Oh, oh, oh, in about one month from now all tv transmissions will be HD. Hurry, order your coupon, get your box. Such urgency.
We have an old tv. It is a big bulky monster. Definitely not a flat anything. And being country bumpkins, we use rabbit ears to see our two partial channels. One is pbs. The other is a major network. We average about 1 hour of tv a week. And after the appalling election coverage by mainstream liberal networks, the ole tv started to make me sick anyway.
While dusting behind the beast last week, I knocked some chords loose. I am not techno-savvy. I stood there holding the black snakes and wondered what went where. And how I would re-attach it all without pulling out my hair. Suddenly, as if In a fit of freedom, I yanked and pulled, and then gently turned the antennae cables–righty tighty, oh there it is, lefty-loosey. I cut the cord so to speak.
Gasping. Jaw-dropping. Forehead-wrinkling. Head-shaking.
Wondering why I didn’t do it sooner.
We are not living in a cave, nor are we ignorant of our world and its goings-ons. We still have radios. We can still read print media. And we still have internet.
Part of leading a quiet life, means cutting out extra “noise” and extra “insults” and extra “junk.” So that is what I did. Even when we watched snip-its of the evening news, we were bombarded by noisy, insulting, junk. My son doesn’t need to see underwear commercials with scantily clad women. Nor does my husband for that matter. I don’t need to see the newest-latest-greatest gadget-n-gizmo for cleaning. I know how to use soap and a sponge.
So, with no fanfare and no complaints from husband or son, we are no longer plugged in to the box.
Another component of leading and living a quiet life puts the meal table at the center of the family. So much more ought to be shared than forks scraping, spoons scooping, bowls passing, and tummies filling…
Last night we had dinner by candlelight.
The roses my husband gave me for my birthday adorned one side of the table.
Our son the other side.
Soft piano worship musicplayed in the background.
God’s Word was read aloud.
Questions were asked.
Questions were answered.
Time was shared.
Hearts were opened.
Tummies were filled.
But so were souls.
And our Father presided over the entire feast.
We ate food prepared by my hand and my son’s.
But we feasted on His Word.