“It’s not you, it’s me.” I may have heard that frustrating phrase as part of someone’s worthy attempt to dull a blow. I may also be guilty of having used that frustrating phrase as part of my own unworthy attempt to avoid conflict. Now I am definitely saying it, but not to a person: to Facebook.

I don’t remember when I joined Facebook, but I wasn’t one of the first. I had to be convinced of its wonders and I prided myself on not joining the pack. Eventually, I was persuaded to swim along and didn’t look back; at least not until recently. Facebook hooked me with their lazy man’s methods of staying in touch and easy reconnect with people I otherwise wouldn’t remember. It takes just a couple of clicks a day and I can see all the babies, new houses, exotic trips, and seasonal celebrations of hundreds. I mull over pictures, laugh at status updates, get angry at the multitude of faceless arguments, and roll my eyes at the community games (another invite… really?!?).

But that’s not all I do. If it was, Facebook and I wouldn’t be having our irreconcilable differences right now. I also covet and envy the picture perfect lives of many Facebook friends. I live in a self-inflicted state of insecurity because I compare myself to those particular friends, seeking out their status updates and pictures to mentally torture myself. And then I superficially calm my mind, not by confessing to God my sin of envy and pride, but by glancing at the news updates of Facebook friends that I qualify as having the same monotonous Facebook life that I do. See? Those people are just as boring as I am. No fancy job, pretty house, or fashionable clothes. Just a humdrum person. Ahhh.

Brian has been flint on flint for me in a lot of areas, but maybe none more so than Facebook. He’s the one that absorbs my insecurities the most, so my unhealthy relationship with social media has affected him deeply. He has to listen to it. When I brought up the idea of cutting my ties and moving on from Facebook, he was fully supportive. He knows that it’s a foothold in my life that the devil is using over and over. I’ve tried to simply use it as a tool for staying in touch with friends, families, and supporters, but in the end I find myself browsing aimlessly and eventually landing back in the “why isn’t that my life” mode. Those perfect pictures are just too enticing.


At a conference where it’s possible I’m Facebooking…

Just as the devil uses our world to tempt us away from God, God uses all sorts of methods to reach us. Like millions of others, I have loved The Chronicles of Narnia since before I can remember. My favorite is The Horse and His Boy for two simples reasons: I love horses and Breey-hinny-brinny-hoohy-hah is one of the best character names I’ve ever come across. Besides the immense pleasure I find in imagining having a talking horse friend, there’s a very convicting aspect of that story for me. Several different characters at different junctures of the plot express concern or curiosity about the path of the other characters. Aslan’s answer is always, “It’s none of your business. Stick to your life and what I put in front of you.” Okay, maybe C.S. Lewis had Aslan say it a bit better than that, but it’s what I hear. I worry much too much over other people’s paths and lose mine somewhere along the way. Facebook will never help me focus on what God has put before me, and for that reason I have to say my goodbyes to posts, likes, pictures, and endless invites. I will miss “seeing” many “friends” daily, but I already feel free.