The Luna-Sized Phone

Luna found an old calculator at her grandparents’ house, and they let her bring it home.

We couldn’t figure out why she was so captivated by the thing. I’ve been watching her carry it everywhere. She sets it down. Picks it back up and pokes at it. Sets it back down. Then she gasps, “Oh!” and picks it right back up again. She falls asleep with it at nap time, curled around it like it matters.

And on a walk once, she held it in her hand the entire way. We passed a woman talking on her phone as she walked, and I watched my daughter lift that broken calculator to her ear and say, “Hello!” into it. Like it was her own little Luna-sized phone.

At some point on that walk, it dawned on me.

She isn’t playing with a calculator. She’s playing with a picture of us.

Not just her dad and me, either. The whole world around her. The way we carry these things on our bodies wherever we go. The way a thought pops into our heads and our hand is already reaching, already looking something up without hesitation. She’s watching all of it. She’s been watching this whole time.

And here’s the part that guts me. She sees how we prioritize this stupid little thing. Sometimes even over being present with her.

I try so hard to be intentional about it. Phone in my pocket, phone out of reach, phone anywhere but in my hand when she’s in the room. And honestly, that’s the hardest part of building any kind of online presence or business. The tension of needing to be on my phone and desperately wanting to be fully here with her. It’s a balance I have not mastered yet.

I know what it feels like to want a parent’s attention when they’re so wrapped up in “work” that the important things slip right past them. I know how that feels from the inside. And I never, ever want Luna to feel that way about me.

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Then recently at church, we were reminded of Mary and Martha.

And it wrecked me a little, because Martha wasn’t doing anything wrong. That’s what we always miss about that story. She was busy with important things. Real things. Things that genuinely needed doing. She was serving, and preparing, and worrying about all of it.

And she missed that Jesus was right there.

How easy is that? Not just with Jesus, although goodness, He literally lives inside of us and we still manage to miss Him because we’re busy with other things. But with our own families too. The choices we make are for our children. The work, the building, the providing. It’s all for them.

But sometimes what they need most is simply our undivided attention.

God first. Trust that He will provide for the needs we’re so busy trying to cover ourselves. And then be present with the people He gave us. Because our children are the only thing we can actually bring to heaven with us, if we set them on the right path. Not the money. Not the phones. Not the business. None of that is coming with us.

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So here’s what I actually want to change, and it’s small.

I want to stop picking up my phone first.

It starts so honestly, too. I’m just checking the time. But then there are messages. Emails. Notifications that NEED to be looked at immediately. And by the time I look up, I’ve completely forgotten that I didn’t want to start my day this way at all.

I try to be intentional about turning toward Luna the second she wakes up, and most days I do pretty well. Unless she wakes up and catches me scrolling first.

I’m not writing this to point a finger. Trust me, I’m standing in the same room. I deserve the same look I’m giving everyone else. Some of this is just the world we live in, and I’m not going to pretend I’ve figured out how to live outside of it.

But we can make better choices. We can show our children what we believe should come first. Not by saying it, but by what our hands reach for without thinking.

And she’s watching to see where ours goes.