GOD ON MUTE

 

“It’s a joy to be hidden,

but a disaster to remain unfound.”

– D.W. Winnicott

In the contrived community of digital friendships, there are two ways to break up.

  1. We unfollow.
  2. Or we mute.

The difference is subtle. But profound.

In both cases, our “friends” are evicted from their spots in our feeds. In both cases, we wave a wand to render them invisible.

We no longer see their wig contest entries.

Or their riled up political rants.

Or their longwinded essays on marriage;)

Unfollowing is hurtful. But it is transparent.

Muting is safe. But it is deceptive.

To unfollow is to cut the chord.

To mute is to keep the chord in tact.

To fabricate a facade of friendship.

But to secretly silence any trace of your existence.

Click: “mute” = Sayonara.

I’ve had enough of you.

I just don’t have the balls to say it.

~

I’ve never had the guts to unfollow God.

Social norms and communal codes enforce their covert policies, and I owe it to my wife, to my children, and to the sanity of my soul to nourish my roots — no matter how hard the winds conspire to uproot them.

But I’m a chronic God-muter.

I subscribe. I follow. I pay membership.

But I render His presence undetectable.

His spot in the feed of my mind has been replaced by worldly clamors and self-scathing feedback loops.

These are the thoughts that pop up in my mind, like crackling droplets of oil propelling off a frying pan, as I sit on a hard floor, confronting a harder heart.

We bemoan the “wayward youth.”

The God-unfollowers who cut all ties.

But what about the God-muters?

The one-dimensional friends-for-benefits?

I’m not sure our game is as superior as we like to imagine.

I may not be ready to click every link.

Or to like every post.

Or to delve into every longwinded essay.

But, just for today, I can unmute God.

To re-invite Him into the feed of my life.

And to let Him share what need be shared.

“It’s a joy to be hidden,

but a disaster to remain unfound.”