Day 20: Sitting at His Feet
Luke 10:38-42
“As Jesus and His disciples were on their way, He came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to Him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what He said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to Him and asked, ‘Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!’ ‘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.’”
Being apart from family during the holidays was part and parcel of being a military family. One such season we lived in Monterey California, while my husband attended the Naval Post Graduate School. While he spent hours in study, I busied myself serving in the youth and hospitality ministries at our church. As Thanksgiving approached, I had the idea that perhaps the hospitality committee could host a church-wide Thanksgiving Eve dinner that would provide many folks a sense of sharing the holiday with family. It turned out to be a huge success. Following the dinner, we had a worship service of Thanksgiving, during which time we were given the chance to verbally thank the Lord for His blessings and to thank particular folks in the church for their service. A gentleman stood up and called my name. He said some very nice things, thanking me for the dinner and then comparing me to Martha. I smiled and sat down feeling very humbled by his remarks. Many years passed before I understood the full meaning of his words, that they were actually a gentle rebuke.
As a task-oriented person, it was easy for me to fall prey to Martha-like attitudes, distractions, preparations and a need for performance-based acceptance. Over time, my desire to be more like Mary—to “sit at His feet”—became a longing of my heart, a deep desire born out of devoting time getting to know Jesus more intimately. Sitting still. “Being” rather than doing. It didn’t happen overnight, in fact, it took years, and there are still some days when I fail. I confess that the “doing” sometimes overrules the Divine. In this Lenten season, and every day beyond, how might we choose the better way, that which will not be taken away?
Dear Lord, thank You for reminding us of Mary, who put aside the cares of the world and chose instead to soak up every moment she could with her Savior. Help us not get wrapped up in the pressure of the day, the tasks that await us, without first sitting at Your feet. In Your name we pray. Amen.
