Simple

Think of how simple life could be. My desk is scattered with CD's, books, photos, pens, and a stack of papers from school and studies. Each item has a story and a link to my life in some way. How terrible to try and think of them all and organize them in my mind. I'd go nuts. Quickly. Perhaps I am too anal and controlling about my organization. If I'd loosen up, then it wouldn't matter so much. Obviously, the clutter really doesn't matter so much. It's still there.
In order to clean the desk, I'd have to find a place for everything. The CD's go in the CD rack. The book, well...It's been traveling with me, so it goes in the living room. The papers need to be separated into corresponding stacks and filed away. Then, there's so much of it that is really just garbage. It can be thrown away. After all of that is done, everything in its place, there is a sense of peace. Order for a while. Right. Next week when classes start it will go right back to the state it's in now, maybe even worse.
Imagine simple life could be. If we just stripped away all the nonsense. The decoration of our lives is useless. I'm not knocking art at all. I'm an artist myself. What I mean is that we have so much in our lives to complicate things. It's like the mixer instead of the spoon. Making cookies is easier with the mixer. But then you have to clean the beaters, which are much tougher to clean than the spoon. So we use the dishwasher. It requires special soap, more dishes and water. And either appliance could break down, costing repairs or replacement. Using the spoon actually takes longer, requires work. Strengthens you, and possibly helps you to appreciate the cookies more. And only one simple action required to clean the excess dough. Give it to your child, they'll gobble it up quickly.
I use an electric beater. As a matter of fact, I have a broken down dishwasher as well. It won't drain and I don't have the money to get someone to fix it. I digress, though. The more we attempt to achieve simplicity and convenience, the more complicated things get. Sometimes, I long for the days when men worked hard to feed their family, not to get the new truck. I long for simplicity. Nothing but the necessities. But then, where would I jot down my thoughts and rants? On paper. With a pen, no less. If the pen breaks, they aren't too expensive. Paper, the same. A computer...Well, you see the difference?
Simplicity. It also makes more room for God. For love. For people in our lives. For example, here I am typing away at something called a blog, while my wife is in bed alone. The television makes one silent to all others in the room. If they weren't around we'd just find something else to separate us, I'm sure.
Stripped down life. Simplicity. Honesty. Fresh air. Breath. No obesity. No smog. No cirrhosis. No lung cancer from cigarettes. No. No. No. It's always been such a negative word, but has produced much character in people like my grandpa and my dad. People who went without, people who sacrificed to make my life better.
Jesus. He asks his Father, "Is there some other way? Do I have to go through this? I submit to your will, but..."
The answer. "No."
Sacrifice. Simplicity. It adds up to character in the end. It makes more sense. It makes better people. Get them focused on Jesus and his good news, and the world might be a better place.