Dear Martha
Mary has always spoken to me as a worshipper and lover of Jesus. This posture of learning and receiving from the Lord captured my heart early in life. But life requires of us, demands of us. It demands that we feed our families, care for them when they are sick, fight spiritual battles they may not know we are fighting. Yes, I have been a Martha as well. I have set the table for the hungry and cared for others without help from the Mary who “has left me to serve alone.” Yes, I have been the Martha fighting for family without help from my sister. Literally, left to hold the pieces together as the only sibling of four left in the state to care for my parents.
One day while enjoying a cup of coffee, my cat Asher climbed up on my lap, a nightly ritual between him and my husband, Mike, at bedtime. Asher and Mike have always shared a special bond, as father and son. Each night the cat climbs up on his chest to lay next to his heart and falls asleep in peaceful rest, fully trusting, fully secure. Tonight, daddy is working. Realizing that daddy is not home, he craws up on my lap and lays acrost my chest. With a paw gently resting on my face, he begins to purr loudly. In an instant, my heart melted like butter. Tears came to my eyes, and I felt like the biggest basket case on the planet. This is a cat, I told myself.
Without warning, Holy Spirit arrested me… “Don’t you think for a second that my heart doesn’t melt just like this when you simply craw up on my lap as my daughter.” It came so suddenly that it took my breath away. I cried for several minutes, overcome by this invitation of love.
This moment came and went. I placed this in a category of a simple hug from my Father and a reminder of His love for me. Nothing more than a moment to be enjoyed, to be received. No prompting, no command to do anything, but receive. I remained in this moment until it lifted and went on with dinner and other things that were on my to-do list. Another uneventful evening. Mike came home and we had dinner. I told him how Asher replaced him with me that evening, a running joke between us of who is his favorite, mommy, or daddy? “Why do you think I give him so many treats?” he said. “He lays on my chest and strokes my face with that paw and I can’t say no.”
No more than a few days later, I found myself in one of the greatest battles for my family that I have fought. Both parents in the hospital, mom in four different hospitals in the span of one month, to be exact, and dad, unwilling to accept help. “I just can’t take care of both mom and dad.” I pleaded with the Lord. In the raging battle, Holy Spirit brought me back to this moment only days before.
An encounter is how I interpreted this event. I didn’t feel any expectation in this. No command, prompting or leading was given. It was an invitation, with no expectation. In the throes of war, I looked back on this invitation from the Lord and questioned, what was the Lord inviting me into? I did what was expected of me. To receive. And receive I did. Yet, as all invitations do, they illicit a response. They don’t come with expectation or pressure. An invitation invites. It gives access. Receiving an invitation comes with no requirement. Actually, the mailman delivers the invitation in the same way that he delivers the bills. The mailman doesn’t collect. He delivers the mail. Just the same, the invitation is delivered and we simply receive it with no requirements. I had received the invite, but had I accepted the invitation and access to the table of the Lord?
Martha was busy serving, caring, and preparing the table for the Lord to sit and be fed, all the while he bids her, "And Jesus answered and said to her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:41-42 NKJ
Dear Martha, you have set many tables, inviting the hungry. You have beautifully laid each seat with tender love and care, adding your personal touches to capture the spirit of the seasons. You have celebrated, and honored many. You have served without being asked. But don’t forget dear Martha, Jesus has set a seat at His table for you. You have been given access to be seated with Jesus “in heavenly places,” which is the “good part.” (Ephesians 2:6)
Jesus’s invitation to Martha did not come with shame, of her serving, and caring for family. It didn’t come with an expectation of “why can’t you be more like your sister?” And it didn’t come with a side of guilt, “You ought to be doing this.” It was access. Nothing more, nothing less. Not a command or another chore added to your list. “Pray more, worship more, spend more time with me.” No, just a seat at the table, an extension of the longing of His heart to simply sit with you.
All the while, I was running from hospital to hospital, between one parent to the other, and taking mom in to live with me, the seat remained opened, reserved. Access to the table in heavenly places, fit for a king.
Mountain mommas, in your fight for family don’t let the greatest opportunity to sit with your father, though seemingly small, pass you by. He longs to sit with you, for you to learn of Him, receive of Him and bring you into your rightful place as sons and daughters of the king. Your greatest weapon of war is your access into His heart.
“And hath raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus:” Ephesians 2:6.
Rachel Taylor