My Other Office

Places still exist in this country where there’s no cell phone coverage and where motorized vehicles don’t supply the audio backdrop.  You can’t hear emergency vehicles and can’t get one for yourself if you needed it.

God willing, I’m there right now.¹ With fish on the brain, I’ve hiked into a remote location with some other guys in pursuit of that once-in-a-lifetime Small Mouth Bass or fish in headNorthern Pike.

A funny thing happens when you’re in the middle of a technological dead-zone.  Cocooned in nature’s primitive hospitality, biblical metaphors swirl around you afresh.

Animals, fish, birds, and trees become the entertainment.  Waters deep or shallow, still or rushing, become the canvas.  Blood red sunsets and starry nights offer grand finales.

The rarest, most endangered commodity–quiet–reappears.  Quiet doesn’t mean empty silence, because there are millions of singing, chirping creatures out here heaving up their daily symphonies.   Nor is it even the absence of humanity, since my travel buddies are with me, talking, laughing, occasionally shouting.

No, quiet refers to the absence of noisy things meant to distract you from the profound.  From the august presence of God.  From the winsome love of Christ.  From the dove-like fellowship of the Holy Spirit.

Subtract media, cell phones, computers, radios, iPods, and electronic toys, and all we have left is each other and God.  If that sounds scary, we probably need a reintroduction to it.

Some productivity gurus talk about creating a “zone of silence” where you avoid all electronic connectivity in the earliest part of your day.   Otherwise a certain type of overload begins to occur.

I wonder if our non-stop involvement in superficially interesting noise actually contributes to our becoming shallow human beings.  We don’t have time to think about anything, to process it, or pray about it.  We quickly adopt ideas and pass them on with scarcely a reflective thought.

This all reminds me to keep making room for relative periods of quiet, even if I’m not in the middle of postcard beauty, eating beef jerky and salted pecans and drinking filtered lake water.

Regardless of where I am, my other office always needs to be a place of connectivity with God.


1 This post is coming to you courtesy of the automated post function on WordPress.


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