rule breaking.

Did I ever tell you that I gave up the internet for Lent this year? Like, the whole internet. Except for maybe email, because that's a necessity these days. Oh and Pinterest, because there some seriously amazing teaching resources on there. But for all other intents and purposes, my plan was to kick the internet in an effort to spend intentional time writing, reading, praying, thinking, listening, and feeling this season. One of my deep desires is to truly, genuinely feel and experience each season and emotion in my life. I don't want to miss anything this lift has to offer.

And I'll be honest, I have a nasty habit of letting the internet steal way from experiences that are life-giving. I know I spend more time "connecting" on Facebook and Twitter than is actually necessary (and what's the appropriate definition of necessary, anyway). The decision to give-up Facebook and Twitter was fairly easy, but I went back and forth about taking down my blog for the next few weeks. At first I thought, Oh, great ... I'll blog about my endeavors to disconnect from the world. Then I realized that made no sense, so I decided it would be best to go completely silent and not write at all during Lent.

Clearly, that's not working either. Something I have realized over the past few months is that if it's not one thing, it's another. If it's not one distraction, it's another. If it's not social media, it's blogging. If it's not blogging, it's Pinning. If it's not Pinning, it's scouring ChristianMingle.com for hotties.

If there's not one thing distracting my attention, there's another. So, in my effort to give up the internet entirely, I've found myself not actually being intentional with my time. Instead of using my extra minutes to read, pray, think, write, and feel ... I use my minutes to panic, fret, worry, cry, rehash bad teaching moments in my head, frantically apply for jobs, and believe lies about myself and my worth. I have moved from zoning out on Facebook to zoning out while applying for jobs, while driving home from school, while sitting in my bed thinking about the next season but not actively praying through the process. I wrongly assumed that eliminating the biggest distractions in my life would automatically turn me into an intentional, thoughtful, and prayerful person. So, so wrong.

So, I'm deciding to break the rules. I am breaking my own promises to stay away from the internet. Just yesterday, in the midst of tears and fears, my sweet friend Kelly told me that I should write. She pointed out that writing and blogging really do help me to process the world as it's unfolding around me. Not to mention, it challenges me to think outside of my reality. I can pull together the pieces of my life and recognize that the story really isn't about me and my life anyway. Blogging is both something I enjoy and something that connects me back to truth. Although there are many facets of the internet that are a distraction, I really think that blogging can be a useful tool for processing. And that's what I need. Processing. Thinking. Listening. Wrestling. Grappling. Connecting. Preparing. Understanding. Reflecting.

So, here's to the new Lent. Here's to writing. Actually writing. Everyday. Here's to intentionally getting out my journal, bible, and computer for a few minutes each day. Here's to making sense and making way. Here's to publishing what's incomplete. Here's to returning. Here's to breaking the rules. Nothing great was ever accomplished by following the rules anyway, right?