What's the last thing you do at night before you turn off the light and call it a day? If you're like me, you may have a few "wind down" triggers that tell your brain you're settling in for the night. I've got a routine, a few things I like to do to just chill out. If I skip them, it's harder for me to shut off my brain for the night.
For lots of folks in today's culture those last things involve electronics in some way: a favorite TV show, checking email one last time, reading through the day's social media feeds to see what's been going on with friends, messaging, checking tomorrow's events on your electronic calendar, listening to music, playing an electronic game...and the list goes on.
What if you didn't have those electronic distractions as you get ready to close your eyes?
What if you were camping with no electricity?
Or what if you were living out in the wild with no electronic options?
What do you think you would do in those last hours of daylight?
Imagine for a moment that you are sitting on a hillside in this unplugged world, the sun is setting and bedtime is nearing. What gets your last moments of wakeful attention now?
Consider the thoughts of one who has lived this life.
Unplugged. But wide awake. Senses taking it all in.
Alert to God who is never far, showing His handiwork for our delight.
And as amazing as all of the blazing stars in God's spacious firmament, He stops. He looks down. And He notices you and me.
And He smiles.
He smiles a huge unplugged glorious sunset, shimmering full moon, starry night smile.
So maybe. Just maybe. Being unplugged is not a bad idea.
Perhaps tonight we might try this simple experiment. Turn off the electronic buzzing, blinking, news-feeding distractions and go outside to simply gaze at the stars before closing our eyes for the night. In those moments of quiet, calm, unplugged silence, perhaps, just perhaps, we can feel the peaceful presence of our loving Father as He turns on the Nightlights, sings us a song with the crickets and frogs as accompaniment, and says, "Good night, My children. I love you."
See you later. I'm unplugging. I hear crickets calling.
Oh, but before I go, thanks for reading.