The World Health Organization classifies cell phone radiation as a “Class 2b. Known Carcinogen” in the same category of Lead, Asbestos, and Engine Exhaust.
If you can’t keep your phone three feet away from you most of the time, get a shield.
Or brain cancer.
One or the other.
There are other invisibles at play, too: prayer, for example.
My unborn baby girl would do her strongest turns and kicks during my deepest, strongest moments of prayer. Was there something physiological that prompted this? Perhaps. She is two now and there are moments in which she loves to pray with me. She puts her hands together, waiting for me to wrap mine around them. I close my eyes, she bows her head, and I speak.
Praying at a toddler’s level is a drastically different thing than praying in an adult deacon group. The words are simple. The asking is pure. The thanking is true. And I’m reminded that intellectual capacity and big words mean nothing to God.
Prayer is still a mystery to me. Once in a blue moon, the otherwise impossible thing you asked for materializes. Some of the people closest to me have even seen spontaneous healings. Casting aside the frauds, should this shock any Christian? Weren’t healings the most common miracles we read of in the big book?
Other times a different although just as glorious answer comes- not the thing you asked for, but feelings and words from outside of you permeating deep into your chest. Communication you can’t reason away as some weird physiological phenomenon. The unexplainable you know is God speaking.
But most times, it’s just quality time with our Maker. Speaking beauty, welcoming a sentimental response, and seeking to deeply know the Other. Isn’t it the same with anyone you love?
Do yourself a soul-healing favor, momma. Snatch up pockets of quiet time when they present themselves. Let fresh air in them steal the attention from your devices. Let yourself dream. Let your Maker come close. Let your rejuvenation and renewal begin again daily.
A breeze is stirring, and the baby is napping. I can almost smell the wind through the closed window.
An opportunity has arisen to seize the moment.
And tonight when I close my eyes, I’ll pocket some more, envisioning my future self- the one who’s traveled years of paths alongside her Maker though all of life’s triumphs and tragedies. I’ll soak in every detail I can feel of her. And I’ll pray that she comes true.
How does yours feel, momma?
How do you want her to?