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 few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”
A good student. A good sister and friend. A good daughter. A good employee. A good listener. A good advice-giver.
All of these identities are (obviously) good. I strive to be each one of them. However, my ultimate identity is a daughter of God.
It's about midway through the semester, and yet again I have found myself sleep-deprived and focused on the long list of things I'm responsible for.
Sleeping awake, dreaming awake, sleepwalking. Whatever you want to call it, that's what I feel like I've been doing these past few weeks. I have not been fully present. In a community of driven, excellent people, it is easy to get lost in our agendas. And these agendas don't typically have "rest" written all over them.
After reading the above passage in Luke the other day, I was reminded of Jesus' truth and feeling pretty convicted. I realized I have been a Martha lately. Shortly after, at a meeting, one of the speakers mentioned, "You can't prioritize people and practice empathy when you're running on empty."
Even good things can be bad when they become too much for us to handle. Getting good grades has definitely been the "good gone wrong" for me right now. I lost too much sleep and spent too much time away from people to work on one paper, and my body paid for it with anxiety, exhaustion, and a consistently foggy mind.
And I ended up not even finishing the paper. A friend spoke tough love to me and reminded me that I am more than my accomplishments, and so are you. Sometimes it is impossible to finish everything we are responsible for doing, but it's okay. That doesn't mean the results won't be disappointing from taking a break or choosing to neglect an assignment, but you can be confident in the fact that you are still you. And you are loved just the same.
Jesus loved you at your darkest moment.
Don't lose that truth in your striving to be light.
If for one second you think you are loved simply for your productivity, think again. A way to test your mindset in this area is by taking a few hours to just sit and rest. Do you feel guilty? Worthless? Are you worried you are disappointing someone? If so, do something about it. Talk to a family member or friend. Talk to God. Learn from Mary's example and listen to what is true.