Some time ago Star In-Tech carried an article entitled, ‘Just say no to gadgets and gizmos.’ The article mentioned Nicols Fox, author of ‘Against the Machine: the Hidden Luddite Tradition.’ Nicols discovered pleasure in simple things. She enjoyed a curious satisfaction out of grinding coffee beans by hand. When she dried her clothes on a line, she became conscious of the sun and the wind, and she heard the birds sing. It was therapeutic.
The mega sales lure us to buy more ‘at cheaper prices’. We are cajoled relentlessly to add new commitments to our already strained timetables. Richard Foster defines simplicity as ‘an inward reality that results in an outward lifestyle’. As I reflect on this I am prompted to sketch portraits of men and women who, in different ways, modeled simplicity. They have left imprints in my life.
Simplicity in a High Calling
My father was killed in an accident. The legacy he left us was his choice of simplicity that enabled him to live a focused life as a ‘single parent’. Father was widowed at 35 and was left with two children aged six and two. He never remarried although he was encouraged to do so. He put in all his energies to earn a living and see us grow up. Our love for books and the theatre came from him. He was not very well educated but he decided to let me attend college and was willing to meet the protests from his relatives.
Once I asked him why he never remarried. He replied, ‘I promised your mother to love and care for you both. I do not want to add complications to my life. A new wife will constantly put me in a dilemma.’ The way I see it, Father deliberately eliminated distractions and probable complications – to fulfil his commitment to care for my brother and me. I must have hurt him deeply with my decision to join the Discipleship Training Centre in Singapore for my theological training. His dream to see me take over his business, get married and give him grandchildren vanished.
But God used that pain and hurt to bring about his conversion. When the church had its building project, my father served in the area he knew best. He not only provided the window panes and all the glass panels, he also lovingly fitted them one by one with his own hands. Every time I am back home sitting with the congregation, I feel my father’s presence.
I shall always remember Father as a man for whom simplicity and commitment intertwined to bring forth a focused life.
Simplicity and Commitment
I have yet another sketch in this category. During my time at the Discipleship training Centre, Singapore, we had a visiting lady writer from Hongkong. She took the room next to mine. There was a door separating our rooms. Night after night I noticed that her light was still on, even into the early morning hours.
What was she doing? The purpose for her visit was supposed to be for rest and recuperation after treatment for cancer. A heart to heart talk revealed her philosophy of life: focus and commitment born out of a simplicity of life’s goals.
She felt her life was like a half-burnt candle. Two options confronted her. She could be thrifty with her candle and maybe she could let it last a little longer. But it would still burn out in the end. Or she could set that candle to deliberate, purposeful use in the time that was left. Her dedication produced the New Testament in Han Yu Pin Yin. When she passed away she left behind few possessions, but plenty of hearts committed to the cause of the Kingdom. Her example got me through the difficult times spent in the revision of the Alkitab with the Malaysian Bible Society.
Like Father, this dear woman taught me the wisdom of deliberate choices that will bring forth simplicity and clarity in the setting of life goals.
Simplicity and Faith
My maternal grandmother became a widow before she was 30. Single handedly she raised her three children. Her son died as a teenager. Her two daughters (my mother and my aunt) died within three months of each other. That was how she came to stay with us and helped Father care for us.
As children, we enjoyed her many tales that included an incident when a thief thrust his hand through a bamboo wall and she wounded it with a chopper! In the kitchen she was a wizard at whipping up dishes. Every Chinese New Year I am nostalgic just thinking of the 12 types of dishes she could cook with bamboo shoots!
When Grandmother advanced in years, she began to muse about death. What would happen to her in the afterlife? Could she depend on us, her grandchildren, to send her food, paper money and other necessities? Strangely, by the marvelous grace of God, she also had the insight that she would not need all these things in the afterlife if she were a Christian. She sought the help of a bachelor who lived in the neighbourhood. She knew he went to church every Sunday. The young man brought her to see his pastor and thus my grandmother became the first Christian in our household.
I marvel at her simple, uncomplicated, childlike decision to believe in Jesus. In Jesus’ words she was like one of the little children who belong belongs to the Kingdom of God. It took me years of struggle before I finally made the plunge into the life of faith.
Simplicity and Possessions
The other day a friend invited me to a demonstration of a machine that could juice fruit with its pulp, seeds and all into a smoothie. The price was within the four-figure bracket, but most importantly I asked myself the questions, ‘Do I really need it? How often would I use it?’ I was glad I turned down the invitation because I would like to learn to be mindful of Richard Foster’s suggestion that we learn ‘de-cumulation.’ There is a need to learn the art of ‘being detached’ which will enable us to exercise compassionate living.
At the Discipleship Training Centre I had a roommate who came form Hongkong. This was her first time living in Singapore. The tropical weather fascinated her. She concluded that living in the this part of the world one could do with only three sets of clothing: one to wear, one to be in the wash and one just in case.
She became a missionary in Indonesia. True to her conviction to travel light and live simply, she brought only two sets of plates and cutlery. But the flow of people coming in and out of her house soon necessitated modification. Nevertheless she aspired to live a simple life.
In his mid twenties the great painter, Vincent van Gogh, experienced an awakening of a religious zeal. He gave away all his worldly goods and ministered as a lay preacher among the poor miners in a district in Belgium. Some time later he went through a spiritual crisis. He realized that art was his vocation and that through it he could glorify God by bringing comfort to fellow men.
Not all of us are called to ‘voluntary poverty’ but we ought to nurture its spirit so that there will always be resources for God’s Kingdom. For where our heart is, there is our treasure.
The above mosaic gives us some insight into the hearts of those who yearned to please their Creator. They rejoiced in the richness of His gifts and gave their best to live responsibly and simply in His presence. Living simply is not observing a set of rules. It is a gift from God to those whose hearts have been renovated.
The writer is a homemaker. She lives in Kuala Lumpur with her husband and two daughters. |
