I want to surround myself with people more comfortable with literature than with social media. I want to pop into bookstores more and spend less time thinking about gadgets and Facebook. To be at the park with real books and not reading devices. To discover old professor men and women with dusty enclaves choked with books and papers and deep inquiries into existence that make the voguish arguments of atheism vs. Christianity the stuff of elementary playground spats.
While everyone is running toward more and more hyperconnectivity, more mobility, more technology and trends, games, gadgets and infographs, I want to sit still with the same books for years until I am fat and rich with an ancient wisdom.
Lord, please show me the path away from the chaos, the manic flow that seems hellbent on…hell.
Lord, please slow me down from the top of my head to the deepest parts of my gut, and give me words to speak that are foreign to this generation—maybe foreign to all but a few fixtures on European campuses—perhaps once well-known in centuries that are now mostly locked away.