I told a friend once he’d know the end was near if he ever saw a tweet from me. So far he hasn’t. No one has. If you’re a person who lives life 140 clever characters at a time, by all means tweet well and often, and be happy. Or if you’re more the visual type and Instagram or Pinterest is your social medium of choice, well then snap and pin and post away.
I can’t say for certain if I’ve missed the personal bandwidth boat or simply stubbornly avoided it–nor can I say that I really get what a hash tag is for. What I can say is this: most days, my life is not utterly fabulous. But it is good. I work for a living, and I rarely take a day off. I try to be a caring daughter, sister, aunt and friend to the people I love most. I worship. I pray. I study and write and read. I volunteer. I walk the dog. I tend to what author Kathleen Norris has called “the quotidian mysteries”–a fancy way of saying I cook and clean and shop and keep house–all very ordinary but necessary things. I don’t do any of these things in the company of celebrities, or while wearing fabulous outfits. Not every day for me is a stellar hair day; I believe given a choice, barefoot is usually best.
Sometimes I visit places that might be considered “tweet-able,” and occasionally I do take pictures. But I’m as likely to come away with a close-up of a single drop of dew on a magnolia leaf or an odd hand made sign as I am to snap a lush landscape, a flattering selfie, or a famous landmark.
You might think I lead a boring life–but I’ve had secret joys no photo has yet to tease or tweet to trumpet. I see things. Hear things. Feel things. Ordinary, amazing things. In time I may talk or write about them. Or not. But I try to be fully present and live them first. I’m not bullet proof. I fall. Literally and figuratively. I mess things up, ask forgiveness, and if I can, try and make them right. I get hurt and cry real tears, just like you. But #uglycrybefore6am isn’t likely to be trending–nor is #
But know this: every person you see today leads a life that is in some way exceptional. Whether they’ve tweeted it or not, everyone has a story. It may be tragic or comic, epic or ordinary, challenging or comfort-filled. Don’t assume just because they haven’t advertised they have nothing of value to say. Instead of promoting your own prettied-up narrative or perusing those of a dozen dazzling others, try this: turn to someone near you, look them in the eye, and say something like this: “Tell me about your day. And not just the pretty parts. I really want to know.”
Then tell me. Because I want to know, too. And because I’m certain there is much, much more to us than meets the naked app.
O Lord, you have examined my heart
and know everything about me.
You know when I sit down or stand up.
You know my thoughts even when I’m far away.
You see me when I travel
and when I rest at home.
You know everything I do.
You know what I am going to say
even before I say it, Lord.
You go before me and follow me.
You place your hand of blessing on my head.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, (Psalm 139:1-5)
Very well said!