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 24th 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 21st 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
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
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, 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
“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
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
on the bracelet will remind Carly to rest and the
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
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).
