My beloved significant other often refers to me as his “gadget girl.” When I asked him why this was his chosen nickname for me, he pointed to my video iPod, my Polar heart rate monitor, the docking station (that he bought for me) that connects my iPod to the television and the stereo, my GPS watch that tells me how far I’ve run, where I’ve run, how fast I ran it and then talks to my computer, conveying the same information as soon as I walk in the front door.
He then pointed out that my tiny digital camera which takes (in his words) ‘professional’ looking pictures (he has yet to learn the wonders of PhotoShop) and my pedometer that not only tells me how many steps I’ve taken, but also how many calories I’ve burned, how far I’ve gone, how many of those steps were at an aerobic pace and how many fat grams I’ve burned.
Before he could suck enough air into his gullet to feed his lungs, in order to continue his list, I interrupted and explained to him that I’m not really a ‘gadgety’ individual, that when compared to other people I know, (I won’t name any names imberly-Kay omano-Ray) who have multiple iPods, (I mean really, how many iPods does a person need) and gadgets galore, gadgets unattainable by me on my measly salary, I’m just a mere amateur.
He was not too be swayed, having been given a moment to regroup and refill his lungs, he continued rattling off my collection of ‘gadgets’ effectively lumping me into that group of techno-tards who have to be the first in line, to the point of camping out, to have the latest gadget. But he doesn’t understand that that’s just not me!
This is the reason, I’ve decided not to share with him my latest obsession. The iPhone.
Originally, I guffawed at the zealots that camped out for the initial release of the iPhone over a year ago. I doubled over cramping in laughter when I heard that they paid upwards of $600-$700 dollars FOR A CELLPHONE!
A few months ago, I was minding my own, sitting in the control room at church taking a break between sessions of C3 when a friend of mine sat down beside me and showed me the picture of the elephant (which was standing outside the main entrance of our church to be used as a sermon illustration) she had taken on her iPhone. At first I was enthralled by the fact that there was a real live elephant at church. But then I looked closely at her iPhone and the great picture it had taken, and it’s sleek lines and neat touch screen interactive amenities, and how colorful and pretty and crisp the screen looked and how light it was in my hand and how I could check the internetandgetGPSstepbystepguidanceandwatchamovie(likeonmyiPod)and listentomytunesandmakereservationsatarestaurantandlookatmycalendaranddownloadedfromiTunes……
I was hooked….I had to have one….Nay, I NEEDED TO HAVE ONE! MY LIFE WOULD NOT BE COMPLETE UNTIL I GOT ONE!!!!
I had unwittingly adorned the cloak of “techno-tardum.”
On Friday, the new generation iPhone comes out. It has been updated. And it’s $400 less than the initial offering. I’ve scrimped and pinched over the last five months and set aside the $199 required to purchase one. I’ve been anticipating this FOREVAH! I’ve prepared myself by downloading this and this, and researching the ‘must-have’ accessories I should purchase. I’ve ascertained whether or not it’ll have adequate coverage in my travels throughout Texas, the Midwest and intermittent jaunts back East for races. I’ve learned about that phone inside and out. I’m ready. Yup, bring it on Steve Jobs.
Every couple of months, I’ll answer the knocking on my door to stand face to face with people who wish to espouse their beliefs in hopes of my becoming a pearl in their crown. They never make it past the front door, for I assure them that my fire insurance is paid up and my place at the banqueting table has already been reserved. I don’t invite them in and offer them a seat, nor do I take the time to point out the fallacies in their convictions turning them toward a much brighter Light than the dim imitation that lights the path they currently swagger down.
I’ve got the gadgets, the GPS (my bible) system to tell them where they are and where they should be going. The numerous commentaries that take The Word and dissect it for easier digestion, the bible study books that further help in understanding and drilling home the truths of The Word. I don't take the time, I never really feel ready.
Daily, I walk into an office, sit at a computer and am surrounded by people whose eternal destination I do not know. People who matter to God, whom He loves and for whom He willingly surrendered His rightful majesty for a demotion to a temporal coat of human flesh, and I utter nary a word. I have all the right gadgets, a powerful testimony, a strong walk with my Master, a bible-teaching pastor whom I sit under weekend after weekend after weekend. But, I’m reluctant, I’m hesitant, I’m never ready to speak.
A few weeks ago, I sat in a waiting room, myself and another gentleman the only occupants, waiting for our names to be called, for our turn to walk behind the door. The gentleman openly and loudly proclaimed that having to wait was “hell” followed up with “what does it matter anyway, because I’m going to hell, might as well get used to it.”
I didn’t respond. I had the right gadgets, the intimate knowledge of Christ whose desire is that no man perish. The compassion that wanted to reach out to this sweaty man in dirty rumpled clothes, thick eyeglasses and disheveled hair and ask, “Why do you think you’re going to hell?” A powerful testimony of how I took the ‘death-leap’ off the Damnation Express speeding towards eternal ruin only to fall heartfirst onto the path toward eternal life. But I didn’t want to intrude, I didn’t know if he was ready.
“Be ready to speak up and tell anyone who asks why you're living the way you are, and always with the utmost courtesy.” That’s what Peter says.
Be ready.
Speak Up.
Tell anyone.
My propensity towards techno-tardum sometimes tends towards outshining my reasonable act of service towards my Saviour. Where I count down the days until my newest techno obsession is released for purchase with my saved up pennies, I should be banking the word of God in my heart, my spirit, preparing myself to (with the utmost courtesy) confront the next person who crosses my path promoting lies veiled as truths. My concerns should be as Jude’s when he wrote:
"I felt I had to write and urge you to contend for the faith that was once for all entrusted to the saints. For certain men whose condemnation was written about long ago have secretly slipped in among you. They are godless men, who change the grace of our God into a license for immorality and deny Jesus Christ our only Sovereign and Lord."
Where I’ve chosen to keep my desire for the ‘next-cool’ release of the ‘next-greatest’ thing to make my life easier to myself, I should be focusing on opening my mouth, speaking up as Christ commanded:
"… go and make disciples of all nations…teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you."
Anyone. The only other person in the waiting room. Everyone. My co-workers. All Nations. Everyone who seeks an audience with me by the simple act of knocking on my door.
I need to become better prepared, do more research. I’ve got to be ready for each person who traverses the course He has plotted for me. I must better utilize the ‘gadgets’ (my bible, my relationship with Him, my testimony, my walk, my church, ad infinium) to appease the hunger of the lost. The hunger for The One that will make their lives complete. I need to be so prepared that I’m able to boldly stand and say, “Yup, bring it on God,” and mean it.
