Reflections Upon Losing My iPhone

As I mentioned in my previous post, recently I lost my iPhone -- or had it stolen.  Or both.  I think dropped it (or set it down) in the courtyard (or the foyer) of the condo building where we live, and when I went back to look for it, it was gone.  So, either: 1) the phone is somewhere in our condo where neither my husband nor I have been able to find it, or 2) somebody took it and doesn't intend to give it back (I called and texted the phone multiple times in an attempt to retrieve it).

Yes, I've now suspended the AT&T account and changed all the passwords I could think to change.
No, I did not have the "find my iPhone" application installed.
Yes, I've searched the grounds, foyer, and condo multiple times.
Yes, I've posted signs and contacted the condo board.
Yes, I've done my share of Craigslist stalking to see if someone puts my phone up for sale.
No, I'm not yet "over" the loss of the phone.

Which brings me to the point of my post -- I'm conflicted about my reaction to the loss of my phone (which I had named Alice McNess, by the way -- Alice because the case was "Alice blue" and McNess for my husband's middle name because he surprised me with the phone in the first place).

When I was first looking for the phone and realized it was nowhere to be found, I burst into tears -- and cried for a long, long time.  Now, I'm not someone who enjoys crying.  In fact, I normally resist it with all my might.  But losing my iPhone made me lose my emotional control.  Why?

When I woke up the next day, I still felt upset and on the verge of tears, and I continued to feel upset for the rest of the day.  I kept going back over my actions, desperately checking my email and looking outside our front door to see if someone had responded to the posted signs and/or returned the phone.  I felt depressed, and I continued to feel upset and depressed off and on for most of this week -- even though my husband and I are in vacation this week!

When the internet connection at the lake house where we're staying was spotty, I kept thinking, "if only I had my iPhone, I could connect to this website in no time."  When I went on a run/walk and ended up a lot further away than I anticipated, I couldn't help but think, "I don't even have my phone with me in case I get lost or mugged!"  When Erik and I were in the car and needed to Google something, I would blurt out, "if I had my iPhone I could look it up!"  Pathetic, right?

Why do I feel so upset about losing that phone?  After all, it's just a THING, right?  Is it... ok that losing that phone made me go through all the phases of grief (except for acceptance - still waiting on that one)?

Does this mean that I've grown too attached to "earthly, material pleasures"? Did God "cause" me to lose my phone in order to show me that my priorities are skewed away from the things of His kingdom?  In fact, would it be wrong for me to replace my phone because that money could be better spent as a donation to compassion ministries, etc.?

What about the other ministers I know who have iPhones, and even iPads?  Are these things luxuries that an unselfish, responsible Christian should forgo, or are they more... neutral items?

I don't have a lot of nice things, and I didn't grow up having the latest, greatest technological marvels.  When I was little, my brother and I got excited when we went to the doctor because they would give us coupons for McDonalds hamburgers -- and that was the only time we got to eat at McDonalds because of the expense (that was before dollar menus).  I drooled over iPhones from when they first came out, but I didn't think I'd ever be able to have one.  So, when my husband surprised me with an iPhone before I had surgery last January, I was ECSTATIC!!!  I love surprises anyway, and this one was SO FUN!!!  The iPhone quickly integrated itself into my life, enabling me to check email wherever I was, browse Twitter while walking the dog, get discounts through "checking in" on Yelp, etc.  Did I mention that I loved it?

Having an iPhone always felt like a privilege, one that I don't think I ever took for granted.  And then all of a sudden, just when I was happy and energized from spending a few days with my parents in California, it was gone.  Not just lost at an airport or in a taxi cab -- lost on my home turf, and snatched out from under my nose.

So I feel terribly disappointed -- something I valued a lot, something that brought me a lot of enjoyment, is gone, and we can't afford to replace it right now.  And I feel angry, angry that someone would keep my one indulgent toy.  And I feel helpless, helpless because there's nothing I can do to turn back the clock and get it back.  And I feel guilty -- guilty that I feel so upset about losing a silly phone!  And I want to pray that it will be returned, but isn't that prayer... shallow at best, materialistic and selfish at worst?  I don't know.  I only know that I miss my phone, and I still hope that when I return from vacation, it will magically be waiting for me.

A Mixed Start

Well, I am midway through my two weeks of vacation, and so far the highlights have been:

• Visiting my parents in California for a few days
• Eating at my favorite seafood restaurant in CA, "The Crab Cooker"
• Spending a day at the beach (the real, ocean-rimming beach -- not the pathetic thing that lake-goers call the beach)
• A monstrous sunburn on certain parts of my formerly pasty Midwest body
• Visiting my brother in Santa Barbara and meeting his girlfriend (thankfully, I liked her -- unlike his ex!)
• Being the 6th person to hear and see the score for a new choral/orchestral work that one of my dad's friends wrote -- based on the 1st chapter of Job!!  Fascinating and moving.

Unfortunately, immediately after I returned to Illinois, my vacation took a turn for the worst -- my iPhone disappeared.  I think I dropped it somewhere in the courtyard or foyer of our apartment complex, and someone picked it up... and decided not to return it.  I'm still holding onto a little bit of hope that it will still be returned, but in the meantime I am grieving this little loss.

However, I've been making good progress on my book quest, and since I still have a week left of vacation (at my in-laws' lake house), there might be more progress to come!

In my last post, I mentioned that I was not impressed, thus far, with Wilkie Collins' The Woman in White.  Well, I ended up really enjoying the book!  During the first part of the book, I thought it was going to be a bunch of sentimental nonsense, but it turned out to be a bit of a mystery story, with wonderful twists and turns!  I can imagine that in its day it would have been an on-the-edge-of-your-seat thriller.  I loved the way Wilkie Collins experimented with different narrative voices, and I especially loved the way he took his time unfolding the "answers" to the many mysteries raised in the plot.  It's still a bit melodramatic in parts for my taste, but all-in-all a very enjoyable read.  I *think* I understand why it's on the list -- if Wilkie Collins had lived to see movies, he would have written a darn good thriller flick.

I finished another book too (The Remains of the Day), but I'll save my reflections on that for tomorrow.

David Copperfield

And once again, the iPhone Kindle format comes through -- I finished a major Dickens novel without any major difficulties!  I'm not sure whether I just found David Copperfield more readable than Bleak House, or my tastes have improved, or the iPhone format really does help me focus and feel like I'm making progress in the novel.   

[Side note: I keep forgetting that a Google search of "David Copperfield images" tends to pull up pictures of the magician.]

One way or another, I actually enjoyed David Copperfield.  Other than the fact that I hated Dora.  HATED that character.  Part of my ambivalence over Dickens in general is due to his sentimentality -- it really gets to me.  And Dora has to be one of his most sentimentalized (and inane) characters!  I realize that that's the point -- David doesn't end up calling her his "child-wife" for no reason -- but she drove me crazy!  And I just plain hate having my heartstrings yanked by Dickens in saccharine sentences like,

 "I wondered what she was thinking about, as I glanced in admiring silence at the little soft hand travelling up the row of buttons on my coat, and at the clustering hair that lay against my breast, and at the lashes of her downcast eyes, slightly rising as they followed her idle fingers.  At length her eyes were lifted up to mine, and she stood on tiptoe to give me, more thoughtfully than usual, that precious little kiss -- once, twice, three times -- and went out of the room."

I guess that isn't SO bad... but it's the best/worst example I could find quickly on my iPhone [one disadvantage of the Kindle thing -- you can't "flip through" the pages].

After prose that cloying, I feel like I should go read some Hemingway.

On the other hand, I loved David's aunt, Betsy Trotwood -- what a character!  I especially love how that tough old bird has such a tender, compassionate heart -- it was quite a relief when David (I keep wanting to call him Pip!) ends up in her care after all the travails of his miserable childhood.

Now I'm on to The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins.  Honestly, it's not my favorite so far.  I'd better read something non-Victorian after this one...