What if they actually knew us by our love?

I put Instagram back on my phone this morning and immediately regretted it. A few hours of scrolling on and off had my stomach in knots, my head spinning, my heart aching. Clear as day, a voice reminding me: you don’t have to be here.

There are so many places for healthy discourse—a dining room table, around the fire pit, a voxer thread. Social media is not my only option for processing thoughts and feelings this week. Come to think of it: social media might actually be a terrible, unfruitful, unhealthy option for processing thoughts and feelings this week.

Things I’m pondering on this Monday:

How can I guard my peace today?
How can I help others guard their peace today?
What does love require of me this week—in my home, in my marriage, in my motherhood, in my community?
In what ways can I be the hands and feet of Jesus right now?

Yesterday our pastor preached about meekness. As in—"blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” He drilled down the idea that meekness is strength under control. Meekness doesn’t need to have the last word, because it has nothing to prove.

Meekness is like a fire being contained in a fire pit, power giving off warmth and light. The key, though, is the containment. Because an uncontained fire burns everything in its path. I would know. I live in California, and I also spent a few hours on Instagram today.

In times like these, there are a lot of people vying for the last word. Scripture warns us to be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger. Is it just me, or does the opposite posture seem to be on display in the comment sections?

This is, of course, not surprising. Our society values assertiveness, confidence, a healthy dose of pride. We love bold statements. We love lead characters who are unyielding and determined. We view meekness as a deficiency, instead of what it actually is: a gentle strength rooted in self-control.

Here’s a question I’ve been pondering today—what if every believer on social media adopted meekness as their official stance? What if there was a real, tangible, noticeable difference in how non-believers and believers acted online? What if people actually knew us by our love?

I’m supposed to be “on” Instagram this week, but one of the greatest blessings of deleting IG on a hyper consistent basis is that I know, deep in my bones, when I’m not supposed to be there. I no longer second guess the conviction. I don’t try to argue with the nudge. I just … obey. I exit the app, press the icon, and move through the sequence. Not because I’m lazy, and want to stick my head in the sand. Not because I want to avoid conflict. Not because I don’t care. Not because I don’t have an opinion, or valid thoughts (possibly) worth sharing.

I simply don’t need to have the last word—now, or ever. By the grace of God, I have nothing to prove.