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From Weariness to Worship
Now, I don't know about you, but sometimes I feel like I'm stumbling through this Christian life like an ostrich walking on marbles. One moment, I'm confidently taking steps, and the next, I'm face-planting into the carpet of life's challenges. But here's the beautiful thing: our Heavenly Father is right there, picking us up, dusting us off, and encouraging us to try again. He's not rolling His eyes or checking His watch; He's cheering us on with the enthusiasm of a parent watching their toddler take their first steps.
The goal, as we've discussed, is to reach a place where our entire life becomes an act of worship. Imagine that! Every breath, every action, every thought offered up as a sweet-smelling savor to the Lord. It's a lofty aspiration, isn't it? But let's not be discouraged if we haven't quite reached that pinnacle yet.
Think of it like tending a garden. When you plant a seed, you don't expect a full-grown tree overnight. It takes time, patience, and consistent care. Some days, you might not see any progress at all. But beneath the surface, roots are deepening, and growth is happening.
Navigating Emotions with God’s Help
"Oh, Martha, Martha."
I can almost hear Jesus sighing as He says those words. I don't know about you, but I've heard that tone before. It usually comes right after I've done something spectacularly bone-headed, like trying to microwave a burrito still wrapped in foil. (Pro tip: Don't do that unless you enjoy impromptu fireworks in your kitchen.)
As I reflect on Martha's harsh words and accusations, I'm torn. On one hand, it's obvious her attitude was wrong, and the resulting actions were downright childish. On the other hand, I can't help but feel a pang of empathy for her. After all, I've been there. Haven't we all allowed our emotions to take the reins, leading us down a path of regret?
It's so easy to let our feelings dictate our actions, especially when we're tired, overwhelmed, or frustrated. But as believers, we're called to something higher. We're called to let God's truth guide our steps, even when our emotions are screaming at us to do otherwise. It's like trying to eat a salad when there's a perfectly good pizza sitting right next to it. We know what we should do, but boy, is it hard sometimes!
Strategies for Overcoming the Chaos of Over-Commitment
As I sit here, typing away, I can't help but chuckle at the irony. Here I am, writing about the dangers of over-commitment while my to-do list threatens to topple off my desk and bury me alive. It's a bit like a drowning man giving swimming lessons, right?
But let's be honest, we've all been there. We've all felt the weight of too many responsibilities pressing down on our shoulders, threatening to crush us under their collective mass. It's as if we're trying to juggle flaming torches while riding a unicycle on a tightrope. Over a pit of hungry alligators. In a hurricane.
The physical toll of over-commitment is no laughing matter, though. Our bodies weren't designed for constant stress and activity. We need rest, rejuvenation, and the occasional nap (preferably not during the pastor's sermon, but I won't judge). When we push ourselves too hard for too long, our bodies start to rebel.
Headaches become our constant companions. Our backs ache like we've been lugging around boulders instead of grocery bags. Our eyes develop a twitch that makes us look like we're constantly winking at everyone (which can lead to some awkward situations, let me tell you). And don't even get me started on the joys of stress-induced acid reflux. Nothing says, "I'm living my best life," like feeling like you've swallowed a flamethrower after every meal.
When Service Becomes Stressful
While the Bible doesn't tell us specifically what Martha was cooking, I have a feeling she wasn't throwing together a quick sandwich for Jesus and his followers. No, I believe she was preparing a feast. After all, it's not every day the Son of God stops by for dinner. If I had such an honored guest coming to dinner, I wouldn't serve Him a dish of Hamburger Helper. I would want to prepare a meal fit for a king, and I believe Martha felt the same.
But like many of us often do, Martha bit off more than she could chew. Her to-do list was long, and her strength was waning. Not only did she have to get everything done, but she had to do it to perfection. That means everything would finish cooking simultaneously, each dish would be delicious and cooked to just the right temperature, and everything would look just as beautiful as Martha envisioned. That, my friends, is a tall order. No wonder Martha was stressed!
Martha, My Hero
Let me tell you something that might shock you: Martha is one of my Biblical heroes. I know—you're probably thinking, "Has she lost her marbles? Martha? The one Jesus gently rebuked?" But hear me out because Martha and I are like two peas in a very stressed-out pod. You see, I'm a recovering perfectionist. I'm the girl who color-codes her sock drawer and alphabetizes her spice rack. (Don't judge me; organization is next to godliness, right? No? Well, it should be!) Like Martha, I love the Lord with all my heart, but boy, oh boy, do I get distracted. It's like my brain is a puppy in a room full of squirrels—always chasing after the next worry or task.
I've walked a mile in Martha's sandals, and let me tell you, it's not a comfortable stroll. I've let my to-do list become my taskmaster, pushing my time with God to the bottom of the heap. And just like Martha, I've learned the hard way that putting chores before the Lord is a recipe for spiritual indigestion.
Finding Rest for Our Souls
I take the Boy Scout motto "Be prepared" to new heights. When Jason and I go for a longer hike, I often load the backpacks with anything and everything we might need—a first aid kit, blankets, flashlights, extra clothing, food, water, and even a whistle. Sometimes, I go overboard and have the packs so heavy we can't carry them.
I over-plan and over-prepare for everything, whether a hiking trip or a dinner party. I get so caught up in anticipating every possible need or problem that I forget to simply enjoy being.