The Joy of Bandwidth:
Not an Ode to Broadband

Last night I saw that I have 1339 emails to which I need to respond.

One of my very first posts on this blog sometime in 2002 was "giving up the day," where I talked about not liking to go to bed. There I suggested that antipathy was driven by a desire to live without limits. Or, one might say, a desire to be God.

Such an instinct, of course, is antithetical to the Creator-creature - even the Father-child - relationship we have with God. For me, the biblical theme that lately best captures this reality, as I've frequently expressed here, is remaining in Jesus - bringing oneself constantly into His presence in dependence and worship. Such an activity is an intrinsic acknowledgment of limitation, a necessary admission of dependence.

There are folks - dear folks - that I've met online with whom I haven't communicated in weeks if not months. There are realtime acquaintances in the same category. Last night I took a serious look at all the outstanding emails in my inbox awaiting my response. I am certain that there are individuals behind some of those emails wondering at my non-response. Occasionally, I will through sheer dent of effort begin to catch up. When I do so, sometimes I respond to emails that were sent to me a year ago or more. Utterly ridiculous.

It's easy to wax eloquent about the wonders of the online world. Yet irrespective of the speed of our laptops and width of our band, there are absolute limits. We all have 24 hours daily. Most of us have to work, eat, love our spouses and play with our kids. We all have to sleep.

I tend to resist this, fancying myself able to be have close personal friendships with all the literally 2500 or so folks I have in my Contacts. But that's a hopeful fiction.

The truth is I am only rich in Him when I embrace my limits, embrace my dependence, when I abide in Vine. When I joy in my limits - joy in my weakness - joy in his sufficiency - his power made perfect in weakness.

And until I find that place of perfect balance, I might, regrettably, have a few disappointed friends.