair maiden?
Friend, 12:44am: Fine. Hahaha.
Me, 12:45am: Tis great to hear and music to my ears.
Friend, 12:51am: Hahahaha.
Me, 12:57am: Why do humans not have a purr box like cats? That would be helpful in relatiedships, you know?:
Friend, 12:58am: A purr box? Going to sleep now. Hope you’re sleeping well.
Me, 2:47am: Good night for real. Hehe. I just had the oddest dream! Couldn’t make it up the hill. Light out this time.

Me, 8:00am: Good morning. Sorry I fell asleep on you last night. I was reading and then sleeping.
Friend, 8:30am: You should read the texts you sent last night.
Me, 8:35am: Hahahahaha! Oh my. Where in the world was my brain?! I guess you figured out I was asleep :-). Did you laugh at me?
Friend, 9:49am: Yep. I was laughing a lot :-).

FYI: I also wrote my mom in my sleep, telling her that I was asleep when she wrote me—that I had fallen asleep reading—but that I was up and moving to my bed—and that I loved her. It’s always important to tell your mom you love her before going to bed, right? :-)