The Ignored Phone--What I Needed Most

Yesterday late afternoon I went to see my dear friend, Emily. We both have a lot going on and needed to catch up.  (And yes "needed" is the word.) As I parked my car in the drive, I looked down at my phone and thought, "I'm going to leave it in the car.  I'll be here less than an hour.  I don't want to be distracted."

As I walked towards the house, The Toddler (she always makes an appearance in my happy blogs) came running into my arms.  I'm telling you, no matter what you have to discuss/share, it always starts on a positive note when you start with a big, sweaty toddler hug.

We went inside, poured a glass of wine (not for The Toddler) and sat down at the dining room table. The Toddler was singing and dancing, so Emily said, "Let's turn our chairs this way so that's just in the background." We began to talk--or rather I did.  Emily sat and listened her eyes showing she was not only listening, but she was entering into my story, into my world, into my joy, into my pain, into my fear.

When I think back on our conversation last night, I realize she did ask questions, but not specifics about the story, she asked about how I felt in the story at specific parts, with specific encounters. She was present with me in her dining room and in my story. And then I listened to her.

Our conversation was intense, personal and vulnerable--it was powerful and holy and good.  But what I really noticed throughout the short time we had together last night was Emily's presence.  As we sat in the dining room, several times her phone rang, her texts signal went off, and Emily didn't flinch. Her eyes never left mine, she was completely and totally with me.

We didn't have a lot of time, and yet we had enough time--enough time for me to know that I was worth her time, worth her attention, and through that to know I have worth simply because I am me.

All evening I carried that gift with me; I woke up this morning with that gift still surrounding me, and I thought about how important it is that we give that gift to one another in this digital media age. I love technology; I do believe it has a place in pastoral care; I have used it in pastoral care. And yet I have also on many occasions let it interfere with someone having my complete presence.

I like to call it, "being able to multi-task" or "being able to care for more than one person at a time." I believe there is a place for it, and I know sometimes we have to be interrupted but last night I received the gift of total presence and with each phone ring or text alert that was ignored, I was reminded that I was valued; I was important; I was worth it.

WhenI got back in my car last night, my phone indeed did have multiple texts and calls, and I was glad I had left it in the car because I wasn't sure I would have been able to ignore them. And you know what, that's okay.  It's okay that I had to leave my phone in the car in order to ignore it and Emily could just ignore hers where she was.  Phones were ignored; true presence was given. It doesn't matter how it happened; it matters it did happen.

I don't remember every word we spoke last night; I don't remember what song The Toddler was singing; I don't remember what kind of wine we shared; but I remember the ignored sounds; I remember the presence--and that's what I needed most.

P.S. Ironically this is a tweet I woke up to this morning from Church Social Media (#chsocm) Pastoral Care-The ways in which pastoral care can/does/should happen in digital gathering spaces.  This week's chat moderated by Jason Chesnut (@crazypastor) Topics: T1: Have you given/received pastoral care...

And I'm reminded it's not an either/or world.