Twitter And Tweets
Twitter and Tweets
I’m no dinosaur, but I’ve warmed very slowly to the social media craze. I’d rather speak face-to-face or on the phone than text. If you have something to say to me, I’d prefer almost anything to a text. My Facebook page is not updated as often as the gurus recommend, and I rarely appear in my own Instagram photos. If you see a tweet from me, you can be relatively sure I’ve been kidnapped and held hostage.
I hope I have done enough, social network–wise, by maintaining as best I can the web of friendships that has grown through many years in mostly old-fashioned ways. But the pressure to “get with the program” only intensifies with each passing day.
I recently attended a conference for women in ministry where I was advised (multiple times) that I was remiss in not tweeting. “Twitter,” one attendee said, “is so now. Everyone’s on it.” Facebook (I heard) is “so yesterday.” (Too many older people on it was the explanation given for its decline.) Twitter allows me 140 characters to tell the world what I am doing right now. It invites me to follow the tweets of those whose lives I’m interested in, keeping up with them moment by moment.
But I might not have the energy to care, because most days I can barely keep up with my own life.
If I did tweet, here’s what you might read:
- I’m exhausted. Dead tired. I’m a morning person who frowned at this day’s sunrise.
- I’m worried about having enough work. About taxes going up. About the rattle in my car when I accelerate.
- I don’t think I’ve been a good friend lately. I want to do better but can’t seem to find the time I need to try.
- I fell asleep last night before I could pray. (Actually, before I could turn out the light.)
I need to “tweet” all right. But about the God who loves me and already knows where I am, what I am doing, and what thoughts are buzzing in my brain. So this morning, there’s this—and it is enough: Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me. Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me. Have mercy on me. Amen.
The LORD’s lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassions never fail.
Lamentations 3:22, NASB
