“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” — Luke 10:41-42 (NIV)
THE JOURNEY
I remember the first time I hosted a small group Bible study at my house. I wanted everything to be perfect. I spent four hours cleaning the baseboards. I made a three-course meal from scratch. I curated a playlist of ambient worship music.
When the guests arrived, I was a blur of motion. I was refilling drinks, checking the oven, and taking coats. I was sweating. I was stressed. And, if I’m honest, I was resentful.
I looked into the living room and saw everyone sitting on the couches, laughing, opening their Bibles, and diving into deep conversation. They were connecting. They were experiencing community.
And there I was, alone in the kitchen, aggressively drying a platter.
I am doing all this for them, I fumed internally. I am doing this for God! Why isn’t anyone helping me?
I felt like God owed me a “thank you.” I felt like my stress was a badge of honor that proved my love.
Then, a friend named Claire walked into the kitchen. She saw my frantic energy. She didn’t pick up a towel to help. Instead, she gently took the platter out of my hands and set it on the counter.
“Sarah,” she said, looking me in the eye. “The lasagna is fine. But you’re missing the whole point. We didn’t come for the food. We came for Jesus, and we came for you. But you aren’t here.”
I froze. She was right. I was serving the guests, but I was ignoring the Guest of Honor. I was so busy “loving God” with my hands that I had stopped loving Him with my heart.
I took off my apron. I left the dirty pans in the sink (which physically pained me). I walked into the living room and sat on the floor.
For the next hour, I didn’t do anything useful. I just listened. I soaked in the word. I enjoyed the presence of God. And in that stillness, I felt a peace wash over me that the “perfect hostess” version of me never experienced. I realized that God didn’t want my exhaustion; He wanted my company.
Heart of the Matter
We live in a culture that worships productivity. We often bring that mindset into our relationship with God. We think, “I love God because I volunteer, I serve, I give, I work.” We become Martha—distracted by our service.
But in the story of Mary and Martha, Jesus makes a radical statement. He defends Mary, the one who wasn’t “working.” He says she chose the “better portion.”
Here is the dynamic: You love God by choosing to stop. You love Him by valuing His voice more than your own productivity. You drop the towel and sit at His feet. He loves you back by being your Portion. He fills you. He defends your right to rest. He validates that you are more than what you produce.
God is not looking for employees; He is looking for lovers. He can make His own lasagna. What He wants is your attention.
Faith in Action
This is a discipline of anti-productivity to reset your value system.
The Challenge: Set a timer for 5 minutes. Sit in a chair. Do not read the Bible. Do not pray a list. Do not listen to a podcast. Just sit in the presence of God. If your brain reminds you of a task, say: “That can wait. Right now, I am choosing the better portion.”
Use this time to simply enjoy being with Him, like sitting on a porch with an old friend where no words are needed.
Prayer for the Day
Lord, I confess that I am a Martha. I am worried and upset about many things. I measure my love for You by how tired I am. Forgive me for thinking You need my labor more than my love. Today, I choose the better portion. I drop the “to-do” list. I sit at Your feet. I love You by listening. Thank You for loving me enough to tell me to stop. You are my Portion, and that is enough. Amen.
LOVE Note
“The greatest thing you can do for God is to let Him love you.” — Unknown
