Someone HMU. . . . . . BRD. TXT ME.
These are actual Facebook statuses I have read, and they are simple expressions of boredom. Someone with access to more entertainment and information literally at his or her fingertips than has been available for all of human history is using a computer or smartphone to seek out someone or something to break up the monotony of the moment.
I get it, I guess. I can remember being bored as a young teen. But I’ll be honest, it’s been a long time. Sometimes nowadays I pray for the luxury of boredom. I think, though, that this near-constant reaching out for entertainment, action, whatever, is a clue to something bigger that surrounds us. You know who is never bored? Little children. Everything is novel to a little child; the world is full of wonder! And because they have been exposed to relatively little, they find it exhilarating to repeat certain experiences ad nauseam. G.K. Chesterton made this observation:
Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, ‘Do it again’; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, ‘Do it again’ to the sun; and every evening, ‘Do it again’ to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.
Ravi Zacharias distilled that quote to this: “A part of God’s infinitude is manifest in a little child’s propensity to exult in the monotonous.”
This longing for new experiences, for novelty, is a two-edged sword, I think. On one hand, I agree that it speaks to something sad about us, a manifestation of the fall, no doubt, that robs us of our capacity to truly appreciate the wonders that sur-round us every day.
On the other hand, I think it offers us a clue that we are capable of appreciating and enjoying much more than this world has so far offered us. It speaks to our “bigness” as God’s image-bearers. C. S. Lewis put it this way:
If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.
Certainly this is true, and most of you have heard me say at one time or another that I believe one mark of Christian maturity is a longing for our true home. But meanwhile, I think we can combine Chesterton’s and Lewis’s ideas here into some-thing that sustains and challenges us while we’re here. We can and should, through prayer, praise, and devotional reading of the Scriptures, cultivate an appreciation of the beauty and wonder that surrounds us. Even in a world that is decaying in so many respects, the majesty of God’s creation, especially our fellow man, offers much to invest our lives in and engage our interest.
We also should recognize that even though we are “made for another world,” we are not cut off from Him who keeps us as ambassadors in this one. He has not left us as orphans. The Holy Spirit indwells and empowers us, and we can enjoy sweet fellowship with Him right here and now. Nothing else will satisfy. There is nothing wrong with new experiences, but God alone remains the perpetual novelty. Only God can ease our restlessness, which brings to mind a final quote, this time from Augustine:
You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.
Rest in the Lord. It’s the least boring thing in the world.
