Appetite for Distraction

<p>I set my phone down, weary of the constant bombardment of images, ideas, and notifications that the little screen broadcasted. Then, I picked it up and turned it on again. <em>Why?</em></p> <p>In his 2013 book <em>The Shallows</em>, Nicholas Carr describes how the internet has shaped our relationship with stillness: &ldquo;What the Net seems to be doing is chipping away my capacity for concentration and contemplation. Whether I&rsquo;m online or not, my mind now expects to take in information the way the Net distributes it: in a swiftly moving stream of particles. Once I was a scuba diver in the sea of words. Now I zip along the surface like a guy on a Jet Ski.&rdquo;</p> <p>Living life on a mental jet ski doesn&rsquo;t sound healthy. But how do we begin to slow down, to dive deeply into still spiritual waters? &nbsp;</p> <p>In Psalm 131, David writes, &ldquo;I have calmed and quieted myself&rdquo; (v. 2). David&rsquo;s words remind me that I have responsibility. Changing habits starts with <em>my choice</em> to be still&mdash;even if I must make that choice over and over again. Slowly, though, we experience God&rsquo;s satisfying goodness. Like a little child, we rest in contentment, remembering that He alone offers hope (v. 3), soul-satisfaction that no smartphone app can touch and no social media site can deliver. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</p>