(I have a book all about that, as a matter of fact.)
As it turns out, Advent’s on my mind:
If you’re like me, you find yourself, so often, at the beginning of Advent with a glassy stare and a list that’s longer than Santa’s. You’ll have shopping to do, baking to finish, wrapping and cleaning and a host of other things, all demanding your attention. And I haven’t even taken into account the day-to-day items that don’t pause in the face of all the extras.
For a number of years, I felt like something was missing from my Advent. A few years ago, I started to realize what it was.
Though I refused to decorate before the week before Christmas, and though I paid great lip service to the loveliness of the Advent season, I wasn’t preparing myself to welcome my Savior on Christmas.
I didn’t mean to turn to Mary. She was just there, in the Nativity. She looked so calm and serene. She was as different from me as it was possible to be.
And then there’s this, which has nothing to do with Advent:
Over the years, I’ve found that the curve to technology balance is constantly changing. No sooner did I get my online time sort of figured out with my laptop when there was an explosion of tablets and different online accessibility.
When I first got my iPad, I thought it would be an answer to my digital reading dreams. I thought the app side of things might be icing on my gadget girl cake, but not necessarily important.
What I found, instead, was that reading the Internet was suddenly a LOT easier. Thanks to a few different apps (especially Instapaper), I was able to read without the clutter of sidebars, save things for later and share them with others through my social networks.