The only time I remember my family buying a new phone growing up is when the one stuck to the wall, with it's pigtail cord that was so fun to wrap in, was replaced by the new and improved cordless phone.
Such possibilities opened up.
The old one wasn't broken, but this new thing, it was new. And everyone needs new.
My current phone is over a year old. It's not broken, but within another year it will likely be dated and dinosaured and I won't be able to update it any more because the software is old.
Not broken. Just, not new.
And a family in Africa will work, youngest to oldest, dawn to dusk, to mine the ore that will make my new phone to replace my old phone that's not actually broken.
I read an article last week about a man who started a free online tutorial site to help people fix common iphone problems. He was disconcerted by our throw-away mentality when it came to easy fixes.
We don't have time to fix things. Our idea of an easy fix is replacement.
We want new. Now.
And everything really is in this state of becoming more broken from the moment it's conceived - ideas, dreams, gadgets, babies. Everything born is launching toward broken but it's really only our hearts, our souls, that need this.
Brokenness makes way for mending.
This post is part of Five Minute Friday, where Lisa-Jo gives us a writing prompt and for five-frantic-minutes we write without worry. You can link-up on Lisa-Jo's Facebook page this week, since her site is, ya know, BROKEN.