Okay, my name isn’t actually Martha.. But, really, it might as well be. The story is Luke 10:38-42, and it centers around Christ entering the home of two of His friends, Mary and Martha. Martha is all a flutter because, hello, that’s her Lord, and she is determined to try to make everything worthy of Jesus (as if that's even remotely possible). So, while she’s running around making preparations and cleaning and paying far more attention to the task at hand than the Lord in her midst, her sister, Mary, is sitting at His feet. And Martha is pissed. I mean, who could blame her? Here she is with anxiety to the nines, while her sister just sits there at Christ’s feet. And Martha asks Him to make Mary help, and I can just imagine that sad smile on His face when He says, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed.. indeed only one.” While Martha is stressing and anxious, Mary is content at the feet of the Lord. Mary obviously has the better end of this deal, but there is no doubt in my mind that in this scenario, I am Martha.
I am really really good at doing things. Like, yeah, I’ll help with that event, and I’ll work with this group and sure whatever you need! Not to mention, when it comes to my life, I’ll work it all out. I’ve got it covered. I like to pretend that I don’t actually need God to do anything. You know, I’m glad He’s there on the back burner if my own plans fall through, but He is not my first choice for playmaker. I’ll do it. I can handle it. Right? Wrong. I worry about everything. I run around trying to make all the pieces of my life fit, which is funny when I’m ignoring the glue. I don’t want to just sit at His feet. I don’t want to rest in Him. I want to handle my life and then give it to Him, once it's all worked out exactly how I want it.
It’s hard. I try to give Him my life, sometimes, kind of, but definitely not all at once. Here, Lord, take my relationship, because I know how to live without it. Here, Lord, take the next year of my life, because if I don’t like Your direction there’s still time for me to change it. Here, Lord, take my problems and my sin, but leave my gifts and my aspirations alone. Take the broken parts of me, Lord, take what I don’t want, but leave me the parts I’m proud of. Leave the parts of me that I like to take credit for alone. I am Martha and I would rather work all day than spend an hour asking the Lord what He wants from me, because let's be real, it’s probably not what I have going on in my life right now. I would rather spend my day serving the Lord in the way that is convenient and fitting for me, than sit at His feet and listen to Him. Because every time I try to do that, He wrecks me.
The story of Mary and Martha is beautiful because it reminds me that there is nothing that I can do to become worthy of God. I cannot clean my house and make it clean enough to warrant His praise, nor can I clean my life and make it clean enough to warrant His grace. But right here all He is asking is for me to sit with Him, listen to Him, and trust Him. Somehow, Mary figured out what was more important, but more than that, she figured out how to act on it. I know what is more important. I'm aware of the truth in this Gospel. It's not a question of ignorance, it's a question of willingness. Martha and I have a tendency to try to do enough to feel worthy of the love He pours over us, to make us feel better we fill our lives with stuff that we can show at the gates of Heaven and say “look how much we’ve done.” Unfortunately, and I suppose I can’t actually speak for Martha here, but I’ve never really bothered to sit and ask Him what He wants me to do. I just sort of shoot from the hip and do what fits nicely into my life and hope He can work with it, rather than letting Him lead.
P.S. Audrey Assad has a stellar song that pretty much sums up my emotions about this, check it out:
