THE SHIELD IN OUR HAND

What we gained in convenience may be costing us in calling.

---

---

When I look at the phone in our hand now… I see a counterfeit shield.

God told us to take up the shield of faith.

Not the shield of noise. Not the shield of distraction. Not the shield of endless alerts. Not the shield of artificial urgency.

Faith.

Yet somewhere along the way… many of us began reaching first for the glowing shield in our hand — instead of the unseen one protecting our soul.

---

Some truths do not arrive when you are young.

They arrive after decades.

After pressure. After deadlines. After long drives. After ringing phones. After victories no one sees… and costs no one knew.

They arrive when a man has lived long enough to compare roads.

---

DEDICATION

To the years of trials, pressure, victories, losses, and long labor in the workforce — years that taught me much, cost me much, and eventually led me to the foot of the Cross, where I can now look back and see the contrast of where I traveled, where I landed, and where by grace I am going.

To my wife, Marty — who stood beside me through those years, carried burdens with me, believed through seasons with me, and helped build not only a future, but an eternity-centered life.

To the Holy Spirit — who walked with me even when I did not understand it, guarded me when I could not see it, and now teaches me the beauty of stillness, quiet places, and hearing His voice.

And to anyone who feels the pull of this age — who knows convenience is real, but knows the cost is too — this one is for you.

---

SCRIPTURE

“Above all, taking the shield of faith…” — Ephesians 6:16

“My sheep hear My voice…” — John 10:27

“Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10

---

There was a season when I had a big red phone sitting on my desk.

When it rang, I got excited.

Because you never knew who was on the other end.

It might be opportunity. It might be growth. It might be favor. It might be the next open door.

I built a career on technology.

I know what it gives.

I also know what it takes.

---

Then time passed.

And the same ring that once stirred excitement… began stirring tension.

Maybe it was the IRS. Maybe it was regulation. Maybe it was bad news. Maybe it was another problem entering the room.

Same phone.

Different meaning.

Now fast forward.

We carry phones in our pockets, beside our beds, at our tables, in our cars, in our hands while life itself is happening.

And half the time… we still don’t know who’s on the other end.

Spam. Fraud. Phishing. Noise. Urgency pretending to matter.

---

Then one thought hit me hard.

What if that phone rang… and Jesus was on the other end?

What would He say?

Would He ask why I answer everything else so quickly — yet make Him wait?

Would He remind me what matters?

Would He tell me to slow down?

Would He tell me to forgive someone?

Would He tell me to come outside?

Would He tell me to be still long enough to hear Him again?

Would He ask why I gave my best attention to everything but Him?

Or maybe…

He already has been calling.

Just not through the device in my pocket.

Through conviction. Through Scripture. Through silence. Through sunsets. Through dogs waiting in the yard. Through the wife beside me. Through the ache in my spirit that knows there must be more.

---

The phone in our pocket rings all day.

And we keep missing His call.

---

There was a time not everyone had a cell phone.

Now almost everyone does.

That alone should make us pause.

What was once a tool… is now nearly attached to identity.

Technology is not going away.

So the real question is no longer — should we use it?

The real question is — who is using whom?

We gained convenience… and often lost presence.

We gained speed… and lost depth.

We gained connection to the world… and lost connection across the street.

We gained a glowing shield… and forgot the one heaven gave us.

And many never noticed the trade… until years were gone.

And somewhere in all of it, we began carrying more memories of other people’s lives… than our own.

---

I know both worlds.

I know what it means to need the phone. I know what it means to build with it. I know what it means to be burdened by it.

And I know the freedom that comes when it no longer owns your reach, your mornings, your dinner table, your thoughts, or your peace.

Half the time now, I can’t even find mine.

And strangely enough — I love that.

I know. Because I lived it. For years.

---

I remember neighborhoods where garage doors stayed open.

People sat in lawn chairs. Kids ran through sprinklers. Dogs barked across fences. Someone stopped by just to say hello.

Now many doors are shut. Locked. Gated. Secured.

And many people live behind walls… while also hiding behind a screen.

The thing about shields is this — they protect.

But they also block.

They block interruption. They block awkwardness. They block silence.

But they can also block neighbors. Block tenderness. Block conversation. Block presence.

And sometimes… block the voice of God.

I think about my sister in the Truckee mountains.

Walking dogs. Breathing pine air. Living outdoors. Moving in creation. Hearing quiet.

She once said she found the ultimate place in life.

I believe her.

Because some wealth cannot be measured by signal strength.

Some riches never appear on a screen.

So I’m not here to preach.

I’m here to reflect.

I’m here to ask what voice gets our quickest response.

I’m here to ask what matters when the room gets quiet.

As for me — I want the days ahead to look different.

More yard time. More dog time. More walking time. More laughter. More prayer. More eye contact. More gratitude. More peace.

I want to use technology — without letting it use me.

I want to hold tools loosely.

I want to hold faith tightly.

---

When my Heavenly Father calls me home, I pray the shield of faith is in my hand — not the one in my pocket.

---

What steals sand from your hourglass grain by grain?

---

One day every phone will go silent.

Only eternal things will still be speaking.

---

MY PRAYER

Heavenly Father,

Thank You for every useful tool — but forgive me where tools became masters.

Forgive wasted attention. Forgive divided thoughts. Forgive missed moments. Forgive misplaced priorities.

Teach me stewardship in this age.

Restore my hearing for Your voice. Restore my hunger for what is real. Restore my joy in simple things.

Teach me again to take up the shield of faith first.

And when You call… let me hear You clearly.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

---

ABOUT G~

G~ writes from lived experience — exploring identity, authority, and time through the lens of faith, trial, leadership, and surrender. His reflections are not meant to condemn or hype, but to steady. Rooted in covenant, forged through adversity, and anchored under the authority of Jesus Christ, his work invites readers to examine who governs their lives — and to live intentionally under truth.

If what you’ve read resonates with your journey, feel free to reach out.

G~

---

---

---