Though I read it long ago, one of those pithy statements at the end of an Our Daily Bread devotional has come back to guide me recently.

It went something like this:

Patient: “Doc, I broke my arm in two places.”

Doctor: “Stay outa them places.”

I’ve been thinking about this lately in relation to the Internet and social media. It all seems to be louder, angrier and more reactionary with every passing day. On top of that, there’s so much “content” out there that seems pointless, to put it mildly.

A quick check of YouTube or Instagram proves this, but it really hit home one night when Randy and I were watching Master Chef: Legends (after having not watched broadcast television for many months). The show itself was good, but the programming previewed in the commercials seemed so vacuous and void of anything redeemable that it left me feeling a bit depressed.

The Bible doesn’t address 2021’s digital landscape specifically, but it certainly contains truths that are relevant today. Consider Psalm 12:8, for example: “The wicked prowl all around, and what is worthless is exalted by the human race.”

That pretty much sums up the state of our world today, doesn’t it?

Thankfully, though, the scriptures don’t leave us defenseless against this sad situation. Psalm 119 offers a strategy, stated in the form of a prayer:

“Teach me, Lord, the meaning of your statutes, and I will always keep them. Help me understand your instruction, and I will obey it and follow it with all my heart. Help me stay on the path of your commands, for I take pleasure in it. … Turn my eyes from looking at what is worthless; give me life in your ways. (Psalm 119:33-35, 37, emphasis added)

I don’t know about you, but that last part sounds a bit like “stay outa them places” to me.

We can’t control or dictate what other people look at for the most part, but we can manage where we fix our own gaze, and for how long. With the Holy Spirit’s help, we actually can keep our “eyes from looking at what is worthless.”

This might sound simple enough, but our devotion to our screens can make it tricky. How does the thought of going offline for a day—or even an hour—make you feel? I’m no expert, but I feel pretty confident suggesting that how we respond to this question is a good indication of exactly how addicted we are to our electronics.

And how badly we need to do something about it.

Last April, after noticing how much time I spent was wasting clicking from one article to another on my favorite news and commentary sites, I decided to stop looking at them altogether.

I still hear news on the radio. I get some email newsletters and Randy keeps me up to date on current events that interest me. But for the most part, no news is good news for my mental health.

I know this—I can see it and feel it—but even now, there are times when I really want to check the latest headlines. When I’m tired, bored or feeling out of sorts, the temptation is greater—as it often is for other addictive behavior.

Fortunately, as 1 Corinthians 10:13 promises, God won’t allow me to be tempted beyond my capacity to resist. He gives me a way to escape, I just have to use it.

I can literally close my browser and get up out of my chair. I can get outa that place, if only for the moment.

Quitting the news cold turkey was a good start, but last month I began sensing a draw to do something else when it comes to stewarding my time and attention. I wasn’t sure what, exactly, but I knew something was brewing in my heart and soul.

I wasn’t feeling prompted to fast from food one day a month, like I used to do many years ago. But what about “fasting” from the internet one day a week? Once the idea came to me, it wouldn’t let go.

So for the last month or so, that’s what I’ve been doing. Aside from texting family members and playing music on Spotify, I’m completely offline on Thursdays. No email, social media or Google.

I don’t have Instagram or email on my phone, so that helps. I’m not intentionally spending long periods of time praying or anything like that, but I do find myself engaging in more conversations with Jesus throughout the day.

I thought it would be really hard.

I thought I would struggle much more than I do.

Instead, it’s almost a relief.

One Thursday, among all my other regular activities, I had a very productive texting conversation with my daughter at college. I read three chapters in Mere Christianity. I wrote most of a blog post.

Nothing worthless about any of that, but plenty of life and meaning.

Now I look forward to Thursdays. They’ve been recalibrating my body, soul and spirit in ways I didn’t even know I needed. They’re helping me “live with a heart of integrity in my house” and assisting as I try to “not let anything worthless guide me.” (Psalm 101:2b-3a)

You know me. I’m not in the habit of telling everyone they should do what I do. There’s nothing legalistic about this; it’s simply a practice that is bringing me life right now.

I will say this, though. If the “places” you’re spending your time are sucking the life out of you—perhaps even turning you into someone you don’t recognize or don’t even like—you might want to consider staying outa them places. Even if it’s only for one day a week.

♥ Lois

P.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Recharge Wednesday, Let’s Have Coffee, Inspire Me Monday, #HeartEncouragement and Grace & Truth.