I almost got run over this week at Market Basket. I was in the checkout lane looking down (at my phone I'm sure) when an elderly gentleman started backing up on one of Market Basket's scooters. A guy behind me shouted "He's fixing to run over you!"  I sidestepped with my little red basket reserved for the "under ten item shoppers" and barely escaped a broken toe. I thanked the guy behind me. 

  
Seconds later, I heard the guy behind me say something. Assuming we were now friends, being that he saved my toe, I turned around ready to respond. He wasn't looking at me but instead toward the rack of gossip magazines that Rylie calls out as sinful on every visit as she's straining to see Ben Affleck's new girlfriend on the cover of Star. 

"Was he talking to me?", I wondered. There was nobody with him or behind me but he hadn't acknowledged my turning towards him. I turned back around and stared at my phone again. 

Again he spoke and again I turned backward to face him, my new friend. I looked at him hoping he would repeat himself rather than making me ask him what he'd just said. This time he turned from the magazines and looked straight at me, but instead of repeating himself he looked at me like he was wondering why I was looking at him. 

Then he spoke...

-Only it wasn't to me, but somebody in his ear. He had one of those darned Bluetooth things that I wasn't aware of, on account of I forget about those things. He hadn't been talking to me at all (except for the toe-saving exclamation). 

Now I felt like the man on his scooter who was a little unaware of his surroundings. 

There are a couple of things I can think of that lead to this and other near accidents in front of me and the misunderstandings behind me. 

I need to look up. I have become obsessed with looking at my phone. It's my go to for information, entertainment and companionship. (Sad, I know.). 

 My phone tethers me in more ways than I'm aware. I answer every text like quicksilver. You've checked in somewhere on Facebook? I know where you are.  Yet I don't know that the gentleman in front of me is careening toward my person with his scooter which makes a noise loud enough noise to hear if you're paying any attention, which brings me to 

Problem #2

I can't hear. 

If you know me at all, you've probably heard me say something like 

"Can you tell me again." 

"What's that?"

"One more time?"

I've learned to read lips which works well unless you're the kids in the back of the car, you're the person on the other end of the phone, or you're the guy behind me in Market Basket trying to have a private conversation on Bluetooth. 

These two problems have caused me some embarrassment, feelings of isolation and on many occasions discouragement. 

My problem isn't limited to a phone habit or bad ears, I wish it was. I have small vision and a listening problem. 

By forgetting to look up, my vision is short-sided. I only see what's right in front of me.  My iPhone, yes, but more often my circumstances, keep me from seeing the bigger picture, the brighter picture. My focus is like the metallic ball in a pinball machine, small and unguided. 

I'm fixated on the sink full of dirty dishes that were all clean an hour ago. Im aggravated that my choice for the ESPN award isn't the one chosen. I'm worried at my kid's unexplained fever. I'm agitated that CVS doesn't have my prescription ready AGAIN at the promised time, as if that has grandiose eternal significance. 

Now about that hearing problem. It ties in closely to what I see, or don't see in front of me.  I can't help what I can't hear. But I can help who I listen to.  I can pay attention to the words on the lips of the One who speaks that I may hear.  I can disregard the voices that aren't meant for me, instead choosing the one that calls me to look up  giving me the proper perspective in which I can view all things. 

He has words of advice and encouragement with which he wishes to fill my ear and wrongly focused heart. His words remind me he is my friend. 

He waits for me to put down my phone, my worries, my frustrations and my preconceived notions. He desires that I depart from my routine, my company and the misleading voice in my head to look to him and the word he has for me. 

Unimposing, he waits. 

God has every intention of being my Bluetooth. He's the one in front, looking out for me and the one behind me. And he ALWAYS has a word for me.