Silent.

Yet, I noticed the sun was starting to come up, so I must have missed my alarm.

My phone was dead. No light. No numbers . . . nothing.

I got up and checked my watch. It was 5:25, but my alarm was set for 5:00. The phone was absolutely dead. It was plugged in, the outlet worked, but it did not charge. In fact, the charge was completely drained.

My mind was abuzz through the time showering, shaving, and fixing coffee. Then, as I sat down to read II Chronicles about the reforms under the good king Hezekiah, I found that I read slower and more deliberately than most mornings.

Still, I was irked: What happened to my phone? I tried plugging it into three other outlets and nothing. Do I cancel appointments to go to the phone store this morning? Or, do I go without a phone for a day? Then I thought, Why not just go off the grid for a week? Wait! I am a seminary president! I must be available all the time. But what if I am not? Things were so simple, quiet, and uncluttered the morning my phone died.

Silent. The drip, drip, drip of water on the downspout was the only thing I heard all morning. I heard no music from Spotify and no “dings” from WhatsApp or texts. I had no idea if it was going to be sunny or rainy that day.

Then I thought, I have to develop new patterns without having access to the world of cell phones. Can I do that? Silence in the morning. Only the dripping of the water on the downspout. Maybe it will rain today. I don’t know.

I have often repeated two helpful phrases that have guided me in my own life and as I help parents raise kids and work with seminary students in their own discipleship:

1. “Patience and self-control are instrumental virtues that make all other virtues possible.”
2. “The daily rhythms and patterns we live into define who we become.”

First, patience and self-control. The cell phone is designed to make us impatient and to abandon internal constraints. It wires us to be constantly checking social media, texts, email, news, weather, the number of steps we’ve taken, and other forms of nonessential distractions. I have been a strong proponent of self-control yet, the morning my phone died, I found myself consumed with the distraction of trying ten or twelve times to resurrect it. What is wrong with me?

This caused me to pause. I sat in a quiet room and reflected on how little self-control and patience I really possess. Holiness requires absolute focus on Jesus Christ with no distractions.

Secondly, we become the patterns we live each day. Compulsive runners are shaped by daily routines of stretching, running, and pushing themselves to achieve lower times. Diet, sleep, even family and work time revolve around the determination of one who is “a runner.” In a similar way, our Christian lives will make us more like Jesus if we adopt deeply ingrained patterns every day—rhythms that center around our devotion and sculpt us into the likeness of Jesus. “Pray without ceasing” will do more to make you a different person than checking TikTok without ceasing. The same can be said of the habit of daily working at memorizing Scripture. We are transformed as Scripture becomes part of how we think about life, decisions, neighbors, suffering, joy. Meditating on Scripture takes time. It is years before deep changes take place in our spiritual reflexes, conversations, and meditations. It comes down to daily rhythms. Every day. For a long time.

And no phone.

The day my phone died turned out to be a great day. Indeed, I feared the possibility of having to get a new phone, wondering if I’d lose my old texts, photos, and addresses. But I asked myself if I could let go of all this valuable information and these images and connections? Ultimately I realized that, while phones are an important tool that can render many blessings, I don’t need my phone so much as I desperately need God’s Word, every day. “For the Word of God is alive and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow, discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart” (Hebrews 4:12). I’m glad I memorized that!

Lord, help me. Help us all.