My Twitter tells me things.
There’s a ‘trending’ area below the spot telling me who I’m supposed to follow. Twitter, you don’t own me. You aren’t the boss of me. You can’t tell me what to do.
It tries to. All day. But I am the boss of Twitter.
Then it’s all, “This is trending. Be sucked into the vortex.”
Like this Bruno Mars song. Or Justin Beiber is here. Today is National or International Blah Blah Blah Day.
I’m down with Pancake Day, S’more Day, Answer the Phone Like Buddy the Elf Day. Yes. It’s a thing. Get on board.
But today, in all its sunshiny glory, with the crisp fall edge and color resplendent leaves, is National Fear Day. Or so says Twitter. Which doesn’t really know anything. It’s like a 140 character Wikipedia. People make it up.
Twitter told me to quiver in my boots. Shake in my slippers.
Or tell you what I’m afraid of.
So, apparently Twitter is the boss of me anyhow. Since I’m telling you my deepest darkest fear. Because Twitter told me to.
The rebellion is that 140 characters ended a long time ago.
It’s getting old.
What I’m most afraid of. The world passing me by. Time being gone. The hourglass emptying. That the time I have left is shorter than the time I have lived. Which, in my intellect, I realize is a foolhardy fear. My mind, tho, the place where my thoughts spin around, holds on tenaciously.
Things in real life aren’t anything close to the way we’ve imagined them. They aren’t glamorous. Or perfect. Sometimes we even have ideas of things that are so vague and fuzzy that even if we experienced them, they would still pale in comparison, because we don’t even know what it is to which we were looking forward.
Perhaps that is because we were made for Glory. And because that is never fully realized here since we are a perpetual craft project of His. This is how I justify my need to make stuff. I’m made in His image, right? And He is the Creator.
So, I’m terrified that there will be no time left to live. To love. To experience. To have a moment of perfection which has been preconceived by my immature and inexperienced juvenile mind.
The human of me embraces this fully. The spirit of me knows that it is all a matter of perspective, but as you well know, me: human, is very loud.
There is freedom happening. There is courage growing. There is strength of spirit over noise of human. Slowly. Progressively.
The moments of perfection are so much grander than the inconclusive dream we use as a measuring instrument. I would much rather be here than where I was, with all that time in front of me.
Truth is, no one knows where they are on their timeline. Truth is, the after is better than the now or the before. Because the after is outside of time, with Him. Truth is, my humanity is afraid of its own impending end. Truth is, by faith, my spirit embraces with open arms the wholeness of being done with a planet full of pain. A world that breaks everything that it touches.
Happy National Fear Day, Twitter. You suck. And I read the end of the story. The last chapter. You lose. He wins. So I win.
Suck it, old age.
Suck it, tomorrow. Because He is there. He goes there ahead of me. He goes there with me. And He is there when tomorrow is over.