There used to be “something special” about taking a picture, back in the dark ages before the digital revolution. With only 24 pictures available on a roll of film, that was purchased, which had to “get developed,” complete with chemicals, a darkroom, and something called negatives, the act of taking a picture required a bit of planning and thought. If the angle wasn’t quite right, or the image didn’t work in the viewfinder, or the lighting was off that day, the photographer might think twice about wasting a shot. Good photos were prized – put in albums, matted and frame, entered in contests.

Now, look ahead twenty years, and is there anything inherently ‘special’ when anyone can snap a picture of anything, at any time, and exhibit it to as many people as they would like, every day? Every phone has a built-in camera. Pictures are cheap – they cost nothing, do not need developing, and everybody takes them. Of everything that moves. So they can post them on this online site called Facebook – or Snapchat – or Twitter – or Instagram – or a host of other screens.

Even if one is not caught up in the picture taking or selfie craze, there is an incessant pull to look at other people’s pictures – all the time.  Phones with photos are often included in conversations these days.

I don’t know about you, but I find myself getting sucked in, overwhelmed, and ultimately tired and discouraged by the prolific use and sharing of content, photos, and videos through digital technology. Unsure of the origin of my discomfort, I turn to articles written about the negative effects of social media and the internet. And they are out there. Our culture, obsessed with gadgets and apps, is losing out on some things. Like the ability to focus. Or to have real relationships. Or to show up or talk to someone rather than email or text. I also believe we are provoking ourselves to jealousy and covetousness by having such an open window into other people’s lives via social media.

Still unsatisfied by my discoveries, I read articles about personality. Perhaps my personality type is not geared for social media, and that’s why I find it overwhelming and disheartening.

And my thoughts spiral down as I read about the addictive power of the internet and social media, which is becoming widely recognized as a mental health issue. This is easy to see in others and even in myself when I try to turn it off for a day, or even an hour.

So I do the hard thing. I turn off my phone and ignore facebook for a good 40 day Lenten period and finally tune in to what the Bible has been silently speaking to me all along.  And the words, “for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God” (Colossians 3:3 ESV) leap out at me.

Hidden with Christ. That seems significant. What exactly does this mean? There is a lot to think about. The essence of being hidden is to be unseen. The essence of posting on social media is to be seen and heard. These two ideas seem painfully opposite to me.

The pain point lies in whether I can both die to myself and hide my life with Christ and post about my life on social media sites? Or does dying to myself mean that I refrain from posting my thoughts, ideas, photos, and videos on social media sites?

Did anyone every say dying is painless? I can check social media to be sure.

But any death of our flesh, however painful, has the promise of resurrection – and a glorious finish. “When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.” (Colossians 3:4 ESV)