Nobody likes to think it could happen to them. No one really prepares for it. When it happens, it comes as a shock to the system. Everything you thought you knew and could depend on is blown to smithereens.
Yes, I’m talking about losing cable.
We have this space between our home and our neighbors that tends to get really wet during certain seasons of the year. And then it stays that way. Like now. Their lawn service has struggled with that little problem, trying to get their really big mowers through it to the back yard. What has happened in the past is that they’ve broken off sprinkler heads, churned up the mud with their big wheels and left tire-tread ditches that get even muddier.
We’ve not had a problem with that.
Last week, the lawn service ran into our house. Not a huge problem–they nicked the stucco, scraped off paint. Fixable.
But they cut our cable wire in the process.
We didn’t know what had happened. We just knew that, suddenly, nothing worked. Neither of us could get service on our computers. The TV didn’t work. Our phones started acting peculiarly. (Honestly, mine does that all the time because it doesn’t like me. It doesn’t appreciate that I don’t do tech. We now fight over who’s the master–it or me.)
It was quite the conundrum. Dead computer. Dead TV. Crazy phone.
For 36 hours.
It felt longer.
It was quite humorous to discover that, separated from all media–social and national–I didn’t fall apart. I didn’t succumb to desperate measures to check Facebook or email or the current youtube videos. I didn’t come undone because I couldn’t channel surf the TV when I felt a little bored.
John had to be somewhere later that day, and I found myself alone in a house filled with quiet. It felt uncomfortable at first; I’ve become quite accustomed to noise of varying decibels when I’m home. I walked around, noticing how the quiet felt–and checking for anything creepy that might have ventured in as John was leaving.
What amazed me was the presence of noise in my head that wouldn’t let me completely relax. The must do’s, the can’t forget’s, the ought to’s, all of which had annoying, persistent voices. It took work to shut them down. To ignore them. As I did, I discovered a calm I hadn’t really experienced in awhile.
It’s easier to maintain noise than to nurture quiet. Life fills with noise without having to work at it. Quiet takes focus. And desire. Sometimes I don’t want to work that hard.
When I don’t have what it takes to quiet my heart and soul, God chooses to do it for me. He knows my predisposition to worry and noise.
“The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.” Zephaniah 3:17
God’s love quiets my heart like salve on a wound. Calming. Refreshing. Restoring. Healing,
A cut cable cord won’t change life in the big picture.
It does provide a clearer picture of what life could be like plugged into the right Source.
Guest Post by:
Dayle Rogers is on Cru staff as a ministry coach for Lake Hart Stint. She is wife to John and Mom and Nana to a growing brood.
Read more from Dayle on her blog, Tip of My Iceberg. You’ll love her view of the bigger (eternal) picture of life, with all its twists and turns, drama and joy, chaos and fun.
When the Umbilical Cord Is Cut by Dayle Rogers is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Image: I could not determine the originator of this image. My best guess is to attribute it to Alaric Cox.