I s a i a h 4 0 : 8 8 The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever.
Today's world puts us on a stage with a white hot spotlight of scrutiny following our every move. As intense as it sounds when put in those terms, each of us have stepped onto our own stage willingly.
I stepped onto my own stage when I created my first social media account circa 2013. I turned my own spotlight on with my first post, to my eleven followers. With each post and each mindless scroll, I knowingly turned my own spotlight a little brighter. What I didn't realize is that the brighter you try and shine a spotlight on yourself, the more it blinds you to reality.
The world has become so skewed that the virtual reality created by the world of social media seems more real, more tangible than the life passing by around us. Every day, hundreds of thousands of people walk through their days with their eyes on a screen. The interaction between two people on a Facebook post is more memorable than the interaction between two people in a grocery store line.
The relationship formed with a faceless username on Twitter is handled with more delicacy than the person sitting at the desk next to the left.
I have grappled with the paradigm of social media addiction for quite some time. With the intent to keep at least one foot rooted in reality, I take periodic social media breaks of varying length. My New Years' resolution was to be more grounded and present every day, so I chose to kick off 2018 offline.
Initially the biggest struggle was the reflex of my thumb, flipping to where the Instagram app used to sit. Once I got over the initial frustration of what to do with the abundance of time left over without my incessant scrolling, I started to feel the deeper repercussions. Without social media, there is a lack of communication that becomes more and more apparent the longer the hiatus lasts. One thing that I never would have realized is that going off the radar can feel so incredibly isolating for something as insignificant as an app on your cell phone.
I never took the time to get a new perspective and realize how heavy our dependence is on social media for our self-worth that should come from something eternal, not something external. Our self-worth is so often defined by numbers and comparison. We are measured by likes/comments/shares/retweets/favorites/views/friends. Any of the terms used on the various apps that are slowly becoming more real than the world around us.
We spend so much time trying to cover our own baggage to prove to faceless names on the internet that we have it together. We edit our imperfections, highlight our achievements and hide our failures. We post the kodak moments and shy away from the camera in our less-than-flattering times. We go to such lengths to impress people who are too busy worrying about their own image to look twice at ours. What is the sense in exhausting ourselves simply to get people to love our facade?
There is something to be said for vulnerability in a world that only approves of perfection. There is an ever-growing lack of depth in a face value society.
We can chase our tails ceaselessly to please those whose approval will bring us no comfort or we can seek value in the unconditional love given to us by our Father. There is a Timothy Keller quote that was recently shown to me that brings me the most comfort when prioritizing the type of approval that holds the most value.
“To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God. It is what we need more than anything. It liberates us from pretense, humbles us out of our self-righteousness, and fortifies us for any difficulty life can throw at us.”
How incredibly powerful and how incredibly true. I can only speak for myself, but I fully attest to each and every word.
Yes, it is comforting to see words of praise commented beneath a perfectly angled, delicately filtered Instagram photo. However, what does that comment mean to the no-makeup, stained t-shirt wearing version of the girl in the picture? Does it mean that my beauty and my value are contingent on my resemblance to the girl I look like in my most perfectly edited, perfectly posed, perfectly filtered photo? Personally, I can attest to the analogy of social media being a highlight reel. I do not post a photo of myself when I first wake up in the morning, for both my sake and the sake of everyone who looks at it. I don't take Snapchat stories of the lonely nights in my apartment. I don't make Facebook posts detailing the harsh comments given to me by my professor on my thesis paper. Instead, I post pictures after the final lipstick stroke, Snapchat stories of the nights my apartment is full of friends, and celebratory Facebook posts when I am one step closer to my degree. I am admittedly guilty of hiding my weak moments and enhancing my good ones with the C2 filter.
With all of that being said, I will attest to the fact that I am terrified of baring my heart and being ridiculed. I am afraid every time I write a new post that it will change the way I am seen for the worse. I am scared of being disliked. All of that is part of my human nature and frankly, is unlikely to ever change. However, I am so deeply comforted by the fact that my God knew me, knows me, and knows everything I will do and become and still loves me. He loves me regardless of my appearance, my achievements, my acceptance or my accolades. In fact, He loves me in spite of everything I am. I am human and riddled with flaws and imperfections. He sees them more clearly than anyone in this world ever has, and loves me more deeply than anyone ever will.
Therefore, I am fully known and deeply loved, and it is the most lovely feeling I could ever imagine. At the end of the day, when my makeup is wiped off, my phone screen is dark, and I am hidden from the world, this is what my God has to say:
7You are altogether beautiful, my darling;
there is no flaw in you. Song of Songs 4:7
