If I were to sit down and list all my faults, I certainly wouldn’t have to worry about writer’s block. And I definitely wouldn’t be concerned with running out of material. My culpabilities are many, but there is only one I want to discuss in this blog. I worry too much. Even though Jesus, Himself, tells us time and time again throughout the Gospels not to, I still do. I just can’t help myself. I rarely stumble upon a molehill that I don’t soon manufacture into my very own bothersome mountain.

One of the most relatable quotes when it comes to this affliction is from my all-time favorite author, Mark Twain. He said, “I’ve lived through some terrible things in my life, some of which actually happened.” If this doesn’t sum up my life in a nutshell, nothing does. I actually spend more time worrying about what can go wrong in my life than I do dealing with the situation on the occasional instance that something actually does go wrong in my life.

And I don’t spend time just worrying about what can go wrong in my life. No, no, no. That would be too easy. I then feel the obligatory need to worry about how to remedy the imaginary wrong in my life. And it’s never a simple fix. My fictional solution is usually much more complicated and time-consuming than my unreal problem. As ridiculous as this all sounds, I end up spending way too much time in my own imaginary prison. But these are problems that may happen. And I’ll need to come up with elaborate fixes to make them disappear.

We’ve all heard of the philosophy of KISS, right? No, I’m not talking about the dudes with the face paint that have been rocking for over forty years. I’m talking about the acronym KISS. Keep It Simple, Silly. I try to force this into my logic, but it’s like shoving a square peg into a round hole. The simple solution just can’t be the best, can it? And then I’m right back to worrying about my problem again.

It wasn’t until recently that I saw the concept of KISS played out right before my eyes. And my eyes were indeed opened from it. My buddy, Andy Hersey, is a local golf pro, from whom I buy all of my golf gear. He keeps promising I’m going to get better, but never puts it in writing. I’ve also known Andy since kindergarten and I had the distinguished honor of being his college roommate in the early nineties. So not only do I know Andy, but I trust him completely. (Basically, we have enough dirt on each other to sabotage any future political careers either one of us may have, but we don’t worry about them ever seeing the light of day).

A while back, I was deciding whether or not I wanted to buy a used hybrid golf club from Andy. We met at his house and he showed me the merchandise. The club was in terrific shape except for one big scratch right across the middle of the shiny black club head. Andy was giving me a good deal on the club, but I really didn’t like the idea of looking down and seeing that scratch (that I didn’t even have the honor of making) every time I swung the club.

I told Andy my reservations because of the blemish and he was unfazed. “That’s not a problem at all,” he said. “I can take care of the scratch for you so that you’ll never even know it’s there.” And then my imagination ran wild. “Great!” I thought. “He can take care of it, but it’s either going to cost me a lot of time or a lot of money!” I suddenly pictured Andy having to ship it back to the factory in which it was originally made to have the scratch professionally buffed out. I envisioned this being a very elaborate endeavor and not only would the club not be ready for a few months, but the procedure itself was sure to cost more than the actual club. Was all of this worth it?

Then Andy pulled out a black Sharpie from his pants pocket, took the club out of my hands, and drew a line over the scratch. Then he handed the club back to me. “There you go,” he said. “Good as new. You’ll never see the scratch.” And just like that I was pulled out of my imaginary world of pretend golf club procedures and realized for the first time in a long time, Keeping It Simple really works. I bought the club, never saw the scratch again, and believe it or not, the last time I swung this club, I won ‘Closest to the Pin’ in a local tournament.

I keep a black Sharpie on my desk these days to remind me of the lesson that Andy taught me. A simple solution usually can solve our problem. We live in such a fast-paced, complicated world that too many times, logic tells us different. That’s just not the case. The next time you’re faced with a dilemma, I challenge you to seek the simple solution first. You’ll be surprised how often you’ll save yourself time and energy.

And as far as worrying about problems themselves, I’ve made a conscious decision not to dwell on the ‘what-ifs’ in life. Yes, problems will occur. But looking back on my life, not as nearly as much as I’d thought. And guess what? Upon reflection, problems weren’t the only issues to appear in my life. Blessings emerged too. And much more often than the problems. So I decided that I would focus my energy toward future blessings rather than future problems. Shame on me for giving problems any more time than they require. This is my simple solution to a once, very time-consuming problem.

If you’re going through a tough time right now and are looking for a solution to your problems…Keep it simple. Remember the Sharpie!