Beware of WPU Syndrome
- Marji Stevens
- Oct 19
- 4 min read
When I became a widow, I developed a condition I call:
Word-Pile-Up syndrome. I used to get such a buildup of words that I swear the UPS man used to toss packages on the porch and run if he saw me coming. I think they had a file on me: Watch out for the woman at #2458. If you stop to talk, you won’t finish your route until midnight.
It seems God created me with a mind that produces an abundance of words, along with the compulsion to share them. I wake up in the morning, talking. Bill used to say, “Woman, you’ve used my entire day’s worth of words and your feet haven’t even touched the floor.”
When my kids were little, I’d be home all day and get severe Word-Pile-Up. Poor Bill would walk in the door after a long, hard day of teaching, and I’d greet him with a plethora of words. He’d drop his book bag on the floor and sigh, “Let me get in the door!"
I love to communicate, but I needed to find the right timing. Sometimes thoughts race around in my brain like bumper cars, and it takes deliberate action to turn off my engines and focus.
I remember years ago, I went looking for my husband, Bill, and found him sitting on the porch. He wasn’t reading or listening to anything; he was just sitting there. (Who does that?) I pushed through the screen door, “Oh, goodie, let’s talk.” I announced and plopped down in the chair beside him. Bill didn’t respond; he only shifted slightly in his seat.
“By the way,” I continued, ignoring his clues. “Have you noticed the paint on the fence is peeling?
Again, he shifted.
… Wow, look at the WEEDS … and have you noticed that dead branch up there?” I pointed. “That could crash down any minute and land on the car … Which reminds me, have you called the insurance guy yet?”
“Can’t you be QUIET? Golly, woman, I don’t know if you want me to run for the paint scraper, grab the hoe, or climb the tree with the chainsaw! JUST BREATHE,” he said.
It took me a while to learn Bill’s signals. The poor guy was trying to relax and enjoy the morning. Relaxing doesn't come naturally to me. I have to work at it. (“Work at relaxing?” Sounds like an oxymoron, doesn’t it?) I’d rather be busy.
My new husband, Robert, is like Bill. I wonder if all men, or just mine, have a room in their brains where they can go, shut the door, and think nothing. NO words are allowed in there. That’s something I’ve never experienced outside of anesthesia.
Fortunately, I experienced the joy of being still before the Lord before I got a cellphone. That created another problem. Now lots of people have Word Pile-Up Syndrome, because they text instead of talking. In restaurants, you’ll see a whole table of people sitting in silence. But, if you were to ask them if they’re talking, they’d insist they are. So, texting IS talking? I prefer actual words that have to run through my ears.
(I wonder, are ears like muscles? If we don’t use them, will they atrophy?)
It’s hard enough for me to focus my thoughts, but if the phone is in the room, it gets much harder. Every time the phone signals a message has come in, that dreaded DING sparks my curiosity, and I have to fight the urge to see what it is.
If you tap on Facebook, watch out! If you’re not careful, it can infect you with another modern-day epidemic I call MSS: Mindless Scrolling Syndrome. I enjoy those ‘shorts’ on Facebook, and I promise myself only five minutes … wham… an hour has evaporated … and that demon time-thief has sucked you in again.
If we want quality time with the Lord, we have to deal with our phones. Here are a few suggestions:
1. NO phones in the prayer closet. God wants me to unload all the words that have piled up in my mind at His feet. Put the phone in another room, leave it in your car, bury it under pillows, smash it with a hammer … anything so you can’t hear the distracting ‘ding’ when you’re trying to pray. Because…
2. The ‘ding’ can wait. It sounds urgent, but it’s rarely important.
3. No news might be the best news.
Never before in the history of mankind have we held news from the entire world in the palm of our hands. Our concerns used to center around our family, immediate neighborhood, and church. Maybe you pray about the news—that’s wonderful. I like to stay informed, but perhaps not all the news is healthy to hear.
(Psychologists have actually come up with a name to describe this new phenomenon people are experiencing: Doomscrolling. It’s the excessive reading of negative news on social media. Over time, it can become a compulsive and harmful habit, leading to anxiety, distress, and the constant sense of “impending doom.”)
Proverbs says, “The person with understanding is always looking for wisdom, but the mind of a fool wanders everywhere” (Proverbs 17:24 NCV).
Scrolling and tapping on social media can easily be seen as the wanderings of a fool. Research indicates that it has a similar impact on the nervous system as slot machines. Each tap triggers a release of dopamine—a short burst of pleasure—and you unconsciously repeat the process to feel it again. It is not what you see, but what you might see that keeps you hooked.”[1]
Robert and I have learned to put our phones in another room during dinner. Now we enjoy a much more peaceful meal without the ‘dings’. We actually communicate—an art we are all in danger of losing.
Thanks for visiting. I welcome your comments.
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