I think I am a Martha………..
As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”
“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:38-42 NIV
Just coming off a long stretch of exhausting “other work”, I have neglected writing. I am upset with myself about that. Trying to get away from whining about tiredness and too much to do and other excuses has led me to think about my life and what is really important to me.
I can relate very strongly to Jesus’ friend, Martha, while wishing that I were more like Mary. Mary had the gift of instinctively knowing the priority of the moment. She didn’t care if the house was clean, the beds freshly made, and an impressive meal in progress. She cared about Jesus, being still beside him, drinking in his words, dwelling in his presence.
I fall in and out of the trap of neglecting early morning quiet time with the Lord on too many sleepy mornings. I have let my physical complaints and “want-to-do’s” and my “need-to-do’s” take priority. The most telling clue to my true “Martha” status is my OCD nature about household chores. No, I am not as obsessively “clean” as I was in my youth, but the dishes have to be done, and I cannot go to bed without picking up the “lived in” clutter of a room. And I can all too often descend into the distracted and complaining mode that Martha exhibited. I, too, can be “worried and upset about many things.”
What’s the answer? I’m evaluating the way I do my devotional time. I’m eating healthier. Now, if I could only fit in exercise (my excuse is the six to eight thousand steps I make a day at work). There are only 24 hours in a day, seven days in a week, and weekends fly in fast-forward fashion. It’s all about baby steps, I think. Small changes, taking one day at a time, and reminding myself each morning that Mary knew and took advantage of what was important in life. Maybe, as I remind myself, I will do better at doing the same.
I thank you, my readers. Writing is my release and helps me assess and analyze and, hopefully, adapt to life’s challenges. I wish the same for you.