The Simple Life

Even though I should be somewhat hesitant to mention this (I told an English teacher colleague yesterday, and he about laughed himself silly), I have spent the summer re-reading the Little House series - yep, the children's books by Laura Ingalls Wilder about her experiences as a pioneer. The last time I read these books, I was a 2nd or 3rd grader in elementary school. I can't exactly tell you what the impetus for my decision was, but I have spent my summer savoring the pages.

I use the word, "savor," because another friend couldn't believe that it has taken me all summer to get through the series. After all, they are easy-reading children's books, and since I am a fairly speedy reader, there is no reason why I should not have had these books done by the 4th of July. However, "savoring" is what I do best.

In college, in order to break the monotony of studying, a good friend and I would often scrounge up change in order to raid the vending machine, by purchasing two Reese's Peanut Butter Cups (a favorite for each of us). My friend's method of eating it was "down the hatch," but I could make my peanut butter cups last a ridiculously long time. First, I would pick off all the chocolate ridges around the edges, then I picked off all the chocolate on the tops and bottoms, and then, I would finally eat the peanut butter part. I know how to make a good thing last.

Naturally, when anyone re-reads books (and I typically do not), s/he tends to pick out details and ideas that s/he missed the first time around.  This was especially true for me since I was reading the Little House series as a 40 something vs. an 8 year old. For example, as a kid, my least favorite book in the series was Farmer Boy, the account of Almanzo's formative years in New York state. As a kid, I was bored to tears with all the description of farming, food preparation, and animal husbandry. However, this time around, this was one of the books in the series that I enjoyed most.

One of the most refreshing aspects of the series is the simplicity of it all. When I read the account of Laura and Almanzo's marriage, I was struck by the lack of fanfare and "hoo-hah." After "courting" for three years (and Laura never even calls it that; she refers to it as "Sunday afternoon horse rides"),they ended up getting married in the middle of the week in the pastor's house because they wanted to avoid Eliza's (Almanzo's sister) and his mother's attempts to turn it into a complicated, expensive event. Laura got married in a black dress, mostly because it was her newest dress, they went back to the Ingalls farm to have a simple wedding supper with Pa, Ma, and the girls, and then, they went home and did chores. There was no saying, "yes to the dress," no expensive venue, DJ, catered meal, floor decal, etc, etc, etc.

Most delightful of all was Laura's attitude about life. While she didn't enjoy farming as an occupation and begged Almanzo to get out of it, she loved farm life vs. town life. In the book, she addressed her lack of a social life by saying that she regarded her four-legged friends as more valuable than any on two legs. And like her Pa, she valued the open prairie - the vast, unsettled wildness of it all. In short, she conveyed the fact that she loved her life just as it was and did not wish for anything more or different (other than making a steady income and having no "notes" on the house or equipment).
While the pioneer life was harsh, hard, and often deadly, it seems far superior to the lives we lead today.

I realize that statement doesn't make a lot of sense, especially when I think about all the modern conveniences that make life tolerable - washing machines, flushing toilets, Internet shopping, cell phones. But I am still sticking to my original claim.

Since there was no Internet or computer or phones, for that matter, out on the prairie, Laura's world consisted of what was in front of her within a twenty mile radius. Often, when one was married and moved away (depending on how far s/he moved), the marriage ceremony could very well be the last time one saw his/her pa and ma as well as other relatives.

Likewise, since there was no way to get to one, much less see one other than in a book, Laura never had a desire to travel to the ocean. . .or see Europe. . .or do missionary work in a foreign country. She was completely contented with her life as it was and concerned herself with the life and people in her present circumstances. Period.

I suppose, then, it could be argued that it is a blessing to be living in such modern times.   Skype, email, texting, and Facebook help us to stay in contact with the people with whom we have traveled along life's path. Likewise, the Internet and air travel have shrunk our world considerably so that seeing an ocean, jungles, and even Big Ben is easily within the realm of possibility. Even though these are wonderful opportunities (and I'm not dissing them), I still think that, to a certain extent, Laura had us beat.

To explain, with all these opportunities come choice, which generally is a good thing, but choice can also lead to more confusion, or noise, as I like to call it.  Sure, if I don't like my current job, I can quit, fly across the world, and do something else if I want to. . .but what? There are so many possibilities to consider! What am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to go? What was I born to do?

The noise of choice often muddies the waters for us. Rather than seeking God's Will, choice sometimes makes it easier for us to ignore God's voice because, well, if we don't like things the way they are, we can choose a different route with little difficulty.  Choice can also mean walking away from circumstances that could have been specifically orchestrated by God as part of our spiritual growth.

As a pioneer woman, Laura didn't have the privilege of choice. Therefore, she had to rely on the circumstances God had placed her in, the people in her midst, and the values and skills she had been taught.

Lately, I have been reading a book about David, as in King David. While he is one of the most admired of Biblical characters, he certainly wasn't perfect and had to learn the hard way, just like all the rest of us. The point to be underscored is that David learned that he was miserable and made horrible decisions when he didn't have his ear tuned directly toward God. Through many trials and errors, David disciplined himself to put God first whenever a decision needed to be made. In essence, he eliminated the noise around him to do exactly what God required and wanted. It's not surprising that this was God's plan all along. Before God would allow David to replace Saul as king, God needed David to be trained correctly. At times, David was miserable, but he ultimately emerged as the person God wanted him to be.

Therefore, when the situation is carefully examined, it seems as though life today is more difficult than when pioneers such as Laura Ingalls Wilder lived. We are bombarded by choices, and rather than encourage us, we are discouraged and discontented. We see the banquet of careers, places to live, volunteer opportunities, hobbies. . .and worse, we have unlimited access to the choices and lives that others are creating/living, and we get overwhelmed and disappointed by our current state. We worry that life is short, that we've made the wrong choices, that other, better, bigger circumstances would make us happy and fulfilled. In short, the noise of choice can be so overwhelming that God's still, small voice gets swallowed up into the cacophony. We no longer hear it or seek it because based on what we have seen and the choices that the world has exposed us to, we think we know best.

In the 1970s, there was a cheesy phrase that people had hanging on fridges and walls: "Bloom Where You're Planted." Yet, these days, I often find myself muttering it when I get off track. I know that Laura would certainly approve of it, and while it probably wouldn't be flashy enough for David, I am pretty sure he would echo the sentiment. I am where I am at this moment in history for a reason. Rather than get sucked in by the circus of the world, my job is to "bloom," which, in the most basic definition, is to love others and use my gifts, right where I am. If and when the plan changes, God will let me know, but I have to make sure that I can hear Him. This means I have to be diligent about avoiding excessive, distracting noise.

Clearly, the simple life that Laura describes in her books has merit, and when we read about it, we long for it. However, the simple life is completely within our grasp. We don't have to travel 140 years back in time to achieve it. Through Laura's and David's examples, we learn that the simple life is a matter of attitude and a disciplined heart.