Some years ago, on a backpacking trip with a friend, I learned about the value of water. We were in the wilderness, our supply was running low, and the only water available was inaccessible because the sides of the hills running down to the swiftly flowing river were too steep.

The grandeur of our surroundings made it easy to think of God and of how He cares for His whole creation—from ladybugs to red squirrels. We both were convinced that we were also under His direction, and we were praying to follow whatever guidance we received. Our water held out until lunchtime a day later, and that "just happened" to be the moment when we came across a small, flowing stream.

Coincidence? We didn't think so. We felt so close to divine Love, as we walked along and prayed, that we felt certain we were being guided to what we needed. This experience and others we had on that trip helped me see that real simplicity is something more than "not having a lot of things." It's a way of looking at life. On that trip we learned that when we looked to God and were obedient to Him, we had everything we needed. Even when we were back in "civilization," I found that having ready access to water, not to mention soft drinks, juice, milk, and other liquids, didn't have the same meaning for me.

Somehow, that moment of holiness—of feeling God's specific care meeting a particular need—helped me realize that no matter what circumstance I might face, God would always be there. I didn't need to stockpile good, because I would always be inseparable from the One who gives all good.

What I had learned was really a very old lesson, one that Christ Jesus conveyed eloquently in his Sermon on the Mount. He said: "Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?" (Matt. 6:25) He went on to point out that the birds have food, even though they don't plant seeds or put it in storehouses; that flowers are beautifully "clothed," even though they don't produce goods. He promised that all our needs would be met under this condition: "Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you" (Matt. 6:33).

What does this involve? The short answer is that seeking God's kingdom means directing one's whole life toward good—not the accumulation of material benefits, but the knowledge and love of divine Spirit and the recognition that we are spiritual because we are actually made in Spirit's likeness. Since our nature is spiritual, we find true happiness when we are pursuing spiritual, rather than material, goals.

At first that might seem like an abstract idea, but it isn't really. Spiritual goals put us in right relation to God and also to our fellow men and women. They require us to love one another and to be motivated by love rather than personal will. Science and Health, a book I read along with the Bible, states: "Dost thou 'love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind'? This command includes much, even the surrender of all merely material sensation, affection, and worship. This is the El Dorado of Christianity" (p. 9).

By framing our desires according to this outlook, we reach "El Dorado"—a city of riches beyond imagining. These are not necessarily material riches, but rather a fuller understanding of who we are and of who our fellow beings really are. Instead of our being dragged into the complications endemic to mortal existence with its hurts, confusions, and rivalries, a spiritual sense of life simplifies our relationships. It shows us that all of us are ideas of God, divine Love, and that as we diligently express this love, harmony prevails.

Giving up materialism for spiritual living is not to say that having beauty and comfort is evil. Rather, we need to be willing to give up goals whose only purpose is the accumulation of more material things—fame, pride, wealth for its own sake, personal power, to mention a few. For some people, this may involve a radical change of job, housing, and outlook. For everyone, the result will be a redeemed life—one where love replaces personal ambition and rivalry, where patience, honesty, and strength wipe out all traces of their opposites.

As such changes come about, the transitional state may not always be pleasant. In fact, there can be severe turmoil. This is the moment when the conflict between the spiritual and the material seems most real and challenging. Yet if one is able to persist in one's quest for a higher understanding of life—even to know God as one's Life—peace and confidence in God's love become more and more natural. And our knowledge of God leads us to whatever good we need.

Sometimes that leading involves healing. One night I was in west Texas in the United States with more than a hundred miles to drive before I could find shelter. I had gone into the desert to find peace after an experience that had been painful and confusing. I had also become terribly ill—so ill, I felt I couldn't pray. From a gas station that was closing, I called a fellow Christian Scientist, told her of the long drive ahead, and asked her to pray with me. She agreed to and then added, "We go in the strength of the Lord."

As I drove through the night amid jackrabbits and moonlight, I clung to that statement. Once or twice I had to stop, as I felt physically unable to continue. Yet the certainty that I was not alone and that my journey was under God's care sustained me. By the time I got to a town with accommodations, I was definitely on the mend. And interestingly enough, I got the last room available at what seemed like the only motel in that place. In the morning, I was not only physically well, but I was also beginning to understand more clearly that God's love had always been present with me and that I could never be cut off from Him.

Whether your journey is an actual physical one or is a spiritual quest, the love of God is ever present to guide you. As God and His love become more central to your life—and your spiritual quest—complications will begin to drop away. It will become easier to cut through the fog, the noise, or the personal fears and opinions that sometimes make decisionmaking seem impossible. A growing confidence in what Love actually is, and the knowledge that Love sends only good, never evil, will sustain you.

There is a simplicity to spirituality, whether it involves a need for water in the wilderness or safe travel through the night. This simplicity comes through trust in God, who is Love and who is always with us.