Yesterday, I wrote about how quickly the last month has gone by for me. It's been filled with meeting new people, visiting new churches, getting settled into a new routine, and getting used to being home with my kids all the time again (I worked part-time the last couple of years).
It's also involved joining Twitter. Previously, I didn't think that I would be too interested in it, but I decided that I'd join it and follow people there instead of liking them on Facebook because I want to keep my Facebook account generally only for interacting with people I know. I had begun to grow tired of seeing my news feed cluttered up with contests or sales or anything of that nature.
I have only been on Twitter for a couple of weeks, I think. There are things that I like about it and things that I don't (some people are annoying in what they tweet or in how often they tweet).
I think that overall, though, Twitter feels a little overwhelming. There is so much happening and everyone wants to be the first to tweet something of importance. It moves way too fast for me. I like to read something and then think about it, ask questions, and think some more. In this Twitter world, there is no time for that. By the time I have thought about something and may have an intelligent contribution to a topic, it has since passed and the next one is front and center.
Are we missing out on something important with our fast-paced lives in a fast-paced world? Do we ever take the time to slow down anymore?
I remember one time in particular where I felt as if life slowed down for about 24 hours. It was July of 2005 and I spent a week in Toronto with some Jewish friends. Part of my time there was over shabbos or shabbat (the sabbath: Friday sundown to Saturday sundown). Everything for our meals was prepared in advance. We did not use computers or television. It was a lovely time. I actually felt rested during that time. I have never experienced the same thing on a Christian Sunday sabbath. I rarely actually turn my computer off and the tv is on every day more than I care to admit.
There is something about rest that is so inviting and yet it often seems so impossible to actually grasp.
How do you rest?