But, I love you Lord!

One of my favorite retellings of the conflict between sisters Martha and Mary is in the book The Messiah by Marjorie Holmes.  

Luke writes about the incident with just the bare details.  Holmes takes the account, without compromising Luke, and fleshes it out with Martha’s side of the story, which is also my story and maybe yours too.

Luke 10 says:

Now it came to pass as they went, that he entered into a certain town: and a certain woman named Martha, received him into her house.  And she had a sister called Mary, who sitting also at the Lord' s feet, heard his word. But Martha was busy about much serving. Who stood and said: Lord, hast thou no care that my sister hath left me alone to serve? Speak to her therefore, that she help me.

And the Lord answering, said to her: Martha, Martha, thou art careful, and art troubled about many things: But one thing is necessary. Mary hath chosen the best part, which shall not be taken away from her. 

My paraphrase of Holmes’ story goes like this: 

Martha began her preparations for Jesus’s visit in the wee hours of the morning.  Her excitement was on her sleeve as she received a delivery of food that she ordered for the evening meal.  An expert in the kitchen, she marinaded meats, sliced vegetables, and mixed up breads and cakes for the oven before breakfast. By midday her meal was half done, so she took care to make herself presentable. 

A few days before, she had splurged on a new, modest outfit and taught herself to comb her hair in a more flattering style; things she was not accustomed to doing. So, while the meat was simmering and the baked goods were cooling, she got ready for her special guest.

Later, back in the kitchen, her meal was near complete. Except for the sauces, all that was left to do was to set the table and lay out the food.  But where was Mary, she wondered?  She looked into the dining hall and saw Mary had already set the table and  found the most beautiful bouquet for the center piece. Martha was pleased but also jealous that, once again, Mary seemed to be one step ahead of her.

She went back to a kitchen that was suddenly becoming very hot and closed in.  She checked the ovens and found that her meats were overcooking and drying out.  She hurriedly pulled a tray out only to be burned by juices that spilled onto her hand and her dress.  

Running to cool off her scalded skin and dab her dress, the sweat began to bead on her brow spoiling her new hairdo.  A feeling of resentment, knowing that Mary was in the cooler part of the house tending to small details, began to overtake Martha.

The burn, the wilting hairdo, the guests who were late, and the overcooked food drove Martha to a state of self righteous despair, and during dinner, her anger towards Mary spilled over when she hurried into the hall, half blurting and half crying, “Lord, why don’t you make her help me!” 

Jesus stopped what he was saying to the other guests and turned to her, in what seemed to her to be the first time she had been noticed.  He got up from his seat and looked into her eyes and said, “Martha, you are so busy, so busy.  Why? I don’t expect you to slave in the kitchen for me.  I would much rather have you here along with your sister.  She has chosen the best part, and I don’t want her to leave right now.” 

“What?!” Martha blanched to herself, as her stomach doubled over inside of her.  Mary had won again. 

“But, I love you Lord, I always have,” her voice convulsed.  “I don’t know how to show it like Mary can, but Lord I LOVE YOU.” The cries came in violent waves as her long kept secret emotions boiled over.  Everyone there was shocked at this spectacle, but Jesus pulled her to himself where she wept copious tears into his tunic.

She loved him through her work, but somehow the work got in the way of loving him in the best way.  Her anger and indignation overcame her fear of showing her love, but after her outburst, her love for Jesus was able to flow like a river.  

Marjorie Holmes continues with her story showing Martha as a new woman, changed forever by her new ability to give her love freely to Jesus.

I am she who is not

I had never read nor heard the following quote before, until one morning I came across it twice in two different publications.  Incredible, I thought and most worthy of contemplation.

The Lord made himself manifest to a woman in Mexico in the early 1900’s and asked, “Do you know, my daughter, who you are and who I am? If you have this two-fold knowledge you will be happy. You are she who is not. I am He who is. If  you keep this truth in your heart, never will the enemy be able to deceive you, you will escape all his snares...”

Every week this notion is in my heart.  I cannot do much of anything and especially write, on my own.  When my head becomes a block of wood and nothing but nothing comes on the page, I conscientiously say, “I  cannot do this, I don’t have anything to say. Please, help.” In short order, the help comes.

For me, this only happens when I exhibit my understanding that I am, indeed, she who is not and that He who is can do mighty works through me if He so chooses.

If I decide that I am competent enough to do a certain thing and move forward to do it, the thing usually doesn’t turn out very well.  But if I start out in the right frame of mind that allows God to be who is, the thing turns out better than I imagine. 

Many years ago I used to make large pictures out of fabric on my sewing machine.  One of my pictures was of me as an eight-year-old standing on the step in front of our old trailer house.  I depicted myself squinting in the bright sun and wearing a pretty dress. On the side of the trailer I added a stand up propane tank. The details of the picture were nothing out of the ordinary, but just how I remembered that old house and my childhood.

A week or so later, when I was near finished with the picture, my eyes beheld the overall composition and saw things done that I had not known I had done.  I was not conscious of certain design elements incorporated in the picture until then, but those things were what made the picture one of the best I had ever done. That is because I made a conscious effort to hear His direction while working on it. 

Every now and then, I made pictures that did not turn out and ended up in the trash fabric heap. Those were the ones I did attempting to convey a political philosophy or sometimes to be “artsy”. Doing it my way and being deceived by the deceiver into thinking what I wanted to do was more important than what God wanted me to do.