Daily Technology and Human Connection

Dear God of every flickering screen and every longing heart,

I confess that I have scrolled past more faces today than my grandparents met in a month. I have "liked" without loving, "shared" without sacrificing, and "connected" without ever being known. And yet You — the One who spoke galaxies into motion — still choose to meet us face to face, spirit to spirit, wound to wound.

Matthew 5:44 asks the unthinkable: love your enemies, pray for those who persecute you. In a digital age, my enemies wear avatars. They are the strangers in comment sections whose words make my blood run hot, the former friend whose posts I hate-read, the faceless voice that makes me want to type something I would never say across a dinner table. But You do not say, "Love your enemies from a safe distance." You say love them — the way a mother holds a fevered child, the way a father leaves the porch light on.

So today, before I tap "reply" to the person who offends me, let me pause long enough to remember they, too, were formed from dust and divine breath. Let me put down my phone long enough to look into the eyes of someone sitting in the same room. Let me use these miraculous tools not as walls but as bridges — sending the text that says "I'm praying for you" and meaning every syllable.