I learned years ago to write simple declarative sentences. Now I am going the next step: simple declarative thoughts.

My mind is naturally drawn to the complex and dialectical. So is reality. Few things are as simple as they could be stated. Reality, however, is more like the formula Jesus used: "You have heard it said, but I say to you. ..."

These "but" clauses aren't equivocations. They describe the nature of things. People and situations are generally more complex than they seem. By allowing room for "but" --- "She is a fine person, but her attitude frustrates me" --- we honor the complexity.

Yet sometimes you just need to say the simple words. "I love you." Or, "God is good." "God is love." "God forgives." Such statements can describe reality at a depth that truly engages our behavior.

This need for clarity came into focus last weekend, as I began a new writing project: 40-word pieces intended for daily inspiration. My first efforts were awkward. Too long, too complex, too much steeped in the "but" and "or" of dialectic. I had to focus, strip away the over-thinking. Like writers in the era since magazines stopped paying by the word and began to reward brevity and clarity, I had to achieve extreme economy of language and thought.

For examples of the genre, I consulted the book of Proverbs. I found gems of clarity. "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." "Wisdom cries out in the street." "Do not plan harm against your neighbor."

For statements that expressed my own faith, I had to dig deep. I wrote, "Love proves that God exists." Also, "Faith relishes the truth and is crippled by lies." More can be said; often, more needs to be said. Inspiration can't stop at the one-liner, at the "sound bite" much loved by political candidates, or at pretty aphorisms.

I just know that probing and thoughtfulness must go deep enough to be owned and stated. It has taken me a lifetime, for example, to learn this truth: "Love proves that God exists."

The simple and declarative open doors. When a visitor tries church, for example, they tend to ask basic questions: "Do I feel welcome here?" "Am I safe here?" "Is God being spoken here?"

No matter how many layers of complexity and spinning our candidates deploy in search of an edge, the depth of voters' concern tends toward a few simple questions. "Does this person seem smart enough and wise enough to govern effectively in a complex and dangerous world?" "Can he or she be trusted?" "Will they surround themselves with capable and honest people?"

An in-depth study of the cascading financial crisis leads to similar questions: "Did they behave honorably?" "Can they be trusted tomorrow?" "Are they competent?"

Those questions can be answered Yes or No. It is Yes or No that guide our behavior. Advertisers try to create an artificial Yes, based on appetite, and politicians press appeals based on fear and prejudice.

Those blind alleys are different from the Yes or No that springs from deep thought. Authentic simplicity takes effort.

A true "October Surprise" in this pivotal election year would be for us all to sit quietly, think deeply, and make decisions grounded in our deepest convictions and yearnings.

Tom Ehrich is a writer, church consultant and Episcopal priest based in New York. He is the author of "Just Wondering, Jesus," and the founder of the Church Wellness Project, www.churchwellness.com. His Web site is www.morningwalkmedia.com.