This love of God is offensive and outrageous. I know I would never treat someone like that.
Your scent smothers mein a wet blanket of carcinogens.
Your image I would never imitate. I avoid it with intention.
Your sounds are serrated blades my ears can hardly stand to hear.
Your touch is trite at best after years have trampled the desire.
It all tastes like resentment.
Simplicity is not poverty, and it is not simple. In fact simplicity requires considerable thought as you sort through various things to determine which resources can be limited in order to actually rely on God. But another significant aspect of simplicity is the intentional celebration of life; enjoying the good (and often overlooked) things of life.
I have been reading through a reader called "Praying with Francis of Assisi" by Joseph Stoutzenberger, and there is a chapter about simplicity. Stoutzenberger writes an exercise I chose to take hold of while I sat in a Charlotte coffee shop with my buddy Justin Wallace as he prepared to speak for his group of college students that evening.
Pour a glass of your favorite beverage, or slice up a piece of your favorite fruit, cheese, cake, pie, or bread. Set the glass or plate in front of you. Reflect on the wonder of drink and food, their color, texture, and composition from earth to their present state.
Next, savor the smell of the beverage or food. Finally, take one sip or bite, roll the drink around your tongue or chew the food slowly. Closing your eyes may help to get the full effect.
Finish drinking the beverage or eating the food very slowly, pausing between each sip or bite.
End this action by praising God for His simple wonder.