Tag Archives: create

The Disconnection Connection

Ward Creek Trail
Ward Creek Trail – Time to Think

 

 

“How do you stand it?”

The question was posed by our youngest son. After being on his own for a while, he’d stopped by for a visit. The TV was off, the radio was silenced and the stereo was resting. The only sound was the methodic ticking of a clock. 

•Again the question came: “It’s so quiet here. How do you stand it?”

I remembered this incident recently when I read about a study done by the University of Virginia and reported in the July 4, 2014 edition of Science magazine. Study subjects consisting of a broad span of ages ages were asked to spend six to 15 minutes by themselves without any external stimuli – no computer, cell phone, music, TV, magazines or books to entertain them; nothing to write with or on. Instead, they were told to occupy themselves with their thoughts – in other words, disconnect from the external world and connect with the internal world.

Most of the people who participated in the study didn’t like the experience. The researchers are not yet sure why, although they have some theories. One of their theories is that the human mind is designed to focus on the external world and when those external stimuli are removed the mind becomes uncomfortable.

•I have my own theory.

As a culture, I think we’re overstimulated. So much so that being alone with our thoughts is almost torture.

I find this hard to understand. I love to get away by myself to a quiet place and have time just to think. In fact, I deliberately create such times. I find them restful and refreshing. Life make sense again as take time to sort things out. As Victor Hugo wrote in Les Misérables, “there are many mouths that speak, and but few heads that think.”

Consider my dog. The pasture grass behind my house is taller than she is. As she romps around in the tall grass, I can only tell where she is by the rusting movements. After a few moments of this, she realizes she’s lost track of me. She leaps above the grass, looks around and finds me. Satisfied, she drops back down in the grass and resumes finding bugs are whatever it was she was doing.

I believe we must do the same. As we rustle through the tall grass of life, we need to take some time out to stick our heads above the mess and get our bearings. In other words, take time to think. Disconnect in order to connect.

What about you? Do you like being alone? Are you comfortable with disconnecting? Why or why not? What refreshes you? We’re all different. What recharges your batteries? I have a friend who recharges by being around lots of people. That works for him. Let us know what you think!

But wait, there’s more! (I’m being facetious of course, but there really is more). I’m interested in your thoughts. You can reply, send me an email, and/or help design the new monthly newsletter –

“In the beginning was the Word…”

By Mike Raether

Words. They can be spoken, written, signed, whispered, sung, and shouted. They can communicate love, comfort, and truth. They can inspire, challenge, and correct. And although words are sometimes misused, the truth remains unblemished that words were originally designed by God to be used for the good of mankind.

copyright www.sxc.hu, ID 1115823
copyright www.sxc.hu

In His wisdom, God created words to reveal truth to man. They are His chosen conduits of communication. When Jesus walked the earth, He used words to tell people about God’s love, to heal, and to save. When Jesus returned home, He continued to work in such a way that within a few hundred years the book we call the Holy Bible was completed, a book filled with words to tell us of God’s purposes and plans for man.

Why do you write? To help people become all they can be? That’s admirable. Do you write to make money? That’s OK, too, for Jesus said in Matthew 10:10, “…the worker is worthy of his support.” (NASU). I write for both reasons, and more. The convictions that fuel our writing are many and varied. And our convictions sometimes change with the seasons of our lives. But I believe that the important thing is not so much what we write and why we write, but how we approach our writing that counts.

You and I have a gift. We have the ability to communicate truth with words, the talent to sway men’s opinions and thoughts, to even change the courses of their lives. It is a God-given talent, a special ability not entrusted to many.

We have been given much – and much is required. Writing is a gift that is oft admired, but you and I know that writing is not as glamorous as it seems. It’s often a whole lot of hard work. And with the gift comes responsibility; responsibility to develop the gift of writing to its fullest potential, responsibility to be professionals, and responsibility to put our best efforts into everything we write.

From the beginning, God used words to reveal Himself and His ways to the world. And God made us partners with Him, using the medium of words. Our gift may find expression in many ways, but it is the gift of God nonetheless. As the apostle Paul once told the Corinthians, “…What do you have that you did not receive…” (1 Corinthians 4:7, NASU).

God has created us all different. No two humans have ever been created the same. We are, as Scripture says, “fearfully and wonderfully made.” And yet, we humans share many of the same likes and dislikes, and our preferences spill out into our relationship with God and the way we relate to Him. Take worship, for example. Some of us prefer traditional hymns; others like contemporary praise choruses. For some of us worship must be deeply personal, quite, and reflective. At the opposite end of the spectrum are those who celebrate God corporately with clapping, swaying, and uplifted hands.

And then there are writers. As writers, can we not approach writing as an act of worship, a special pathway of connection to God?

The next time you sit down to write, make writing an act of worship. Pause and reflect on the gift that has been giving to you. Take a deep breath and breathe out a prayer of thanks. Pick up the pen or rest your fingers on the keyboard with reverent awe. “For in the beginning was the word…”