One Thing

Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching.  But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.”       Luke 10:38-42

I am such a Martha.

Seriously! Can anyone else relate?  I’ve heard messages about this passage my entire life and often wanted to raise my hand and say, “Hey…someone had to do all that stuff!” I mean, as soon as a guest arrived, the host washed their feet, proceeded to cook a meal, make sure there were others there to share the meal and prepared a safe and comfortable place for them to sleep.  Poor Martha. She didn’t have the option of running to Chic Fila for a platter of nuggets.  More than likely, she’d have to kill an animal, make bread from scratch, haul more water from the well and bring up wine from the cellar.  On top of all that, the women and servants were expected to do the work while the men would visit with the guest.

I can totally feel Martha’s frustration. Especially when I consider the fact that Mary was stretching the boundaries of their culture by seating in with the men.  Martha may have been thinking, “Jesus, she’s a woman and she’s suppose to be helping me.  This isn’t at all appropriate.” I’m not saying that’s what she was thinking, but it would be understandable in her case.

Who am I kidding? I can’t blame it on culture. I act the same way on a regular basis when my family watches Netflix while I cook dinner, clean the kitchen, fold the clothes and feed the animals.  I’m sure they would help if I asked but I just want someone to notice what I’m doing and help me.  It’s embarrassing how quickly the desire for acknowledgement and help can turn love and service into bitterness and anxiety.  Yep.  In that way, I am exactly like Martha.

(Sigh)

The sad truth is that Martha, like me, allowed anxiety to grab her heart as she was doing something good. She was serving Jesus! Whether anyone recognized her work or not, her service could have been a form of worship if her attitude had been right. But she lost focus of who and why she was serving and started focusing on what she had to do and what everyone else was not doing. Her “to do list” made her anxious and troubled about so many things and it became a weight that pulled her soul down into bitterness.

I feel like I’ve been carrying that weight around for a few weeks or so.  I’ve become aware of how quickly my list of responsibilities can turn into self-pity and anger but have been praying that I’ll be quick to speak up, ask for help and, in doing that, cut the weed of bitterness off at the roots. I’ve also noticed that the cares of this life have stirred up stress in my heart.  Our family and friends have a lot going on right now. Hardly an hour passes that I’m not reminded of something that I need to surrender or pray about. For the most part, I feel like I’m handling it all pretty well…until I’m not.  Until all of it piles up at once and I notice that I’m anxious and troubled and running to Jesus saying, “Why won’t you change some of this and help me?”

But, not all cares and concerns are bad.  Lately, some of my anxiety comes from my desire to hear God clearly.  I realize that may sound counterintuitive but, I desperately want to know what God is calling me to. To see what He wants me to write about. To feel like I’m getting some traction in this new stage of life.  To have the focus I need to consolidate all he’s taught me this past year into words of truth and encouragement that I can remember and share.

I’ve been reading and rereading journals. Writing and rewriting verses. Listening to everything I can get my hands on and pleading for direction.  Although I’m more desperate to be close to Jesus than I’ve ever been, that desperation has been hijacked by worry and anxiety over whether I’ll get it all right. Ironically, the desire for good things has warped into another source of worry that has snowballed, along with my responsibilities and concerns, until I realized yesterday that I was full of anxiety.

Like…to the rim full. Pressed down and overflowing, but not in a good “Luke 6:38″ way.

I knew I should turn to Jesus and lay it all down, but suddenly realized how hard it is to stop a huge snowball that’s already started an avalanche. An avalanche that felt like it was burying me beneath so much anxiety that I couldn’t breath. If I hadn’t been driving when it hit, I would have gone for a long hard run or pounded the punching bag for a while but the best I could do in the car was cry and pray.  A lot. Then Jesus simply said, “Karen, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but only one thing is necessary.”

Only one thing is necessary. The good portion.  That thing that can’t be taken away from me.

Him.

He is the one thing. Being with him and listening to his voice.  Sometimes to the silence. Not trying to force or grasp something but simply resting in his presence. Trusting him to carry me, to care for me and to faithfully lead me where I need to go.

All those responsibilities, worries, concerns, hopes, desires and dreams will be there when it’s time to deal with them but they won’t last forever.  What will last forever, and what will help me cope with all the rest,  is my relationship with Jesus.  My Jesus, the teacher that allowed Mary, a woman, to sit and learn from him.  My Jesus who wants me to learn from him. To know him.  To be used by him.  My Jesus who created me to do good works.  My Jesus who wants me to sit at his feet and learn how he loves and what he holds valuable.  My Jesus that chose me before the world was created KNOWING the failures I would have and the ways I would dishonor him but who chose me anyway and who loves me more than I can imagine.

My Jesus.

My one thing.

The good portion.

That can’t be taken away.

What a relief to let it all go and breath in my Jesus. I can hardly fathom that he loves me so much that he wants to be with me, much less that he wants to carry my burdens. He wants to help me  navigate life without an anxious and troubled heart but with peace and joy.  That’s what I want this year. More of Him!  To have such a close relationship with Jesus that he goes with me into every situation because I’m saturated with his Spirit.  That I become less and He becomes more.  That people see him and want to find this one thing too.  All because my life no longer consists of worry, anxiety, stress and striving but of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

All from this one thing. The one thing that matters over and above everything else and gives it all purpose. The one thing that changes me and sustains me.  The one thing that will last for eternity.

The best thing. My Jesus.