Simply stated

Simple.

That’s pretty much me. I don’t mean simple minded, now. I don’t know anything about quantum physics, can’t tell you much about what the old philosophers thought back in the day and can’t even balance my checkbook to save my life, but none of those things are really that important to me.

Even though those who know and love me best sometimes declare that I am very high-maintenance, I don’t think I am at all.

I’m basically … well, simple.

I prefer my cheeseburgers plain although I will sometimes add the pickles, mustard and onion to the meal. I could be content with a whole wardrobe of khaki pants, denim slacks and red, pink or Carolina blue solid colored shirts. I sometimes wear shirts with stuff printed on it, but I truthfully don’t feel comfortable in them.

My shoes aren’t Prada by any means. I may have a few name brands in my closet at home, but that’s only cause Shoe Carnival deeply discounted ‘em. I go more for comfort than designer name.

There’s no polish on my fingernails when I allow them to grow. I’m picky about my hair even if I just really wash it on a daily basis and allow the blow dryer to determine which measure of messy it looks. I wouldn’t get a frequent pedicure even if someone paid for it. I hate for anyone to touch my feet much less look at them.

I’m simple.

I don’t own a diamond. Much of the jewelry I have carries more sentimental value than monetary value. The necklace I never remove was a gift from my best friend shortly after I came to know her. I sometimes wear the ring I bought my mother the first Christmas I had my first job. She returned it to me the last Sunday of her life, uttering how she had always been proud of me and how much she loved me shortly before slipping into a coma from which she never returned.

I have simple dreams, hopes and desires. Some of them – like the fire engine red Mustang GTO, the 70-300mm Canon zoom lens or Tag Heuer watch – could be a little more easily obtained than others. Although I attempt to keep my life simple and worry-free, I sometimes have to think during the loneliest moments that there really has to be more to life than this and believe that eventually my shot at happiness and complete contentment will come my way.

Simple goals, yeah, but honorable ones.

I didn’t become simple on my own, really. My parents had a simple belief system that if you worked hard and remained honest that you would be respected. They also thought that a good name was more important than vast riches and instilled that in me as a child. They believed every person had good within them, that it was up to us to find it sometimes. They truly judged people by the content of their character and not the color of their skin and sought friends from literally all walks of life. True friendship was measured by them not in what people could provide for them but how people could make their lives more enjoyable and, in some instances, simpler.

Growing up, my parents simply insisted that I attend church and went with me. They didn’t indoctrinate me with lots of religion, but wanted to make sure that, instead, I was filled with lots of God. They truly believed the Word and lived the Micah 6:8 principle of life by doing justly, loving kindness and walking humbly with God. Not ignoring the New Testament, my parents loved God with all their heart, soul and mind and truly loved their neighbor as themselves.

I simply want to carry out that legacy above anything else.

For years, I found myself trying to be the complex person I thought the world wanted me to be. And I attempted to do various things to get God’s attention in an effort to become one of His favorites.

Often, I’d find myself frustrated with my attempts. And I felt my simpleness made me so unworthy of His love.

Several years ago, I began to become a bit more comfortable in my own skin. It was at a weekend women’s retreat when I finally figured out that God could – no, DID – love someone as simple as me. And that I truly am one of his favorites, as simple as I am.

I was no longer ashamed to be simple or to possess little when measured against the wealth of this world. Because of my simple faith in Him, that no longer mattered.

Nope, I haven’t “arrived” yet, though. I still struggle with acceptance and worth. I’m still attempting to surround myself with others who can accept someone who is simple – who maybe are even simple themselves.

Simply stated, I am who I am and what I am because of Who created me. Like it or not, simple enough.