12/7/21 12/7/21

Blog How to balance family, technology

We live in a culture where even intact families may not spend much time together as a family. There are long work hours, especially in a struggling economy. There is school for the kids, jobs, and maybe even taking care of elderly family members.

But aside from those more normal situations, we are inundated with technology. For many, their cell phones connect the owners to work and, even at home, they are involved with their job. We give our children cell phones at a young age and they learn to text and communicate with friends at all hours of the day and, too often, at night as well.

Others become addicted to video games and spend as much time as possible gaming alone or with friends. In fact, every member of the family may have reason to be on their cell phones, tablets, or computers. Virtual experiences often take the place of real face-to-face connections.

Online friendships are shallow and transient and can turn quickly into bullying if one says the wrong thing or in the wrong way. Even when the family gathers for a meal, they aren’t really sharing their day when each is ready to check their cell phones when they whirr or beep. “I’ve got to get this.”

Technology, if not restricted with boundaries, separates and divides friends and families. It is hard to take interest in your child sitting at the table trying to share about his or her day, when mom or dad won’t stop looking at their phone, answering texts or emails, or playing a game.

How discouraging to know, as a child, you are not more important to your parents than their technology. Why not immerse yourself in your phone? It is certainly better than being ignored. Many children spend so much time on their phones, playing games, or watching videos, they never learn how to focus and their bodies do not get enough exercise to keep them healthy.

Families lose out when they build faux relationships through technology rather than appreciating, interacting, and caring for their real family who needs them. Children need parents who care by being present, by listening and responding, and who aren’t always sneaking looks at their phones.

Families and individuals to be healthy need time away from technology. Time with others to talk, interact, laugh, and share. It may take setting boundaries for parents as well as children.

Boundaries may include the following though your guidelines will depend on your family: Eating at least one meal a day together as a family--actually asking questions and listening.
No tablets or cell phones are at the table.
When someone wants to speak to you, give them your full attention--no sneak cell peaks.
No technology after lights out--even if that means collecting tablets and phones before bedtime.
Schedule time as a family to play card or board games. There are any number of games that can involve the whole family.

These are only a few ideas for having healthier relationships between technology, yourself, and your family.

Yes, I love my laptop and tablet. We still have a home phone, but I wouldn’t leave home without my cell. I see it not only as a way to keep in touch, not only to be able to use the GPS function as I can get lost in a paper bag, but also as a safety in case something happens, and we need emergency services.

But setting boundaries makes our lives richer and our families stronger. Today is a good day to start caring enough to set some restrictions.

4/13/21 4/13/21

Biographical Blog We appreciate instant access with cellphones

I don’t leave home without my cell phone. Having the phone, especially since we’re geezers, gives me confidence that if we have a car or health emergency, we can quickly summon help.

I have a reason for being uneasy. Years ago, after our daughter graduated from college, she spent a year south of Branson working with at-risk youth in a leadership program. She was in charge of putting together a weekend for parents to come and learn about the program.

It was a long drive from Kearney, but we planned to do it all in one long day. However, our car died south of Kansas City. Without my cell, we would not have been able to contact AAA for assistance. Our car was hauled to a nearby town.

We hoped it wouldn’t take too long to fix as we were on a tight timeline. After carefully checking over the car, we were told the car was dead. No amount of “fixing” would make that car go. The garage helped us get ahold of Enterprise.

Thankfully, the garage agreed to keep the car until we returned in a couple of days. (We ended up buying a car to get home.) We made it to the opening function in Branson while everyone was still eating.

When we lived in Wisconsin in the 1950s where my father pastored a church, we were thankful to have one phone in the house. When my father took a church in a dying oil town, Lance Creek, Wyoming, north of Lusk, there were no phones when we arrived.

The town consisted of small settlements named after the oil companies that owned them. Other than housing, there wasn’t much more than a filling station, a garage, a café, a bar, a Walmart-style store (groceries and much more), a Catholic church with a once-a-month service, “downtown.”

Our church, next to a lumberyard and another grocery store, further west in another enclave, served a wide area. Even further west was an elementary school, a lumberyard, and an IOOF Hall.

If we needed to contact dad at the church where he had his office, one of us had to walk or ride a bike the uphill mile and a half to the church. Mom didn’t drive and dad had the only car. We were often out of contact with dad when he visited the ranches in the area. He’d be gone the whole day.

A few times I got to go with him. We went from paved to gravel to almost footpaths at some points. We found few bridges. We crossed streams that during rainstorms would become impassible.

The ranchers were glad for a visitor. At times Dad comforted, counseled, or simply listened, finally offering a passage from God’s Word and prayer. What if it had stormed while he was gone? What if he’d had an accident? No one would even know where to look for him.

I viewed those trips as adventures, never considering the possible risks Dad took back then. It did not matter to him. He was a pastor who cared about the needs of people, even if they never darkened the door of the church. For many ranchers, Sunday attendance was just too far and complicated.

I look back with a shiver as I slip my cell phone into my purse before heading out the door. I can’t help but wonder how today’s generation would handle the inability to readily connect. I am thankful for my memories because they remind me to be thankful as I turn on my cell and let our daughter know we’re on our way.

I plan my life out a day at a time, so my posting schedule can be erratic.

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