Are You Driving with the Emergency Brake On?

Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World, Chapter 3: The Diagnosis

Most of us worry too much. If some heavenly computer would tell us how many days we have lost or spoiled because of worry, we would be astounded. When I talk about worry, I’m not referring to healthy concern which leads to positive action. Worry is chronic fear that produces nothing positive. It’s like driving your car with the emergency brake on.

Weaver recounts some interesting statistics about worry on page 34 of Chapter 3:

40% of things we worry about will never happen

30% are about the past—which can’t be changed

12% are about criticism by others, mostly untrue

10% are about health, which gets worse with stress

8% are about real problems that can be solved

We worry about things distant and impersonal—crime, terrorism, the greenhouse effect—and things immediate and very personal—a child’s test, a brother’s check-up, the utility bill. Consider these:

A mother refuses to attend any of her son’s football games because she is worried about his possible injury. Her absence does not protect him one bit. And her worries steal from her some precious memories which she could always share with her son.

A woman worries constantly about her husband’s possible unfaithfulness. Though he has never given her reason to doubt him, he is an attractive man who in his work comes in contact with lots of women. Her constant insecurity and jealousy eventually causes insurmountable problems for the couple.

A woman has been disgustingly healthy for over twenty years but hasn’t enjoyed a day of it. She reads medical journals constantly and imagines herself having every symptom. Finally, her many years of imagined illnesses lead to a real worry-induced one.

The hard-working and frugal uncle of a friend who farmed. In 8 of 10 years he made a good profit, but to hear him tell it, he constantly teetered on the edge of disaster. If the crops were good, he feared low prices. If the weather was bad, he feared crop failure. The poor man enjoyed misery in farming for over forty years.

“The curse,” Weaver calls it, “the ongoing burden.” She goes on to tell us on page 35 that the Old English word for worry meant “to gnaw.” I really like that analogy because it so clearly illustrates what we do when we worry—we gnaw and gnaw and gnaw some more.

Jesus warned all of us specifically against this kind of chronic anxiety when he said, “Therefore, I tell you, stop being perpetually uneasy (i.e., anxious and worried) about your life” (Matthew 6:25 AMP). As Weaver points out, it isn’t a suggestion—it’s a command.

So why do we do it? Because we are imperfect, frail, vain, afraid, and weak. For some of us, worry even provides a type of structure upon which we have come to rely. For some of us worry has become an ingrained habit—and like any habit, it’s not easy to let go of it. As Weaver points out—some of us even delude ourselves into thinking that worry works:

We may be slightly neurotic, but our kids never get hurt. (We don’t allow them to climb on anything higher than the sofa.) Our husband always has clean, freshly ironed undershorts. (In case of an accident, the paramedics will know he has a wife who really cares.) We don’t get out much, but our house sparkles. (We’d like to invite someone over, but what if they said no? What if they said yes?) (36)

Can we eliminate our tendency to worry? No—because worry is a temptation—and we will never outgrow temptation. It is a normal part of being human. We shouldn’t be surprised or shocked or discouraged by it. The Bible says, “When you are tempted. . .” not if. Being tempted to worry (or whatever) is inevitable.

But remember, it is not a sin to be tempted. Temptation only becomes a sin when you give in to it. Martin Luther said, “You cannot keep birds from flying over your head, but you can keep them from building a nest in your hair.” You can’t keep the Devil from suggesting thoughts that lead to worry, but you can choose not to dwell or act on them.

And why is the Devil so intent on tempting us to worry and Jesus just as intent in warning us to beware it. Well, actually, the reason is the same-worry short-circuits our relationship with God and fixes our eyes on our situation—our circumstances—rather than on our Savior. The Devil’s coming after you, count on it. Peter knew it, and he warned us, “Stay alert. The Devil is poised to pounce, and would like nothing better than to catch you napping” (John 8:44).

Weaver is quick to point out that there is a difference between “worry” and “concern.” “Real problems do occur, usually on a daily basis.” Weaver says. “[T]there are certainly things that require concern and action on our part.” So what is the difference between healthy concern and toxic worry? Weaver’s right on, I think, when she says “Concern draws us to God. Worry pulls us from him” (38). Look at the chart on page 38. Take one of the things you listed on your page and test it against Weaver’s chart.

Weaver tells us what’s key on page 39: “There’s something we all need to remember when it comes to this issue of worry. We face legitimate concerns every day of our lives. But instead of fretting, instead of worrying, we need to focus on discerning what WE can do—with God’s help—and what should be left entirely up to God. . .we need to keep our focus on who God is and what God can do. The bills won’t pay themselves. But we serve Jehovan Jireh—the God who provides. The mole on our arm may indeed need to be checked and may even turn out to be cancerous. But we serve Jehovan-Rapha—the God who heals. There is plenty in this world to be concerned about. Be we serve El-Shaddai—an almighty God. Jesus warned us, “In this world you will have trouble” (John 16:33). Catch that! He said, “you WILL,” not “you MIGHT.” Troubles comes with this earthly territory. “But take heart!” Jesus said. That’s the reason we can leave our worry behind –not because there’s nothing to be concerned about, but because we have Someone who can handle our worries, our problems, our lives a lot better that we can.”

So what do we do? How do we fight worry? I think Weaver’s advice on page 40 is wonderful. I tried it. It works. Here’s what I do.

* Reread or recite Philippians 4:6-7.

* Magnify God not the problem.

* Change the approach.

* Pray.

So if God is waiting to help us defeat temptation, why don’t we turn to him more often? Honestly, sometimes we don’t WANT to be helped. We WANT to worry. Why? Because it makes us feel more in control. Because we don’t know what else to do. Because worrying is easier than trusting.

But, as Henry Ward Beecher pointed out, “It is not well for man to pray cream, and live skim milk.”

The first step in combating worry is examining it. On page 44, Weaver talks about taking every thought captive” and “staying our imaginations.”

“But as I began to ‘take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ’

(II Corinthians 10:5), anxiety began to lose its hold. Instead of being led

astray by fear, I took a second look at each thought as it came. Many were

incognito, disguised to look like ordinary emotions. But instead of enter-

taining them, I handcuffed the intruding thoughts that triggered fear and

took them to Jesus. Together we interrogated them asking two questions:

* Where did you come from? (What is the source of this fear? Is it real or

imagined?)

* Where are you going? (Will this thought draw me to God or into fear?)

For so long, I had let thought come and go without realizing that if Satan

controls my thought life, he controls me. Before that time, I’d carelessly

let my emotions lead me down the treacherous paths of self-reliance rather

than trusting in God.

Authors Bill and Kathy Peel observe, “It’s an interesting thing, the human mind. It can only focus on a couple of things at a time.” So after I pray, I deliberately divert my mind by doing something else.

Resisting a thought doesn’t work. It only intensifies our focus on the wrong thing and strengthens its allure. Every time I try to block a thought out of my mind, I just seem to reinforce it. I can’t defeat temptation by simply fighting the feeling of it. The more I fight the feeling, the more it consumes and controls me.

Since worry always begins with a thought, the quickest way for me to neutralize its allure is to turn my attention to something else. I have learned not to fight the thought, just rechannel my mind and get interested in another idea.

If I find myself watching something on television that tempts me to take my worry back—or I read something—or the Eeyores of the world make a run at me—I stop watching, reading, or listening. I take myself out of the situation—as my friend Jo’s Uncle Nub says, “If you don’t want to get stung, stay away from the bees.”

I quit trying to argue with the Devil. He’s better at arguing that I am, having had thousands of years of practice. I can’t bluff him with logic or my opinion or even my will, but I can rebuke him by drawing on Scripture. For me, memorizing Scripture (however badly) has been absolutely essential in my battle against worry. It’s my weapon in this battle. Weaver cites one of my favorites on page 45: “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind” from II Timothy.

Weaver encourages us to meditate on God’s Word day and night as King David did. She tells us that the word meditate has been likened to a cow chewing on its cud. I’m trying to take her next bit of advice to heart—stop gnawing on the bone of worry and chew on the cud of the promises of God. I’m trying to stop “sewing fig leaves” to “cover up my inadequacy” before God and just be at peace in the security of His love and protection.

“When Jesus said, ‘Martha, Martha. . .’ so gently that frantic day in Bethany, He was speaking to you and me as well,” Weavers says. “Come find love, Jesus invites us. . .’Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me’ (John 14:1).” Lay aside your worries, give up fiddling with things you can never hope to fix, and seek His face instead.

NOTES from 10/3 Meeting

for Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World

Chapters 1 and 2

by Janie Ginn

I stared at the big red circle around August 24^th on my calendar and sighed. Carly’s birthday. Why the sigh? Shouldn’t my only daughter’s birthday be a day of celebration and joy and thanksgiving? It is—and that’s why I was sighing. Carly was turning 21. Twenty-one. She was a bona fide young woman—at one of those landmark places in life—and I had nothing. Not even the germ of one of my scathingly brilliant ideas.

Carly’s 21^st birthday came and went that year—adequately observed I assure you—but with me still feeling like I hadn’t gotten it quite right. Shouldn’t a mother pass on something special—something lasting—to her daughter on such an auspicious day? I sighed again and thought to myself “maybe I’ll think of something before Christmas. . .”

After I began reading Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World, I knew immediately that I wanted to buy a copy for Carly. Within its pages lay so much wisdom—just the thing, I thought, to pass on. There was just one problem. Carly doesn’t like to read. She wishes she liked to read, and of course, I wish she liked to read, but there you have it. How, then, to engage her—to help her hold onto the good things I so desperately want her to remember as she makes her own woman-journey.

The answer was shared with me one morning as I was rereading parts of the second chapter. I was musing over Joanna Weaver’s effective illustrations when it hit me—a charm bracelet. As I read the book, I would note Weaver’s illustrations and then decide which to embody in silver charms for a bracelet that I would present to Carly. I know charm bracelets aren’t always en vogue but fashion wasn’t the point. I was looking for a means to understanding for my very visual learner—a tangible depiction of Weaver’s wisdom. The charms would capture the gist and help Carly to recall the main.

I still haven’t given her the bracelet. It continues to be a work in progress. Sometimes I have to search and search for a particular representation because I want it to be perfect (I am, of course, at my core, a Martha). So what have I collected so far? I thought you’d never ask!

First and foremost:

• an ankh to remind her that Christ is the Way
• a nail to remind her that Christ died for her and that as Weaver reminds us on page 11: salvation isn’t about what she does; it’s about what Jesus did. One of my favorite descriptions of Christ comes from Max Lucado who calls Jesus “a people-loving and death-defying Christ.”

On page 9, Weaver asks what I consider an unsettling question when she queries, “But in the end, will He know us? Will we know Him?” I might rephrase the first question to read: “But in the end, will we feel like He knows us?” Being still before God. . .joining him in the living room as Martha was instructed to do. . .is critical to our lives as Christians, and so, on Carly’s bracelet, she will find:

• a sewing machine to remind her to always sew with that full bobbin we talked about in our last time together;
• an urn to remind her—as Lucado puts it—that “when you’re full of yourself, God can’t fill you. But when you empty yourself, God has a useful vessel;” and
• a stop sign to—what else?—remind her to stop and be still and know that God is God for as Weaver promises: “It is impossible to be in the presence of Jesus and not be changed” (9). Thanks be to God!

In Cure for the Common Life, Lucado calls it pausing on purpose. In this excerpt, Lucado has been struggling with over commitment. After pausing on purpose, he resigns from the obligations with which he has been struggling and writes:

In short order, energy resurged, and passion rekindled. Renewal began when I paused on purpose.

What about you? Do you sense a disconnect. . .God may want you to leave. . .but you’re staying. Or [as in Martha’s case] He may want you to stay, and you’re leaving. How can you know unless you mute the crowd and meet with Jesus in a deserted place?

“Deserted” need not mean desolate, just quiet. Simply a place to which you, like Jesus, depart: “Now when it was day, He departed.” (Luke 4:42) “Depart” presupposes a decision on the part of Jesus. “I need to get away. To think. To ponder. To rechart my course.” He determined the time, selected a place. With resolve, he pressed the pause button on his life.

Your escape requires equal determination. . .Richard Foster hit the mark when he wrote: “In contemporary society our Adversary majors in three things: noise, hurry, and crowds. If he can keep us engaged in ‘muchness’ and ‘manyness,’ he will rest satisfied. . .

The devil implants metronomes in our brains. We hear the relentless tick, tick, tick telling us to hurry, hurry, hurry. . .resulting in this roaring blur called the human race.

But Jesus stands against the tide, countering the crescendo with these words: “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28).

To emphasize the importance of this daily communion with the Father, I will include

• a chalice

I chose the chalice because of the connotations it holds for me in association with the Lord’s Supper and because it seemed appropriate for this particular book. It suggests a true sharing, a deep understanding, a tender bonding.

But spending time in communion with God each day isn’t enough. On page 8 Weaver reminds us that

[i]n obedience to His invitation, we find the key to our longings, the secret to living beyond the daily pressures that would otherwise tear us apart. For as we learn what it means to choose the Better part of intimacy with Christ, we begin to be changed. . .[t]his is a Savior who accepts just the way we are—Mary or Martha or a combination of both—but loves us too much to leave us that way.

Weaver echoes this truth again on page 28 when she observes “I love the compassion of Jesus in this story. He saw Martha’s situation. He understood her complaint. But He loved her too much to give her what she wanted. Instead He gave her what she needed. . .” Again, thanks be to God! So among the charms on Carly’s bracelet will be

• a key to remind her that obedience is key in her walk with Christ.

In Jan Karon’s In This Mountain of her beloved Mitford series, she reinforces the need for obedience in a struggle between Father Tim and God.

“Lord,” he said, “speak to me, please. I can’t go on like this. Speak to me in a way I can understand clearly. I’ve read Your word, I’ve sought Your counsel, I’ve whined, I’ve groveled, I’ve despaired, I’ve pled—and I’ve waited. And through it all, Lord, You’ve been so strangely silent.”

He sat for a time, in a kind of misery he couldn’t define; wordless, trying to listen, his mind drifting. Then at last he drew a deep breath and sat up straighter, determined.

“I will not let You go until You bless me!” he said, startled by his voice in the silent room.

He took his Bible from beside his chair and opened it at random.

Stop seeking what you want to hear, Timothy, and listen to what I have to tell you.

He felt no supernatural jolt; it happened simply. God had just spoken to his heart with great tenderness, as He’d done only a few times in his life before; it produced in him an utter calm.

“Yes,” he said. “Thank you. Thank you.”

“Don’t you care, Lord?” Martha asks Jesus. “Bless me by making Mary do what she should”—the compassion of Jesus. . . He saw Martha’s situation. He understood her complaint. But He loved her too much to give her what she wanted. Instead He gave her what she needed. “Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed”—“Stop seeking what you want to hear. . .and listen to what I have to tell you.”

Obedience must accompany communion.

Also among the silver charms on Carly’s bracelet will be

• a tiny mirrored disc to remind her to be grateful for her own personality and giftings and to be the woman God made her to be

In Galations 5 Paul reminds us that “each of us is an original.” Weaver, on page 5, embraces this truth in the context of Martha and Mary when she observes

Mary was the sunlight to Martha’s thunder. She was the caboose to Martha’s locomotive. Mary’s bent was to meander through life, pausing to smell the roses. Martha was more likely to pick the roses, quickly cut the stems at an angle, and arrange them in a vase with baby’s breath and ferns.

That is not to say one is right and one is wrong. We are all different, and that is just as God made us to be. Each gifting and personality has its own strengths and weaknesses, its glories and temptations.

I find it interesting that when Jesus corrected Martha, he didn’t say, “Why can’t you be more like your sister, Mary?” He knew Martha would never be Mary, and Mary would never be Martha. But when the two were faced with the same choice—to work or to worship—Jesus said, “Mary has chosen the better part.”

To me, this implies the Better Part was available to both Mary and Martha. And it’s available to each one of us, regardless of our gifting or personality. It’s a choice we each can make.

In Cure for the Common Life Lucado puts it this way

[God] made you you-nique.

Secular thinking, as a whole, doesn’t buy this. . .[i]t simply says, ‘You can be anything you want to be.’

Be a butcher if you want to, a sales rep if you like. Be an ambassador if you really care. You can be anything you want to be. If you work hard enough. But can you? If God didn’t [give] you the meat sense of a butcher, the people skills of a salesperson, or the world vision of an ambassador, can you be one? An unhappy, dissatisfied one perhaps. But a fulfilled one? No. Can an acorn become a rose, a whale fly like a bird, or lead become gold? Absolutely not. You cannot be anything you want to be. But you can be everything God wants you to be.

Lucado reminds us that Paul advises us to “[c]oncentrate on who you are and what you have: ‘Don’t compare yourself with others. Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life’” (Galations 5).

To be her “creative best, Carly must allow the Holy Spirit access to all the hidden corners of her life as Weaver encourages us to do on page 9, and so I will include on her bracelet

• a flashlight

All the hidden corners of her life—all her fears, desires, thoughts, feelings, etc. She needn’t worry. God can handle it. Henry Ward Beecher assures us that

[p]rayer covers the whole of a man’s life. There is no thought, feeling, yearning, or desire, however low, trifling, or vulgar we may deem it, which, if it affects our real interest or happiness, we may not lay before God and be sure of sympathy. His nature is such that our often coming does not tire Him. The whole burden of the whole life of every man may be rolled on to God and not weary Him, though it has wearied the man.

So, pray on! Next, to our bracelet we add

• a slice of pizza!

A slice of pizza, I can hear those of you who are not reading along marveling—why on earth, a slice of pizza! To remind her, as Weaver’s little Jessica reminds her four-year-old brother Michael when there is no money for Domino’s: “Life’s hard, Miko!” and not always fair—so I also add

• scales

“When we look for injustice,” Weaver warns us, “we usually find it” (16). She points out that we grow up weighing what happens to us against what others experience—“Sara has more M&M’s than I do, Mama!” “Daddy, it’s my turn to sit in the front seat.” Mary’s not doing her part, Lord. Many of us, Weaver says

have carried the scales into adulthood, unaware, and we waste surprising amounts of time trying to get those scales to balance.

Fair or not fair. Equal or unequal. Just or unjust. We weigh it all. And if we’re not careful, our view of the world can become distorted. Every little word can take on a hidden meaning. Every action can turn into a personal attack.

“I do all the work,” we mutter to ourselves. “Why do they get all the glory?”

“How dare they treat me like that!”

Like grandma’s glass grapes, these “sour grapes” can easily outweigh everything good in our lives. . .

And so I also include

• a garden weeder to encourage Carly to “round up” a session with God and squelch any weeds of resentment, and
• the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland to remind her to recognize when the gracious in her is in danger of collapsing, as it did in poor Martha, allowing the Queen of Hearts to take over. With lowering brow and frightening scowl she comes on the scene pointing fingers and bellowing, “Off with their heads! Off with everyone’s head!” (19)

I want Carly to remember that if she allows herself to become overwhelmed and distracted, she will feel incredibly alone, mistreated, and angry.

Weaver devotes most of the second chapter to what she calls the three deadly D’s: distraction, discouragement, and doubt, Satan’s ancient but still effective tools for derailing us. After some deliberation, I decided on

• a triangle

to represent the three D’s on Carly’s charm bracelet. During our get-together someone pointed out that its 3 points could also represent the Trinity—a blended message of “fight the 3 D’s with the Trinity.” I like that.

Satan knows if we’re overly worried and bogged down by duties, chances are good our hearts won’t hear the Savior. . .he wants to get our eyes off God and onto our circumstances. Distraction makes us vulnerable to attack.

Discouragement breaks down our perspective and defenses. Satan uses discouragement to suggest to us that our situation is hopeless. This hopeless or overwhelmed feeling can lead us to become depressed. . .to join Elijah under the broom tree of self-pity or withdraw to the broom closet of isolation. “Depression [and self-pity] drain us of all hope, of all vision, of all our tomorrows and dreams. . .,” Weaver says, and she’s right (20). It’s such a waste of good energy.

Since Satan can’t make us doubt God’s existence, he will do his best to make us doubt God’s love. Doubt seduces us to take control. Weaver refers to it as Satan’s siren song and characterizes it as a countermelody to faith: the mournful tune arises during those times when God neither acts the way I think He should nor loves me the way I want to be loved. Like two songs being played in different keys, the dissonance of what I feel clashes with what I know and

threatens to drown out the anthem of God’s eternal love (22).

“Doubting God’s love doesn’t require tragedy. It can creep into the everyday just as insidiously, just as dangerously,” Weaver warns us. “It happens when our will is crossed, when our needs are ignored, or when we, like Martha, [feel like we] are stuck doing the dirty work while everyone else [seems to be] having fun. . .[n]ow, such doubt in itself is not a sin. It’s simply a thought or feeling that springs up almost involuntarily. But when we let is lodge in our heart long enough, wedged tightly like a poppy seed between our teeth, that little doubt can become a big problem. For doubt, left unchecked, can fester into unbelief” (25).

On page 26 Weaver further illustrates this beautifully in her observations on the familiar story of Adam and Eve

The Garden of Eden must have been wonderful. Just think: no house to clean, no meals to cook, no clothes to iron! Eve had it made. A gorgeous hunk of a husband. Paradise for a living room. God for a playmate. But somehow, in the midst of all these blessings, the marvelous grew mundane, the remarkable ho-hum. And a nagging sense of discontentment sent Eve wandering toward the only thing God had withheld: the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.

What is it about us women that creates such a desperate need in us to always “know,” to always “understand”? We want an itinerary for our life, and when God doesn’t immediately produce one, we set out to write our own.

“I need to know,” we tell ourselves.

“No,” God answers softly, “you need to trust.”

Stop seeking what you want to hear. . .and listen to what I have to tell you.

I believe Eve’s eventual sin began with a tiny thought—a small, itching fear she was somehow missing something and that God didn’t have her best interest at heart. What could be wrong with something so lovely, so desirable as the forbidden fruit? Perhaps a hidden resentment had worked down into her spirit. Adam got to name the animals while she got to pick papayas. Whatever the identity of the tiny irritation, it sent her looking for more.

And Satan was ready and waiting, willing to give her more that she’d ever bargained for. He filled her mind with questions. “Did God really say. . .?” Satan encouraged Eve to doubt God’s word and God’s goodness until the continual question marks finally obliterated her trust in God’s love.

Humanity has questioned God’s love ever since.

Such a waste—and not something I hope for my daughter so, on her bracelet, I add

• a weeping willow to represent Elijah’s broom tree of self-pity (19-20);
• a broom to encourage her to stay out of the broom closet of isolation (20); and
• a clock to remind her to set the timer for a good cry and then move on and to trust God’s timing (21)

Weaver gives her readers five strategies for fighting discouragement, some of which are represented above. One of the most important is her encouragement to allow for rest stops. The

• quilt

on the bracelet will remind Carly to rest and the

• angel

will remind her of Elijah’s angel as portrayed by Weaver on page 20

I love the tender picture of I Kings 19:5-7, for it hints at the tenderness available to us in our own discouragement. Remember what happened? God sent an angel to bring food to his downhearted prophet. ‘Get up and eat,’ the angel told Elijah, ‘for the journey is too much for you’ Then the angel stood guard as Elijah fell back asleep.

When we’re distracted and discouraged, tired and overwhelmed, there is no better place to go than to our Father. He alone has what we need. Don’t snivel under a broom tree. Don’t hide in a broom close. Go to the Lord and let Him sweep away your discouragement.

As you do, you’ll find healing for your hurting heart.

Even when it can’t help but doubt.

“Trust in Him at all times, O people; pour out your hearts to Him, for God is our refuge,” Psalms 62:8 tell us, and so the last charm I add tonight is

• a question mark

to encourage Carly to talk things over with the Lord and to remind her of Henry Ward Beecher’s wise and comforting words above. I want her to feel confident that she can bring her needs—any needs—to Jesus anytime and anywhere. As Weaver points out, even Martha took full advantage of His availability, even in the midst of her busyness and party preparations and in defiance of a woman’s place. I also want to Carly to know that Jesus loves her enough to confront her when her attitude is wrong. “Those whom I love,” says the Lord, “I rebuke and discipline” (Revelation 3:19). That’s what the Savior did with Martha. He intuitively understood Martha’s pain, but that didn’t stop Him from telling her what she needed to hear.

Does Jesus care? “You’d better believe it!” Weaver assures us. “You’d better believe it!,” she hastens to add. “Because until you settle that question once and for all, you will never get past doubt to true belief. You’ll forever be faced with a shiny apple and the hiss of temptation to take matters into your own hands. The fact is, until we stop doubting God’s goodness, we can’t experience God’s love” (28).

As Weaver reminds us, God will answer any question. He longs to reveal His love to us. “But,” she says, “you won’t find it by shaking your fist in His face. You won’t find it by barging into His presence and demanding to be treated fairly. You’ll find it by sitting at His feet and remembering who He is” (29).

NOTES from 9/5 Meeting

Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World

Mama and I recently tackled the daunting task of making lined drapes for my daughter’s apartment. We had invested in nice fabric, and I was determined that the finished product was going to be something she could use after she graduates in December.

Mama and I decided that I would do all the measuring, cutting, and pressing, and she would do all the actual sewing on the machine.

There were a few. . .challenges. At one time, I had the pattern on one curtain running up, and on the other, down. Mama sewed the header tape onto the wrong end. When we began pinning the hems, we realized I had cut the linings too short. Sew it up, rip it out, sew it up, rip it out. Depending on the seam, this sometimes proved easier than others.

For those of you who don’t sew, there is a dial on the front of the sewing machine just above the needle that adjusts the tension on the thread as the machine sews. For a strong, firm seam, a thread from the spool and another thread from the bobbin below must interlock smoothly and tightly in the fabric. An experienced seamstress checks the thread tension and makes minute adjustments in setting that dial because she understands how important it is that the tension be regulated properly.

At times as Mama sewed, she would accidentally bump that dial. I would hear the click-click—and Mama’s groan—alerting us that the delicate balance of upper and lower threads had been disturbed. This improper balance meant that no seams would be strong and usable until the tension was adjusted again. Everything else had to stop until Mama was satisfied that the threads were once more interlocking properly.

Hold that thought.

As I reread Luke 10:38-42 recently, I found myself thinking about the tension dial on the sewing machine.

Luke wrote about a dinner held in a home in Bethany. Here’s the scene as I imagine it:

A hot day. A whitewashed village on a hillside just outside Jerusalem. The home of Martha—possibly a well-to-do widow who had taken in her sister Mary and brother Lazarus.

Martha welcomes Jesus and His followers into her home and hurries to arrange a comfortable seat for Jesus and then to bring a cool drink to each of her guests. She nods to Mary who fills the basin near the door with water, then takes a towel and begins to wash each guest’s feet.

Jesus and His followers seat themselves around the large room, chatting quietly about events of recent days. This is not Jesus’ first visit to Bethany. The villagers have heard Him speak before. They begin to crowd the doorway, anxious to come in and listen. A few even edge in and sit down outside the ring of disciples. It’s even possible that, initially, both Martha and Mary take their places at Jesus’ feet to learn from Him.

I don’t know how long Martha sat there listening, but I have a feeling that if she was anything like me, she sat there that day with a divided mind. After all, there were 13 men who would be hungry and needed to be fed. What was on hand to feed them? What would it take to get everything ready? Did she need to slip out and run to the market for grain or fruit?

I identify with Martha. I know exactly what she was doing as she sat there. First, she made a mental inventory of everything in the pantry. After that, she planned the menu, making sure she overlooked no detail. Then she made a list in her head of all the things that had to be done. When she had thought everything through, she glanced around the room, plotting the best route through the crowd to get from where she was sitting to the kitchen.

With that in mind, she could sit there no longer. She had to get busy! After all, she was the hostess. It was her responsibility to meet the needs of her guests. No one would think less of Lazarus or Mary if the meal were not adequate. The blame would land squarely on her. No time to sit and listen to Jesus now—perhaps after dinner when all the work was done.

Once in her kitchen, Martha felt that flush of excitement that comes to many of us when we are about to do something special for someone we really care about. We want everything to be perfect—or as perfect as we can make it. Our love energizes us. We are exhilarated by the opportunity to demonstrate how much we care.

I can just see Martha now, can’t you? A galvanized whirlwind of activity--first, start the beans and lentils cooking with onions and garlic. Then, dress the lamb for roasting. Next, grind the grain and mix the bread for baking. Prepare the figs and pomegranates. Draw the water to mix with the wine. Set the table. Quick stir of the beans and lentils to keep them from sticking. Quick turn of the lamb on the spit so it cooks evenly. Pop the bread in the oven—and then—she glances out the window at the position of the sun in the sky and realizes that it will soon be mealtime and she is far from finished.

Been there, done that? Carried along on the crest of enthusiasm, only to realize you’re running out of time and can’t finish everything you’ve planned to do. I don’t know about you, but when that happens, I tend to get angry—angry with anyone else who might have made a difference in my accomplishing my plans.

I suspect that’s what happened to Martha. Suddenly all the plans and the work that had started out as pure joy turned into a frustrating, overwhelming chore. Indeed, Luke tells us in verse 40 that Martha was distracted by all the preparations she was making. The harder Martha worked, the more worked up she became.

It was Mary’s fault. If Mary had only been there to help her, it would have been different.

We all know that feeling, don’t we? It’s bad enough when we have to do everything, but it’s even worse when someone we think should be—or could be—helping us pull the load, doesn’t. Our irritation about the unfairness of it all builds to the bursting point.

That’s what happened to Martha. In verse 40, she finally explodes: Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!

I think it’s interesting that Martha spoke her irritation to Jesus directly. Maybe she had already tried to get Mary’s attention and signal her to get up and come help. Perhaps she had cleared her throat—given her the nod—made other attention-getting motions—but Mary had just ignored her and gone on listening to Jesus.

Whatever had already happened, Martha became frustrated enough to address Jesus directly, accusing Him of not caring about her and demanding that He direct Mary to get up and help her. Quite a bold move considering the room was most probably full of men not accustomed to such behavior on a woman’s part.

Martha was sure, though, that, if Jesus really cared, He would do as she asked. I’m also amused by the way Martha linked Jesus’ care for her to His willingness to tell Mary to get busy. Martha thought she knew just how Jesus should demonstrate His care—how He could lighten her load—and told him so.

Jesus did lighten her load—though not in the way she expected.

In Jesus’ response to Martha, we can learn a lot about our discipleship as Christian women:

Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but only this one is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her (41-42).

The problem didn’t lie in the work Martha was doing. It was in the choice she made. It was her attitude of fretting and worrying that created a bad situation. Jesus knew that Martha was putting too much stress on things that shouldn’t be taking priority that day. Martha’s problem was one of balance, of holding life in the proper tension.

Take a closer look at what Jesus did and did not say to the overwrought, overburdened Martha.

First, Jesus did not rebuke her for making preparations for Him and His disciples. She was the hostess. If she had decided to skip any food preparation, her guests would have gone hungry. Jesus certainly understood physical hunger. What was going on in Martha’s kitchen was important and good and right.

But Jesus knew that that in addition to hungry bodies, people have hungry souls. We do not live on bread alone. Martha’s problem was not that she was preparing food for her guests to eat. That was necessary, and in her role as hostess, it was appropriate.

But she gave it too much importance.

Instead of settling for a simple supper—maybe good bread, fruit, cheeses, wine—she tried to impress with an elaborate meal. Jesus in essence told her that this was not necessary. It was not He who had asked (or expected) such a meal; it was Martha who had decided it must be that way.

We all have responsibilities. We go to the office. We cook. We grade papers. We clean house. We do the laundry. We care for the children. We do these things, and we want to do them well. After all Dorothy Sayers reminds us, “The only Christian work is good work, well done.” No crooked table legs came out of the carpenter shop in Nazareth. God is not honored by shoddy work or the neglect of our necessary duties in life. Martha understood that. She sought to honor God and Jesus through her hospitality. She was going all out. She felt it was necessary.

What she had forgotten—what Jesus wanted to remind her of--was that we must be sure that the necessary doesn’t get out of proportion and distort our lives.

Jesus also recognized that Martha was looking down on or disapproving of what Mary had chosen to do. Martha was imposing her value system—her priorities and her agenda—on Mary.

Note that Jesus did not tell Martha to do what Mary was doing. At the same time, He pointed out that Mary had chosen the good or better part.

Do you think Jesus was a bit hard on Martha? After all, she was doing all this work to please Him. Poor Martha—there sat Mary enveloped in an aura of holiness, while she reeked of olive oil and garlic. Martha was trying to be useful, but Mary got the halo.

It’s important to note that Jesus doesn’t rebuke Martha’s character—or the work she was doing—her work was good and necessary. It was Martha’s attitude that needed correcting, her perspective that needed adjusting.

In the example of the good Samaritan, Jesus tells the religious scholar that we are to love the Lord our God with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our strength, and with all our mind, and our neighbor as ourselves.

Note the order of the two loves: God first, then neighbor. Not the other way around. It is not a question of choosing the active over the contemplative.

It is a matter of priorities.

I think the message of Luke 10 is that we must put listening to and learning the Word of God before service. Doing so equips and inspires us for our service for God and to others.

What Jesus wanted that day was not Martha’s lentils and lamb, but Martha herself. Mary has chosen the better part He told Martha—Mary had chosen to make herself available to Christ.

Martha wanted Jesus to lighten her load. He did—but not in the way she thought it should be done. He knew that our relationship with God does not develop in the midst of busyness. We need to hear God speak to us. We need to be still. Service and contemplation. They must exist side by side, tempered and supported each by the other.

That brings me back to my sewing machine tension dial. If the tension on the top thread is too loose, the underside of the fabric will snarl with excess thread. The seam will have no strength. It will pull apart the moment pressure is applied. The only thing the seamstress can then do is pull out all the threads, adjust the tension, and start over.

We also have no usable seam if the threads are not feeding from both the top spool and the bobbin underneath. We could try to sew all day with only the top spool on the machine and nothing in the bobbin holder, but we would not have a single seam.

The Martha thread and the Mary thread must both be feeding properly if we are to have any seam at all. The balance between the two has to be finely adjusted if the result is to be strong and usable.

The world we live in dictates that we concern ourselves with food and clothes and homes and family and jobs and schools and church. But we must also concern ourselves with our relationship to God. That was Martha’s real problem. She was sewing with no thread in the bobbin.

To get our service right, we must get our priorities right. We must let Jesus minister to us before we go out to minister for Him. That is God’s order: first we love the Lord our God with all our hearts, souls, strength, and minds, and then we are prepared to go out and love our neighbor as ourselves. He will show us how to do both if we will just get out of the way and allow Him to do it.

When we take matters into our hands and think that we know best—like Martha—we may end up feeling overworked and underappreciated, but when we keep our priorities in line with God’s priorities, we will find that God enables us to do what needs to be done with joy and satisfaction.

Martha and Mary—it’s the story of you and me.

Luke 10:38-42

LUKE 10:38-42

The Message

38-40As they continued their travel, Jesus entered a village. A woman by the name of Martha welcomed him and made him feel quite at home. She had a sister, Mary, who sat before the Master, hanging on every word he said. But Martha was pulled away by all she had to do in the kitchen. Later, she stepped in, interrupting them. "Master, don't you care that my sister has abandoned the kitchen to me? Tell her to lend me a hand."

41-42The Master said, "Martha, dear Martha, you're fussing far too much and getting yourself worked up over nothing. One thing only is essential, and Mary has chosen it—it's the main course, and won't be taken from her."

New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

³⁸Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. ³⁹She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. ⁴⁰But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” ⁴¹But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; ⁴²there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

Amplified Bible

38 Now while they were on their way, it occurred that Jesus entered a certain village, and a woman named Martha received and welcomed Him into her house.

39 And she had a sister named Mary, who seated herself at the Lord's feet and was listening to His teaching.

40 But Martha [overly occupied and too busy] was distracted with much serving; and she came up to Him and said, Lord, is it nothing to You that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me [to lend a hand and do her part along with me]!

41 But the Lord replied to her by saying, Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things;

42 There is need of only one or but a few things. Mary has chosen the good portion [that which is to her advantage], which shall not be taken away from her.

New Living Translation

38 As Jesus and the disciples continued on their way to Jerusalem, they came to a village where a woman named Martha welcomed them into her home. 39 Her sister, Mary, sat at the Lord's feet, listening to what he taught. 40 But Martha was worrying over the big dinner she was preparing. She came to Jesus and said, "Lord, doesn't it seem unfair to you that my sister just sits here while I do all the work? Tell her to come and help me."

41 But the Lord said to her, "My dear Martha, you are so upset over all these details! 42 There is really only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it--and I won't take it away from her."

King James Version

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.

American Standard Version

38 Now as they went on their way, 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, who also sat at the Lord's feet, and heard his word.

40 But Martha was cumbered about much serving; and she came up to him, and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister did leave me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me.

41 But the Lord answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art anxious and troubled about many things:

42 but one thing is needful: for Mary hath chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her.

New International Reader's Version

38 Jesus and his disciples went on their way. Jesus came to a village where a woman named Martha lived. She welcomed him into her home. 39 She had a sister named Mary.

Mary sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. 40 But Martha was busy with all the things that had to be done. She came to Jesus and said, "Lord, my sister has left me to do the work by myself. Don't you care? Tell her to help me!"

41 "Martha, Martha," the Lord answered. "You are worried and upset about many things. 42 But only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better. And it will not be taken away from her."

MATTHEW 11:28-30

Amplified Bible (AB)

28 Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy-laden and overburdened, and I will cause you to rest. [I will ease and relieve and refresh your souls.]

29 Take My yoke upon you and learn of Me, for I am gentle (meek) and humble (lowly) in heart, and you will find rest (relief and ease and refreshment and recreation and blessed quiet) for your souls.

30 For My yoke is wholesome (useful, good--not harsh, hard, sharp, or pressing, but comfortable, gracious, and pleasant), and My burden is light and easy to be borne.

New Living Translation (NLT)

28 Then Jesus said, "Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke fits perfectly, and the burden I give you is light.”

King James Version (KJV)

28 Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.

30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

Introduction

In Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World, Joanna Weaver invites all women to reexamine the poignant story of two sisters from Bethany. Before we begin reading, though, I invite you to think about the following.

1. What preconceived ideas do you have about Mary and Martha?

2. Read the attached translations of Luke 10:38-42.

a) Highlight the key phrases associated with Mary in one color.

b) Highlight the key phrases associated with Martha in a second color.

c) Highlight the responses of Jesus in a third color.

d) Circle the conjunctions in verses 40 and 41. Do they influence the way you respond

to what you read?

3. I have little (if no) doubt that almost everyone will identify with Martha and for reasons that are too well-known to all of us. A woman once told our author: “My life is like a blender—stuck on frappe!” What inanimate object would you choose to best describe how your life currently feels?

4. How do you feel about Mary? Why?

5. Briefly define the following terms:

a) struggle

b) intimacy

c) go all out

d) choice

e) distraction

5. What does the Bible say in the following verses about our potential for change?

Ezekiel 36:26-27________________________________________________________

II Corinthians 5:17______________________________________________________

Philippians 1:6_________________________________________________________

6. Read the attached translation of Matthew 11:28-30. Highlight the words and phrases that speak most to you.

Now it’s time to open the book and start reading! For me, there is no greater anticipation than that I feel before opening a book to the first page. Let me share some words from our author to send you on your way.

“Nothing has transformed my life like the study of God’s Word. Something powerful happens when we go beyond other people’s opinions and revelations and discover for ourselves what God has to say. . .

I recommend using a translation of the Bible that you enjoy and understand, as well as a notebook to record your answers (see page 229 for Joanna’s own journal form).

My prayer is that each of you will begin to experience the blessing God promises to those who look ‘intently into the perfect law that gives freedom. . .not forgetting what he has heard, but doing it’ (James 1:25). . .[d]ig in, ladies! You’ll be glad you did” (209).

Almighty and most merciful God, You have given the Bible to be the revelation of your great love to us, and of Your power and will to save us; grant that our study of it may not be made in vain by the callousness or carelessness of our hearts, but, that by it, we may be confirmed in penitence, lifted to hope, made strong for service, and, above all filled with the true knowledge of Yourself and of Your Son, Jesus Christ. Amen. (George Adam Smith)

Before next time: Read Chapter One: “A Tale of Two Sisters,” pps. 1-12.