I’ve been rummaging through my heart lately and stumbled upon this beautiful treasure I once knew called, Simple.
When I was a child I knew it well. I took Simple with me just about everywhere I went. Its presence became like second nature…a part of me. But even then, there lurked a liar who whispered into my ears; telling me that Simple was NOT the treasure it seemed, and definitely NOT beautiful. He told me to look around at what others had that I didn’t. He told me that what I had wasn’t good enough, or just not enough. He told me that I was without and lacking; that having Simple meant I was missing out. He told me I needed more.
Those lies took root in my heart and began growing like thistle in an un-kept field; fast and furious. The older I became, I carried Simple with me less and less. I brought it along only when Necessity gave me no other choice, and thus, the joy and beauty of Simple slowly slipped out of sight. And yet the Liar came even in necessity, telling me that having only what was necessary was dreadful and plain.
So I set aside Simple, and replaced it with More. I placed More on display, polished it often, and cherished it much. It made me feel important; more important than others, and on even turf with those who seemed more important than me when Simple was around. But every time I carried it with me, it became so heavy and cumbersome that I would have to put it down again and rest my weary soul. And every time I picked it up, thereafter, it seemed even more heavy than the time before. I was burdened, which seemed odd because More was advertised as the most contented thing to possess.
Meanwhile, Simple rested in a dusty overgrown corner…hidden by ugly lies from the past. Every now and again I’d catch a little glimpse, but the luster was gone, and I soon lost interest; easily distracted by much more glittery things.
It wasn’t until a little boy and a little girl came bursting through the door to my heart that I began to see Simple for what it once was; a treasure. They found it, hiding there; underneath the cobwebs and weeds. It was probably all the dancing and running and playing that cleared the clutter and revealed Simple in its former glory.
They picked it up, and handed it to me. I took it and recalled quickly how light and easy it was to carry with me. It gleamed and reflected the Son’s rays. It was warm and familiar; like home, and I felt felicity and wonder beyond words. How could I have forgotten?
Sometimes I still forget to pick it up; with all my hurried busyness. But the boy and the girl, they remind me. They point to Simple with every curious delight. And I place it back in its treasured place, where its beauty can shine and my heart can soar, and my spirit is free.
When I was a child I knew it well. I took Simple with me just about everywhere I went. Its presence became like second nature…a part of me. But even then, there lurked a liar who whispered into my ears; telling me that Simple was NOT the treasure it seemed, and definitely NOT beautiful. He told me to look around at what others had that I didn’t. He told me that what I had wasn’t good enough, or just not enough. He told me that I was without and lacking; that having Simple meant I was missing out. He told me I needed more.
Those lies took root in my heart and began growing like thistle in an un-kept field; fast and furious. The older I became, I carried Simple with me less and less. I brought it along only when Necessity gave me no other choice, and thus, the joy and beauty of Simple slowly slipped out of sight. And yet the Liar came even in necessity, telling me that having only what was necessary was dreadful and plain.
So I set aside Simple, and replaced it with More. I placed More on display, polished it often, and cherished it much. It made me feel important; more important than others, and on even turf with those who seemed more important than me when Simple was around. But every time I carried it with me, it became so heavy and cumbersome that I would have to put it down again and rest my weary soul. And every time I picked it up, thereafter, it seemed even more heavy than the time before. I was burdened, which seemed odd because More was advertised as the most contented thing to possess.
Meanwhile, Simple rested in a dusty overgrown corner…hidden by ugly lies from the past. Every now and again I’d catch a little glimpse, but the luster was gone, and I soon lost interest; easily distracted by much more glittery things.
It wasn’t until a little boy and a little girl came bursting through the door to my heart that I began to see Simple for what it once was; a treasure. They found it, hiding there; underneath the cobwebs and weeds. It was probably all the dancing and running and playing that cleared the clutter and revealed Simple in its former glory.
They picked it up, and handed it to me. I took it and recalled quickly how light and easy it was to carry with me. It gleamed and reflected the Son’s rays. It was warm and familiar; like home, and I felt felicity and wonder beyond words. How could I have forgotten?
Sometimes I still forget to pick it up; with all my hurried busyness. But the boy and the girl, they remind me. They point to Simple with every curious delight. And I place it back in its treasured place, where its beauty can shine and my heart can soar, and my spirit is free.
