Everyday a message pops up on my phone. Notifying me that my iCloud storage is full and I need to upgrade. This means I need to either pay for more storage on my plan or I need to clean out my phone to make room.

Everyday I dismiss the message. I click close. “I’ll deal with it later, when I have time.” Sometimes I chuckle to myself. “That’s a funny joke B. Like time is something you have! Ha Ha Ha.”
I’m embarrassed to say this has gone on for years. For as long as I can remember, my iCloud storage has been full. It’s just one of those things I never get to. I have no idea when I would ever have time to sort through everything and I don’t want to pay more money to store countless photos I have yet to sort through.
I began to wonder, who else has this problem? Is there anyone else who gets this message? Or is it just me.

I began to realize that this message: “iCloud storage is full”, its not just related to my phone, its a digital representation of my life.
My LIFE is too full.
There is no more space.
There is no room, no margin.
It wasn’t always like this. I remember being a kid and looking so forward to the weekend because I had two full days of NOTHING. I could do whatever I wanted. I could sleep in. I could read a book, play outside, draw, or listen to music. I remember spending hours on a Saturday listening to the radio with my tape recorder, my finger on the record button, waiting for a beach boys song to come on so I could record it on tape. WHO HAS THAT AMOUNT OF TIME?!
As a young adult I worked tirelessly to get through my school work or normal work with the intention of having time off. Time to go fishing with my best friend, or stay up all hours of the night playing rockband.
That is not a luxury I enjoy anymore. Every waking moment is filled with something. Some task that I am supposed to do. So many job titles, Wife, Mother, Aunt, Sister, Daughter, Pastor, Mentor, Teacher. I embrace all of them yet with each one my life becomes more and more full. How did it get this way?
This busyness, this fullness, this “at capacity” syndrome is everywhere. We cram more and more into each 24 hour day. Task upon task. Expectations for days.
Life races past as we try desperately to keep up.

Even when we do have moments of stillness, an opportunity to stop and be quiet, we fill it with something. A distraction. And in turn we miss out on a beautiful gift.

For it is in the stillness, in the quiet, in the margin, that God speaks.
How can we hear him if we never stop to listen?
It will not happen by accident. We have created a world where noise is a constant and extreme effort is required to turn it all off.
It can be done. And the reward is worth it. What could be better than time spent with the creator of the universe? The creator of you.
So when your iCloud storage is full, or you see your inbox with 2391 emails you haven’t sorted through, or your snapchat notifications are nonstop. Take that as a reminder to stop. To be still. And seek God. There is nothing more important than that.

I wait quietly before God, for my victory comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress where I will never be shaken. So many enemies against one man—all of them trying to kill me.
To them I’m just a broken-down wall or a tottering fence. They plan to topple me from my high position. They delight in telling lies about me. They praise me to my face but curse me in their hearts.
Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in him.
He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress where I will not be shaken.
My victory and honor come from God alone. He is my refuge, a rock where no enemy can reach me. O my people, trust in him at all times. Pour out your heart to him, for God is our refuge.
Psalm 62:1-8