Simple

Maybe I was born in the wrong time period.

It was the fourth day of our drive from Michigan to Arizona when we headed west out of Albuquerque. New Mexico loomed before us, vast and flat. In my mind's eye, I could picture the cowboys of old, mounted on horseback as they drove their masses of cattle from one spot to another. It was almost as if our van was a time machine, taking us back into the Old West.

I've always thought cowboys were fascinating. It probably has something to do with my dad being the ultimate Roy Rogers fan, collecting cap-guns and leather holsters, and making sure the great westerns were part of our movie library.

For a long time, my life's dream was to own a ranch in Montana. I love the strength and beauty of horses. But I think it's much more than that. I think it's the idea of a simpler life that appeals to me.

I don't mean simple as in easy, no effort required. I mean simple as in less complicated, slower paced.

One of my favorite Christian fiction authors is Lauraine Snelling, and I've been reading her latest book in a series she has written about a place called Blessing, North Dakota. The time period spans from the late 1800's to the early 1900's, and the books detail the lives of a family who has come to America from Norway.

Undoubtedly, life was not easy for them. At times they had to fight just to stay alive. They labored long hours working in the fields and caring for their farm animals. They didn't have modern conveniences like indoor plumbing or adequate medical care.

But life for them was a whole lot less complicated. There was a sense of community and genuine caring for each other. Everyone went to church together, and when they weren't working, they shared meals, went on fishing expeditions, swam in the river, played baseball, or held barn dances together. When someone was in need, everyone rallied around them to help. When someone had a reason to celebrate, everyone joined in the celebration. It was just a natural part of their life in Blessing.

And no one's dinner was ever interrupted by a cell phone.

I said something about this to Lars as we drove. "They worked hard," he said, "but I bet they were a lot happier."

Hmm. I bet so, too.

Modern conveniences and technology have taken the hard physical labor out of our lives. We sit at our computers and spend our evenings in front of the television. Sure, there are things I wouldn't want to live without: my dishwasher, washer and dryer, heat and electricity, a bathroom that's inside the house...

Still, there's something so appealing about life all those years ago. It's the personal connection. The enjoyment of life. The common faith that held the community together when tragedy struck.

That's what I want in life. I want to be a hardworking, happy woman surrounded by people I love. It's that simple.