The lines are pure and clean. Simple, gathered up quickly by the eyes; readily understood. I like the clean and the fresh and the gathered and the gardened. Rooms full of sweetness and clean white, where colors shine more crisply against their blanche canvas than they would were they drowning in the riddle of a thousand other colors. You leave it blank, leave it empty, so that what’s beautiful can be clearly seen as it is. You leave it plain because the plainness embraces the nuances you can’t see if the room is crowded with other things and colors and thoughts.

Let us examine our thoughts one at a time. Let us make room for the profoundness of a single sentence. And let us clear out our lives for the one, simple thing: the first thing.

There are rooms inside of us, like a whole universe of thoughts and feelings and memories and it’s so easy to fill it with ambitions and opinions and piqued emotion. But oh Jesus, how You deserve a mansion. You deserve the inner sanctuary – and what if I could clean it out with You so that these thousand lesser colors can no longer drown You out? (As if You could ever be drowned out.) Let us say that it is harder to settle on the nuances of Your light – to fix upon the little details about You that a busy eye can’t catch – when there is so much else inside of us to manage and so much else to see.

I think all that’s to say: I’m longing for simplicity.


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