Striving

I feel like the dizzy, blindfolded kid at the party wildly swinging at the pinata and constantly missing. Funny thing is, though, I don't want the stupid pinata. I want someone to take off the blindfold and remove the bat from my hand so I can just enjoy the party.

I've always liked the story of Martha and Mary. It's short and to the point. And it cuts me every time. Here it is...

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 only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." (Luke 10:38-42, NIV)

Why do we strive so for things that mean so little to us? I think striving is a coping mechanism. We strive to hide our fear, to distract us from our worries, to earn perceived value, to hide from the Truth. It is in our nature to work, like Martha. It is His nature to offer grace, to offer us intimate relationship. In some ways I think we run from that because it means He sees us. Even the weakness. And we all have weak moments. But weak moments aren't moments. They are a slow building of our fears, insecurities, expectations, and life. This momentum builds until we are blind to anything but our own view of things. At these times, it is tempting to give in, to indulge the loneliness, frustration, and sadness. But we want to appear strong, self confident, together. So, we strive. We work. We swing the bat at the pinata as if busting it open will validate our existence and show the world that we are successful and valuable. We work in the kitchen and strive to be the best hostess and gain favor with our guests. And as we do this, He waits for us quietly. He loves us. He sees the fear and frustration and accepts us, forgives. He waits for us to sit at His feet and rest.

I want to choose what is better. My heart longs to be Mary in a Martha world, but all too often I find myself still striving. I long for a time of quiet refreshment in His presence where joy is abundant and peace reigns.