I scored something cool and kitschy at the thrift store this weekend:
Like it?
At first, I just grabbed it off of the shelf because it reminded me of a neat one we had when I was growing up. Then, I put it in my basket because
(a) it was half price day ($2!),
(b) I decided it would be a fun prop for some future photo shoot, and
(c) my daughter had grabbed the receiver and was busily engaged in a chattery (though incoherent beyond "hewwo?") conversation.
I brought it home, plunked it on the counter, and cleaned it up. Then, I left it there for a few days... and as I walked by it repeatedly, an idea sprouted in my mind. The unplugged phone called out to me (metaphorically. Not in a literal Twilight-Zoney way) with a lesson.
Care to listen in?
OK. First, the phone was just sitting there, NOT ringing, because it has no cords. None connecting the receiver to the body, none connecting the body to the wall.
Second, because of the absence of cords, this phone is useless for its intended purpose. I therefore snagged it with the intention of using it for something completely different than its intended purpose.
Third, I am sometimes like this phone. When I fail to "plug in" to God through prayer and thoughtful meditation on His word, I become a little silly. A little directionless. A bit like a phone, whose intended purpose WAS to connect people in meaningful ways across the miles, now relegated to the role of a prop.
(...and/or chew toy):
 |
| Above: "Puroined Purposeless Phone," 2011. All Rights Reserved (<-- joke. Our dog is sneaky. And fast. Hence the blurry photo.) |
When I fail to do what I am called to do (draw near to Him), I drift into roles that are less-than-meaningful. Roles I wasn't intended for... roles like "casual spectator," "waster of time," or "aloof observer." I miss out on the depth of life that He'd prepared for me in that moment, and settle for a shallow and unplugged existence- even if only momentarily.
Fortunately, He provides gentle wake-up calls,
beckoning me to return to the purpose for which He intended me,
beckoning me to draw near to Him,
beckoning me to be filled with His truth, His love, His joy.
Inviting me to trade in my self-induced kitsch status, for His "you-are-my-treasure" role.
...Calling me into the land of so-much-more.
Glad I got that phone.
Post script: If you muddled through all of the choppy sentence-fragmented mess of this post, here's a reward for you:
When I looked up "kitsch" to see if I was spelling it right (which I wasn't-- kitch = kitSch), I was met by this preface to the definition: "Not to be confused with Quiche." Ha!
