Being Martha
Earlier this week we read the story of Mary and Martha with the kids. I have to confess, I have never read it without walking away feeling convicted. Martha's words, with her many worries and complaints, always resonate deeply with me. I know, without a doubt, that I would have been Martha in that story. I'm not proud of the fact, but I know it to be true. I will always be tempted to defer to the to-do list, the task at hand. I will always need the reminder to stop and sit at Jesus' feet and stop fussing.
I expected to be impacted by this much-needed reminder as we read the words out loud with the kids, and to a certain extent I was. I've spent many days lately consumed by all of the things I had to do, all the tasks and worries and priorities. I've missed plenty of moments to sit at Jesus' feet, and plenty more to stop and actually spend time with those I love. I have been a Martha.
But that wasn't the part of the story that jumped off the page that particular morning. Instead it was these words, which I had always brushed past:
"... they came to a certain village where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home." (Luke 10:38)
Martha had not always "been a Martha." In fact, the decision to invite Jesus into the home at all had been hers. In other words, at the beginning of this story Martha's heart was in the right place. Her intentions were good. She got it right.
So what happened?
Martha was going to welcome the Son of God into her home, to provide him a meal, to listen to what he had to say. She set out on the right path. She had a good idea, a good goal. She took steps to move in the right direction. But somewhere between the point of decision and the actual completion of it, she lost sight of that goal. She became consumed with the specifics of its execution, the details and the tasks and the steps that would be necessary to host the Messiah. Everything became about how to do this thing she'd felt called to do, and not about what she'd been called to at all.
I can't help but think of Peter stepping out of the boat to walk on the water. In faith, he climbed over the side of the boat. He'd heard Jesus call his name, and he knew he could walk to him, meet him on the water. He set out, one foot in front of the other, treading effortlessly over the waves. He took steps in the right direction. And then he lost sight of the goal. He took his eyes off of Jesus' face. He became consumed with the sound of the wind, the movement of the waves. He looked at his feet, focused on how he would manage to keep them above the water to get to Jesus. He lost sight of the goal, and became consumed by the process.
How sobering.
How like me.
Martha's story is my story, and likely the story of most of us. That one little fragment of a sentence brought me that much closer to her. I think we would have been kindred spirits. How often--how painfully often--have I set out on the right path, only to be sidetracked by the specifics of the process? The intentions were good, the heart was right, the plans were worthwhile. But somewhere between inception and execution, I became consumed with the details. And the devil is in the details. Quite literally.
The reality is, we so often lose sight of our purpose because someone intends us to lose sight of it. I can't think of a better way for the enemy to curtail our efforts than this. That old expression, "the road to hell is paved with good intentions" rings with an element of truth. How easy it is for us to get wildly off track when we'd set out with exactly the right heart!
Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life. (Proverbs 4:23)
Guard your heart. Guard your intentions. Guard the process.
Perhaps the greater lesson in Martha's story--and Peter's, and mine--is not to work without complaint or sit at Jesus' feet instead of fussing in the kitchen. Perhaps the greatest lesson is to guard our intentions closely. To hold onto those things that we "get right" and to not allow ourselves to become distracted on our way to them. Perhaps it's to set our minds on the calling and not the steps to achieving it.
The Lord directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives. (Psalm 37:23)
It's not that the steps and the details aren't important. It's that they can't become the goal in themselves. When we focus on what God has called us to, when we trust him with all of it, he will lay out the steps. He will teach us how to walk on the water, he will help us provide the meal. But our task is to keep our focus on the goal, to keep ourselves from being distracted and consumed by anything else.
I expected to be impacted by this much-needed reminder as we read the words out loud with the kids, and to a certain extent I was. I've spent many days lately consumed by all of the things I had to do, all the tasks and worries and priorities. I've missed plenty of moments to sit at Jesus' feet, and plenty more to stop and actually spend time with those I love. I have been a Martha.
But that wasn't the part of the story that jumped off the page that particular morning. Instead it was these words, which I had always brushed past:
"... they came to a certain village where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home." (Luke 10:38)
Martha had not always "been a Martha." In fact, the decision to invite Jesus into the home at all had been hers. In other words, at the beginning of this story Martha's heart was in the right place. Her intentions were good. She got it right.
So what happened?
Martha was going to welcome the Son of God into her home, to provide him a meal, to listen to what he had to say. She set out on the right path. She had a good idea, a good goal. She took steps to move in the right direction. But somewhere between the point of decision and the actual completion of it, she lost sight of that goal. She became consumed with the specifics of its execution, the details and the tasks and the steps that would be necessary to host the Messiah. Everything became about how to do this thing she'd felt called to do, and not about what she'd been called to at all.
I can't help but think of Peter stepping out of the boat to walk on the water. In faith, he climbed over the side of the boat. He'd heard Jesus call his name, and he knew he could walk to him, meet him on the water. He set out, one foot in front of the other, treading effortlessly over the waves. He took steps in the right direction. And then he lost sight of the goal. He took his eyes off of Jesus' face. He became consumed with the sound of the wind, the movement of the waves. He looked at his feet, focused on how he would manage to keep them above the water to get to Jesus. He lost sight of the goal, and became consumed by the process.
How sobering.
How like me.
Martha's story is my story, and likely the story of most of us. That one little fragment of a sentence brought me that much closer to her. I think we would have been kindred spirits. How often--how painfully often--have I set out on the right path, only to be sidetracked by the specifics of the process? The intentions were good, the heart was right, the plans were worthwhile. But somewhere between inception and execution, I became consumed with the details. And the devil is in the details. Quite literally.
The reality is, we so often lose sight of our purpose because someone intends us to lose sight of it. I can't think of a better way for the enemy to curtail our efforts than this. That old expression, "the road to hell is paved with good intentions" rings with an element of truth. How easy it is for us to get wildly off track when we'd set out with exactly the right heart!
Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life. (Proverbs 4:23)
Guard your heart. Guard your intentions. Guard the process.
Perhaps the greater lesson in Martha's story--and Peter's, and mine--is not to work without complaint or sit at Jesus' feet instead of fussing in the kitchen. Perhaps the greatest lesson is to guard our intentions closely. To hold onto those things that we "get right" and to not allow ourselves to become distracted on our way to them. Perhaps it's to set our minds on the calling and not the steps to achieving it.
The Lord directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives. (Psalm 37:23)
It's not that the steps and the details aren't important. It's that they can't become the goal in themselves. When we focus on what God has called us to, when we trust him with all of it, he will lay out the steps. He will teach us how to walk on the water, he will help us provide the meal. But our task is to keep our focus on the goal, to keep ourselves from being distracted and consumed by anything else.
