The Beauty of the Simple - Five Poems (Part 4)

An old maxim, frequently applied to a variety of disciplines and activities, goes by the acronym, KISS: Keep It Simple, Stupid.

Sounds a little “simplistic”, since, as we all know, life can be pretty complex, unpredictable, and difficult to corral. We need sophisticated planning tools, apps to direct our way and remind us of where we are, alarms on our watches to keep us on schedule, and all sorts of utensils, tools, meetings and thingamabobs to help us get through the challenges of stayin’ alive. Let any of these fail or falter, and we begin to feel our lives unravelling like the world as Yeats saw it: “Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold…”

But in the midst of all that complexity and creeping chaos, life really is pretty simple. For the Christian, in fact, life comes down to one word: Christ. Paul said it well: “For me to live is Christ” (Phil. 1.21). How complex can that be?

Yet Paul warned the Corinthians about following their wandering affections rather than focusing their souls on Jesus: “But I fear, lest somehow, as the serpent deceived Eve by his craftiness, so your minds may be corrupted from the simplicity that is in Christ” (2 Cor. 11.3).

And if there is simplicity in Christ, then simple things—everyday things, things that are so common they go unnoticed—can maybe tell us a thing or two about Christ and what it means to know, love, and serve Him. Or remind us that we’re all creatures. Or refocus our minds on the things that are above, where Christ is, seated in glory (Col. 3.1-3).

Emily Dickinson’s verse does this. Or can do it, if we’ll take the time to read it. Dickinson seldom went out. Her home, garden, and family were her world. But her poetry shows us how to let this world speak to us about the simplicity that is life in Jesus.

Here’s one of my favorites. It’s entitled “Simplicity” in some anthologies, but Dickinson seldom titled her verse, and she probably would have found this title distracting. It’s not the thing she wanted to embed in our minds. Here’s the poem:

How happy is the little Stone

That rambles in the Road alone,

And doesn't care about Careers

And Exigencies never fears—

Whose Coat of elemental Brown

A passing Universe put on,

And independent as the Sun

Associates or glows alone,

Fulfilling absolute Decree

In casual simplicity—

Even a little stone can remind us of the vast scope, great diversity, simple happiness, and glowing uniqueness that characterizes everything God has made. God is sovereign. He has made the world and everything in it. He has set everything in its place and He keeps everything right where He wants it, precisely as He ordained before the cosmos began. Even a little stone, simple as it may be, has a place in God’s plan, according His decrees.

This is an easy poem to memorize and recite—especially if you happen to have a little stone handy to hold in your hand or turn ‘round with your fingers while you recite it. There is divine purpose in all the small stuff of life. And not just purpose, but beauty, a beauty which can enable us to participate—if only for a fleeting moment—in the whole vast cosmos, of which each little stone is a part. There is beauty in the shape, the color, the feel, and even the context of the stone. All these contribute a lesson on beauty that can rival any of the old masters of art.

And that can lead us to a moment of wonder, silence, contemplation, and praise. God has made everything to praise and honor Him, as Psalm 148 explains. And we can enter into the uniqueness of even the smallest things, to know how each of them can praise our God and King and to join them as they do.

Life in Christ is as simple as a little stone: Rejoice in what God has made you to be. Soak up His Son and His Word. Associate with those who do, and together, know the strength and joy of true fellowship. Shine as brightly as you can each day with all the elements and strength God has invested in you, in all the words and deeds that show His grace to others.

You’ll be as happy as a little stone if you do.