Just Say "Wait"

My son got his first cell phone this weekend. The only thing that makes this remarkable is that he's 16 1/2.

When he was 8 or 9, we made the decision to buck the system and minimize our kids' technology as long as possible. The decision came after hearing someone I deeply respect talk about the skills kids have lost as they've come to rely on their phones for everything, and the premature authority they've gained by having the world at their fingertips at the age of 12.

This was confirmed by a conversation I had on an airplane with a youth pastor. She was in charge of an overnight lock-in at her church for junior high kids. One boy, at about 11 p.m., decided he wasn't having a good time and texted his dad to come get him. The dad did, thinking, of course, that the boy had spoken with the adults in charge first. But that hadn't happened. The boy was bored and ready to go home, and he had an easy fix. Without a phone, he would have needed to talk to an adult, who likely would have talked him into staying. Instead, the boy made a unilateral decision that launched a citywide manhunt for a missing 13-year-old. That is premature authority.

I didn't want that for my child, but there were certain things I did want. Like for him to be fully present with the people around him and to learn to live by his wits. Stranded after school without a phone? Figure it out. Forgot your homework? You'll have to solve that one on your own. I also didn't want to fight the battles that parents everywhere are forced to fight with their phone-obsessed kids. I heard stories of well intending mothers who purchased cell phones so they could keep tabs on their kids, only to lose these same kids to the very technology that they had brought eagerly into their lives. I wanted my kids talking to me, not some pimply-faced pre-teen doling out questionable advice on the other end of a phone.

So we held off when Braden turned 13, and again when he entered high school. By high school, we were lone rangers. I could tell the office ladies were confused when I occasionally called to get a message to my son in algebra. But they took down my message, and he got it. Some of his teachers were surprised when he wasn't able to receive their texted announcements, but he got the information other ways. Sometimes, but not often, he had to borrow a friend's phone. Sometimes he used the land line in the school office. You'd be surprised at how many kids have no idea what a land line is or that they exist in nearly every public place. I grew up asking the lady at the library if I could use her phone, and kids today aren't above such things.

Then Braden turned 16 last summer. He began getting into a vehicle and driving off by himself. This is quite an adjustment for a mother. She knows the law has deemed this a safe and legal activity, but she also knows that this same boy still plays with Legos, sleeps in his size 10/12 high-water jammie bottoms, and can't for the life of him put the Rice Krispies away in the morning. And now he's going to sail down the highway at 75 miles an hour.

We did have a phone for Braden to use when he drove, but by 16, he was so unaccustomed to using it that he either forgot it or didn't turn it on. This frustrated me until I analyzed why it frustrated me. Moms everywhere now expect their young drivers to check in. They expect them to be at their parents' beckon call. This all makes sense in 2016, but for generations of mothers and teenagers, this was not an option. When I started driving, my mom relied on prayer, faith, and my own good sense to get me home safely. I found that sending Braden out into the world without me--and without a phone--was good for my prayer life and good for building his driving confidence. And if trouble came, he'd have an excellent opportunity to rely on his wits.

That was well and good until last week, when we had three places to be at the same time. In the past, this would have been a dilemma, but now we have three drivers. Glory be! Braden could drive his 8-year-old sister to basketball practice. Except that it's snowing. The roads are icy, the practice is in an unfamiliar place, and it will be dark when they return home. I don't think an 8-year-old should have to rely on her wits, nor on her 16-year-old brother's wits.

Of course they made it to basketball and back, sans phone, just fine. Braden had more driving confidence, Camryn's basketball skills increased, and I had yet another example of how God cares for my children far outside my reach. But still. It was time.

Every family makes their own decisions about when to allow new technology into their lives and when to keep it at bay. I don't expect a whole lot of people to agree with the decision we made, but that's not my intent. My purpose is to tell the parents of 4th graders, 6th graders, and even 8th and 10th graders, that your child can live without a phone. Don't let them tell you otherwise. No matter how hard they beg, no matter that every other child in their school has a phone and couldn't possibly live without it, let me assure you that a phone is not essential to a child's life and fruitfulness. If you're not ready to bring it--or Instagram, Snapchat, or any number of things that I don't know exist--into their lives, don't. Listen to your gut and do not be swayed. Swim upstream on this one, and feel good about doing it. You'll know when the time is right.