My To-Do Lists, Martha, and Why I Need to Choose Mary Instead

When I sold my business and retired, I enthusiastically contemplated tackling and actually finally accomplishing all my incomplete to-do lists. After all, I would have so much time on my hands, I could knock out these long-awaited projects in no time. What I have discovered, though, is I am much better at enthusiastic contemplation than I am at execution. I want to jump into tasks and chores with gusto. But somehow, I find myself taking backward leaps and even some sideways ones.

In retirement though, I decided I’d tackle a much-dreaded task first and get it out of the way. I would finally clean the oven. It had desperately needed it ever since the sweet potato explosion at Christmas.

The cleaner I had on hand was the kind with fumes, so first I needed to open all the windows.  As I ran around the house opening them, I realized they were really dirty.  So, I dashed to the computer to google window cleaning services. While there, my new-email alert chimed. It was a reminder from my mother about my cousin’s upcoming birthday. I hadn’t mailed her present yet (and by mailed, I mean purchased), so I jumped in the car and rushed to Barnes & Noble to get the newest edition of the trilogy she loves.

As I passed Target on the way, I thought I’d dash in and see if the candles I like were still on sale. It would be foolish to pass up the 30% discount, wouldn’t it?  After I purchased the candles and procured the book, I finally made it to the post office.

While I stood in line, my grandson texted me. He reminded me he needed me to pick him up from his basketball game that afternoon. He also sprung it on me that it was his turn to provide a healthy snack for the team after the game. So after mailing the package, I dashed into 7-Eleven and grabbed some healthy Doritos (they’re made of corn). I arrived just in time to see my grandson’s teammates  high-fiving him for some amazing basketball feat that I missed.

At the game, a friend I hadn’t seen in a while invited me to have a cup of coffee. I couldn’t be rude, could I? I dropped my grandson off, then hit Starbucks for a quick cuppa joe. After coffee, I ran into the grocery store to get something for dinner. But on the way to the meat department, I saw that coconut water was on sale. At home, as I unloaded the water and the candles, I realized I forgot to pick up something for dinner. I went to the freezer, noticing the house was really cold because someone left all the (dirty) windows open. Thankfully, I found a frozen pizza. And then, as I opened the oven door, to my astonishment, I discovered sweet potato still splattered everywhere.

See what I mean? I get stuck in the proverbial rabbit hole and find myself going every which way except forward. Obviously, mastering task completion would be an appropriate goal for my retirement. I’m going to work on that starting today. But first, I’ve got to get on the treadmill while I dictate notes for my next post into my iPhone. I think I’ll also catch Rachel Ray on TV. I hear she’s going to demonstrate how to cook sweet potatoes.

I’m willing to bet I’m not the only one that a mile-long to-do lists easily distracts. Our ultra-fast-paced, constantly connected world we live in causes a pervasive sense of busyness. But stepping away from responsibilities and obligations has been a challenge for humanity ever since God Himself rested on the seventh day. One Biblical character in particular jumps out at me as someone who, if she had lived in modern times, would definitely be a to-do list addict. Her name is Martha.

In the Gospel of Luke, we find Martha busily checking off her chores as she hosts Jesus and his disciples. Admittedly, she is a bit more focused than I typically am. At that time and in that culture, hospitality was of prime importance. It was also the responsibility of the women in the household, and Martha takes her role as hostess very seriously.

But rather than a sense of joy at being in the Messiah’s presence, Martha feels irritated. Her sister, Mary, who sits at Jesus’ feet engrossed in his every word, is not helping her with the workload that comes with hosting guests. And somehow, with anger and resentment building, Martha has the nerve to take her frustration out on Jesus. She complains, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” (Luke 10:40)

I can say “Martha had the nerve,” because honestly, I have that nerve myself—and quite frequently. When things aren’t going as I had planned, when I’m exhausted from running from one chore to the next, when I’m feeling irritated over even those little, everyday annoyances, I often find myself chastising Jesus. “Lord, little help here. You realize I’m having trouble sleeping, don’t you?” I might ask when I feel that He’s dropped the ball on my sleeping habits. Or, when I’m running late and feel like He’s neglected my time management, I’ll  lament, “Jesus, do you not see the clock? Can’t you make these lights stay green just until I get through?” Like Martha, I become self-centered, “anxious and troubled about many things,” only seeing my own problems and responsibilities among the hecticness of our world.

I’m a bit ashamed to admit this, but I have little doubt that, like Martha, I would lash out, too. Were Jesus Himself to knock on my door and come in for a visit, I would be so worried about the frivolous little details that I’d miss what really mattered. It’s JESUS in my living room, after all, and I’m sure I’d rush around like a chicken with my head cut off trying to make my food, my décor, my hospitality—everything—absolutely perfect for Him. But I would miss the big picture, which would be, of course, JESUS in my living room!

Thankfully, Jesus sees our hearts—and he understands the Marthas of the world. His compassion for us well-intentioned multitaskers is clear in the way he gently rebukes his distracted friend. He answers, “Martha, Martha, 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)

I don’t have a sister, so I can only imagine what Mary must have been thinking when Martha gets a little hot under the collar and in a snit. Wait…who am I kidding? I’m the one in my life who is usually hot under the collar and in a snit. So I actually can’t imagine what Mary was thinking at all. Thankfully, Luke gives us insight into her frame of mind. And from what he tells us, I’m wagering Mary doesn’t give Martha’s agitation much thought at all. She inherently knows  that where she needs to be is at the feet of Jesus, receiving spiritual nourishment and resting in His presence. It isn’t that she thinks serving her guests is unimportant. Nor is she is trying to dump all the chores on Martha. Mary is spiritually focused. She has her priorities straight.

Martha? I’ve mastered her. But I sure could use a little more Mary in my life. Instead of taking time out for Jesus, I try to fit Him into my to-do list. When I’m busy, I feel productive; and, honestly, being still can often make me feel guilty. “Surely there must be something constructive I could be doing instead of just sitting here,” I’ll ask myself. So I fill my life with activity upon activity, moving from one to the next—sometimes battling fatigue, grumpiness, and resentment as I do so, but checking items off my chore list, nonetheless.

I’m missing the better part. Not just spectacular moments at a basketball game, either, but important, life-giving, life-altering moments I could be spending at the feet of Jesus. The days go so fast, it’s easy to crowd out Jesus with “stuff” that just doesn’t matter. Thanks to Martha and Mary—and the words of Jesus Himself— I now know that I’ve got to be intentional in choosing Jesus over my busyness, or the busyness will choose for me.

What would my days look like if I choose the better thing? Instead of being ridiculously busy and distracted by the mundane tasks of each day, what if I chose to spend more time just sitting with the Lord? What if, instead of chaos and constant motion, I chose a time for stillness and quiet? Instead of ending the day crabby and tired, what if I turned to the Word and found rejuvenation and refreshment instead?

My windows might remain dirty. Sweet potato explosion may forever coat the oven. Frozen pizza could very well become a staple in our household. But I have no doubt my spirit would have all the nourishment—and the joy—it needs.