Constant notifications are a distraction. We need to pause and listen to God

The blessing and curse of our internet-governed lives is that my watch or phone will dutifully inform me that I have an appointment with an armed and dangerous dentist tomorrow. Or that my plane is running late, rain is expected in 32 minutes, or my heart rate is a little high, probably because of that delayed plane. I am informed of breaking news, stock market fluctuations and reminded to pick up some milk at the supermarket.

These notifications can even prevent future mishaps and tragedies; cars now not only beep when we are wandering out of our lane, but automatically steer us back into safety – even rebuke us if we’re not paying attention to the road.

Unfortunately, however, there are no notifications that remind us we are living in a beautiful moment, which is frustrating; days of sheer bliss, when the sky is a deep blue, the sun warm and rich, easy laughter is shared with friends…Yet these fabulous episodes are rare and should be enjoyed to the full.

Recently my wife, Kay, and I joined a gaggle of friends for a few wonderfully poignant days in France. We had gathered to be with our host, a close pal who had been given a terminal diagnosis. But there was nothing morose about our time together. We munched on almond croissants, apparently baked in heaven, drank coffee in the same cobbled square each morning and laughed hysterically at stories shared late into the night. One evening, I glanced across the room at our friend and wondered at the sight of his huge smile. Despite the gravity and discomfort of his illness, he was determined to soak up the gravy of this precious time.

There’s a price to be paid for being continuously available

And so was I….except for those pesky notifications. Technology means that unless we take that unthinkable step of turning our phones off, we are at the mercy of relentless intrusion. There’s a price to be paid for being continuously available, and the cost is that we become unavailable to what is right in front of us, right now. 

Something similar occurs with the cameras that are also secreted into our phones. Watching a breathtaking sunset in Colorado, Kay and I marvelled at God’s genius with a colour palette. Ribbons of rich burnt orange entwined with fluorescent reds trailed across the fading blues of the twilight sky. But glancing around, we noticed others who were so caught up with capturing the perfect photo of the moment that they missed the moment itself! Squinting at the sky-borne masterpiece through their phones was just not the same as looking directly, unhurriedly, at it.

Sometimes the sheer speed of life hurries us on, hastily shoving us forward when we should be stopping to look, marvel and worship. Author Annie Dillard offers a beautiful challenge: “We are here to witness the creation and abet it. We are here to notice each thing so each thing gets noticed. Together we notice not only each mountain shadow and each stone on the beach but, especially, we notice the beautiful faces and complex natures of each other…otherwise, creation would be playing to an empty house”.

Perhaps in the midst of another ordinary day that might well be filed under the heading of ‘nothing much happened’, there are people who inspire us or nudge us into a giggle; music to soothe or quicken our hearts. There are unmissable minutes that we might just miss if we’re not careful.

Let’s take time to take our seat when God is putting on a show. And let’s pay attention to the road that we’re on. We have been notified.