Kennebunkport Coffee Shop

Early morning Tuesday, we caught a ride to the airport for a trip to Maine.

We aren’t expert travelers yet.  We overpacked.  We checked too much luggage.  While we’ve been to other countries and this has provided some level of experience, but we simply aren’t experts yet.  It was highly likely that we would forget something along the way.  That something turned out to be my phone (which also happens to function as a computer and a camera).

Immediately, my first reaction was to shriek in horror, as if I suddenly realized that someone had removed my arm without my noticing.  I didn’t shriek, but my brain panicked.  A million thoughts flew.

What will I do without it?  How will I eat?  How will I know what the rest of the world is doing or stalk people on Twitter?  How will people know I’m alive if I don’t “Like” someone’s post on Facebook?  Will others understand when I don’t respond to their emails?  What about texts?  People certainly expect me to respond nearly immediately.  How will I Google any random thought that I have in the middle of the night?

It was then that I realized, for the thousandth time, that my job in life is not to be connected to the world at all times.  And for the thousandth time I realized how much I feel the need to be accepted or significant to others. My job is not to please others, or, perhaps, even respond to them.  My role is beyond those things.  I love my God and I must love my wife greatly.  And I will love others without sacrificing the relationship of utmost importance in my life.

So while in Maine, which might as well be a foreign world, I don’t have my phone.

And in my heart, I love my wife more than my phone.

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