Dropping In
October 29, 2018
Dropping In
I think we’ve all become too preoccupied with technology in many ways. It invades our lives and sometimes, rather than bringing us closer together (as it was originally meant to do) it appears to spread us farther apart.
Does anyone else remember being a kid and just dropping over to your friend’s house, knocking on the door and asking whatever adult came “may so-and-so come play?” Today’s youth have their parents text or call said person. (Or they call/text if they have a phone.)
We’ve lost the connectivity of just dropping in.
I ended up without my phone the other night (had given it to Becky because the house she was babysitting at didn’t have a land line) and wanted to go visit with a friend.
Heavens to Betsy! I couldn’t text or call her! (We don’t have a land line phone either – and it wouldn’t have helped me if we did as I saved her number in my phone!)
Could I just stop over? Drop in? Did people even do that? Isn’t that considered rude?
While digesting these thoughts, I realized God was still nudging me to go visit (God had put her on my heart when I was on my way to work – and yes, with no phone) regardless of my lack of ability to warn her of our approach. (Yes, we are like being descended upon by a flock of chattering geese; all six of us this time because Becky was babysitting and Louis was working.)
As I drove the few miles to her house, my mental debate continued: I am the type of person who loves to visit with people – they can drop in any time I’m home as long as they don’t mind the almost constant state of dishevel in my home. We live in it, and unless you catch it on Saturday in the first hour after deep cleaning or after 9pm on a regular night, my house will have sporadic hair on the floor from shedding people and pets, a few cups loitering on the table and counter, dishes in the sink, clean clothes either in a bucket or half-folded on the couch, books and art materials on the dining room table, and toys that aren’t always in the toy room. But my family lives in my house. So if you come unannounced, expect it to look lived-in. If you show up on a planned visit, it will likely be “company clean” (aka, we just scurried around like frightened chipmunks to make it as presentable as possible considering the time of day). I reasoned that I would just pop by before unloading everyone and if they were busy, if she was resting (she gets precious little sleep), or they weren’t up for company, we’d just deliver the job-related news and enjoy the drive back home.
She was excited we had come! (Surprise! I knew we were sisters!) We unloaded and spent a few hours chatting, playing, and enjoying each others’ company. We actually talked about this very thing. She remembered people dropping by her parents’ home almost every day when she was growing up. They would bring a pie or dish, join for lunch or supper, and enjoy a visit or the rest of the day together.
I dropped by on Grandma Jeanette at least once a week; I knew her schedule and knew she would enjoy the visit.
But with everyone else I’ve felt like everything has to be planned. It feels impolite to just drop by and bring a gift or deliver some news in person rather than over the digital airwaves.
God knows our hearts. He knew I would really go and knew my friend wanted some adult conversation (who am I kidding? so did I), it was part of His plan that we fellowship together and encourage each other.
We, as people, need that.
We, as Christians, need that.
We were not made to live in isolation. Our overly busy world with unrealistic expectations tried to shove aside our human need for simple fellowship – time spent together without an agenda. Just quality time invested in each other. Dropping in and feeling comfortable in each others’ spaces. This is when we do not judge each other by the state of one another’s home but choose to invest in the state of one another’s hearts. Yes, most of my events with other people will still likely be planned, but I no longer feel restricted to just planned meetings!
I am so thankful for friends that are my sisters. (Or sisters who are best friends!) Those who I don’t feel obligated to race around and worry about what they will think of the shoes that didn’t make it to the shoe shelf or the train track loaded with every rolling vehicle we own running from the playroom down the hallway into the living room or the dishes that someone is currently washing. I am thankful for the freedom to be me around them. I love being real. I love feeling accepted as me. I enjoy learning from those around me.
Thank you, Jesus, for true friends!
Thanks for reading!
Type at you next time…
~Nancy Tart
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