"Martha" Syndrome

Last week, my pastor asked me to prepare a five minute word for church. I was nervous and a little worried I wouldn't have anything. This came after a word that I needed to be more like Mary and less like Martha. So, during the week, I really mused on what was said and at first, I was feeling all kinds of distressed. Then I buckled down and began to study. I read and studied out several things, but I didn't feel settled about it being the word God wanted me to share. As part of my preparation, I also fasted. On the last day of my fast, I was praying and lo and behold, Luke 10:38-42 came to mind. I felt the Lord wanted me to study it out and share what I learned. Here's the scripture below:

Luke 10:38-42 (KJV)
³⁸ Now it came to pass, as they went, that he entered into a certain village: and a certain woman named Martha received him into her house.
³⁹ And she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard his word.
⁴⁰ But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came to him, and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me.
⁴¹ And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things:
⁴² But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.

I want to pull out the words I bolded. "Cumbered" literally translates, was pulled about or was distracted. In the Greek, it means to drag all around, i.e. to distract (with care). 

Serving means attendance (as a servant,etc), figuratively aid, (official) service (especially of the Christian teacher, or technically of the diaconate (that is, deacons)). 

Careful does not mean what it does in the English, it means to be anxious about something in the Greek. 

Needful means employment, i.e. an affair or occasion, demand, requirement, or destitution.

To pull it all together, Jesus gently corrected Martha and let her know that Mary choose the "good part", that which cannot be taken away or wrested from her. Yes, we need people to serve in the church - this is all very important, but individually and corporately, our JOB, our EMPLOYMENT, our REQUIREMENT is to first sit at the feet of Jesus. 

Lord knows, this is a corrective word to me. All the various roles I must fill should never ever trump my first role - disciple of Christ. It is a challenge to me and anyone else who loves the Lord to first, sit at His feet. The things we will gain from this time spent with Him, the things He'll have a chance to speak to us - these things can never be taken from us. We can lose our natural employment, burn up that meal we neglected the Lord to cook, but that time spent...not to quote a commercial, but it is truly priceless.

The Importance of a Father

I was sitting here working on other things, but I wanted to take a moment to share my thoughts on this matter - the importance of a father.

I have my Dad in my life, but it was not always a stable nor consistent presence due to circumstances beyond my control. My mother and father's relationship was pretty much over before I was born and though I think they made an attempt to make it work (from what I've heard anyway), I never recall a time when my  mother and father were together as a couple.  I would say that for the most part, my mom raised me, but that wouldn't be all the way true either. You see, just to give a little background, from what I know my mom was there until I was about 2 years old. Then she got a job in California and left my older sister and I with her sister (my aunt) and the maternal side of the family. I remember my mom coming through intermittently, but for the first years of life, my world consisted of my aunt, my older sister, my grandma, great grandma, and my uncles. Dad was sprinkled in there, but I don't really remember much.

Then my mom came back right around the time I started school. It was an adjustment period. My mom got a job on the same state as us, but it was two hours away. She had an apartment there and my sister and I lived with my aunt. My mom would visit on the weekends. Eventually, she moved back into the house with my sister, aunt, and I. It was rough. The sisters (my mom and aunt) clashed at times. Lifestyle and personality differences were to blame. My mom hadn't had to deal with children full-time in years. I imagine that was hard on her too. She left in the morning before I went to school and arrived home later in the evening, after homework had been done. She was often tired and easy to anger. It was hard. My mom did the best she could with what she had.

As time went on, my aunt made the decision to move out and my mom was mom - full-time. I do remember my dad visiting a few times during those years. I met my brother (from my father). Unfortunately, there was a lot of bitterness in that situation with my mom toward my dad. It came out at times in her interactions with me. It came out in how she'd talk about him. I knew far too much as a young child about child support and what I was and was not receiving. It all kind of went over my head. As an adult, I realize now that none of that was my business. The only thing that I should have known about or had to care about was that I had a mom AND a dad who love me. The state of their relationship, how it ended, how my mom felt...for real, that was none of my business. A positive shift occurred when my mom, sister, and I moved away from my maternal family in Virginia.

All that being said - when I was about 12, there was a pivotal turning point in my relationship with my father. It was the summer before 7th grade and I went to visit him in Texas by myself. It was astonishing to see this man who I resembled so much. He had this (to me) big, nice house. And there was my stepmother. She is a very tall woman, very sophisticated, and in all honesty, I still see a lot of similarities between her and my own mother physically at least. My dad definitely has a type. What stuck out the most to me though, is that she was very kind to me. I have actually learned a lot from my stepmother that I still carry with me and I respect her a great deal. She didn't try to be my mom. She was just herself and she treated me with love. She respected me as my father's daughter and I know she loves him, so she just treated me with love.

But the important part of all that background? That visit, the things I was beginning to recognize in myself, showed me the importance of having a father. I don't remember really experiencing the yearning for a Dad until then or really understanding what that is. I had uncles and men in my life, but it's not the same. I was still awkward around men because I had never really experienced it. I didn't know how to conduct myself because I had never had a father in the home to show me.  And as I grew into a teen and a young woman, that awkwardness, that unsureness - it permeated my life. I began to understand then - a father is important because a father brings stability. A father helps you feel protected. I experienced various types of violation in my life and never felt safe.  I was always afraid. And while I had my mother and many other strong women in my life - a father is the strength of the house. This is what I learned as an adult Christian woman and I totally get it. I can say that some of the mistakes in my life that I made could be contributed to that absence, but I can also say that many of them were not. I believe everything that happened to me, my life, my circumstances - they are not meant to be something that I lament. No. It is just life. Life can be hard at times and we can't always control our circumstances, but one day, we can decide not to let those circumstances define us.

As an adult, I have a good relationship with my dad. It hasn't always been easy, but we are here. And I am thankful for him. In his eyes, I am still his little girl and little things he does, I see him wanting in some ways to make it for lost time. While it is too late for that, I look forward to seeing him be a grandfather to my children one day. I know now that despite circumstances and distance and differences of opinion, my father loves me. And while sometimes I wish he had the opportunity to truly "father" me, I am thankful for those men that did as best they could. I am thankful for God because He was and IS always present.

Now, I am married and through my relationship with God, a lot of healing is still taking place. God was so gracious to give me a husband who had his father. A husband who came to know the Heavenly Father as a teenager and who was mentored by a spiritual father. And I have so much hope for my future and the future of our children. I know that my children have a chance at a very different life. Both of their parents love God and as a result, know how to love one another properly (and are learning more and more each day), and will know how to love them. They won't have to know the fear I felt. They will have the certainty of the cross in their life. And where me and their father may fall short, God will be there to give them what we don't have yet or may not ever have. This is the greatest gift. My children will not just have a father, but they will that THE FATHER.

The Heart of the Matter

Like many, maybe like everyone at one time or another, I have felt misunderstood. As technology has gotten more prevalent, the possibility of misunderstanding has increased exponentially in my opinion. As an adult, I am learning to combat this by picking up the phone or talking to someone in person. I am beginning to recognize situations (at 30) where a text can be misconstrued or an email taken out of context. The thing is, it's difficult, even for the best writer to convey his or her heart in words. It is even harder to do it in 160 characters or less.

Paul did it well in his letters to the church in Corinth, Timothy, Titus,  and many others - but he had space to make it clear. Now in the age of the "right now" and the sound bite, it's much easier to appear callous, careless, or flippant in modes of communication that have become popular - many of which emphasize brevity and the avoidance of actual contact. I can't tell you how many times I've written and rewritten a text, trying my best to convey the heart of the matter as well as just the "facts".

So, when I happen to shoot off a text or email a second too soon before evaluating the implications - I lament the possibility of my intent,  my heart, being misunderstood yet again. Yes, it's a bit dramatic, but it's also a very real thing I grapple with regularly and truth be told, I think we all do. We write an email at work, send a text to our friend, get on our soapbox on Facebook - if we are conscientious, we want to make sure we really convey what we mean.

Just my musing.