Have you ever longed for someone’s attention, desperate to be seen? The world tells us we can find satisfaction apart from Jesus. But Scripture says only Christ makes us complete, “and in Christ you have been brought to fullness. He is the head over every power and authority” (Col 2:10). Notice it doesn’t say complete through earthly accolades—it’s through Christ.
What if the small things you do today matter more than you know? I used to think intentionality was only needed in the big moments. The life-changing decisions. The brave yeses. The new beginnings. However, over time, I have come to realize that the most powerful kind of intentionality is often found in the quiet, everyday choices, the simple moments that don’t have a platform, a big audience, accolades, or achievements.
In our Western understanding of this passage, we interpret Martha as the ultimate hostess with the most-est, a busybody who is making sure everyone has had their fill of the charcuterie board and who wouldn’t imagine serving refills of lemonade without a rim of lavender-infused sugar on the glass. The narrative we are given is that while Martha is worrying about what shape to cut the sandwiches, her sister Mary is doing what Jesus really wants, which is sitting in his presence. The problem is that this isn’t what the story is about, and it isn’t the way the original hearers of this text would have interpreted it.
I, like many of you, have had my heart broken before. I used to wake up wondering if I would ever feel the love that I once felt ever again or if someone would ever feel that way about me again. This type of mindset made me write off the whole idea for a while. Thinking that if I just wasn’t focused on it, the fear would fade away. However, it became more problematic instead. To the point that my dad (who doesn’t usually ever comment on stuff like this) said something I won’t forget a couple of years ago. He said, “Paige, if you don’t ever give anyone a chance, then how do you expect to receive it?”
Years ago, I heard the late great Henry Blackaby say something along these lines: “The way God shows His love to you and me is outside our lives.” His love is not tied to the specifics of our daily lives. We tend to think the opposite, of course. We imagine that when God does something good, sweet, or unexpected for us, we will smile and say, “Isn’t life wonderful? I’m experiencing God’s love.” But what if tomorrow is different? What if none of those good, sweet, happy things happen to you tomorrow? What if your tomorrow is terribly difficult or sad, or filled with loss? What then? Does that mean He no longer loves you?