She Left Me To Serve Alone

Recently I asked the question “What woman in the Bible am I most like” and the answer I got surprised me. The answer presented to me was Martha. If there is anyone in the Bible that I feel I related to the least it’s Martha. But after I asked why, I began to understand why that was the answer presented to me.

For years I think I misunderstood Martha. We all know the story from Luke 10. Jesus comes to the house of Martha and Mary. Martha runs out to greet him and welcome Him into her home. She’d probably spent the morning cleaning and cooking and preparing to have guests. Once He entered the home, He began speaking and Mary sits at His feet while Martha is running around trying to take care of everything and everyone. Eventually, she has enough.

Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone?

Luke 10:40

And there she is. Martha. The woman who was too busy. Too distracted. Too worried about everything that needed to get done. Meanwhile Mary chose “the good portion” as Jesus states in His reply. So naturally no one grows up thinking I hope I’m a Martha. But after reflecting on her for a while, I am thinking that isn’t really fair to her. Because lately I understand Martha.

I understand walking into a room and immediately noticing everything that needs to be done. I understand thinking about dinner while someone else is relaxing. I understand carrying the mental list. This needs to be cleaned. That needs to be paid. Someone needs help. Something needs fixed. Nobody else seems to notice. And eventually that quiet little voice inside becomes: Does anybody see me doing all of this?

That is what I hear when Martha speaks to Jesus. “Do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone?” That doesn’t sound like a woman who hates serving. She clearly loved it. It sounds like a woman who was tired of serving alone. And I understand that woman more than I’d like to admit.

But if we stop at Martha’s story in Luke 10, we miss much of who she actually was. We meet her again in John 11 after the death of her brother Lazarus. He’s been dead for four days and when Jesus arrives, once again, she goes out to meet Him. But this time she isn’t excited. She is hurting. She is angry. She wants answers. And she doesn’t pretend to be anything but exactly how she is feeling. And she doesn’t speak to Him in a polished way. She is very real with Him.

Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.

John 11:21

I love that raw emotion from her. And that statement that she didn’t even try to sugarcoat. Sometimes my prayers sound more like Martha than Mary. Most times if I am being honest. They can be ugly. They can be full of questions. They can be full of disappointment. At times they are, God, where were You? Why did You let this happen? Why am I carrying this? Why haven’t You changed this yet? She tells Jesus exactly how she feels. But then she says something remarkable:

But even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you.

John 11:22

She is hurting. She doesn’t understand. And she still believes. And just a few verses later, this woman who is angry and hurting and questioning, makes one of the strongest declarations of faith in the entire Gospel of John.

“Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the son of God, who is coming into the world.” – John 11:27

That is Martha too. Not just the woman with too much on her plate. Not just the woman bustling around the house while Mary relaxes with Jesus. Martha was a woman who knew exactly who Jesus was and once I realized that… I don’t mind being compared to her.

Because my faith isn’t always quiet. Sometimes my faith looks like sitting peacefully with an open Bible. Other times it looks like talking to God while folding laundry. Sometimes it looks like worship. Sometimes it sounds like Lord, I don’t understand what You are doing right now. Sometimes I trust Him while being frustrated, tired, overwhelmed, or disappointed. And maybe that’s still faith.

Martha teaches me that faith doesn’t require pretending. You can love Jesus and tell Him you’re hurting. You can still believe and have questions. You can serve people and occasionally become exhausted from serving them. You can know exactly who Christ is while still having moments where life feels like too much.

Jesus corrected Martha in Luke 10, but He didn’t reject her. He didn’t tell her that her servant’s heart was bad. He told her she was “careful and troubled in many things.“

Maybe Martha’s problem wasn’t that she cared too much. Maybe she was simply carrying too much of it at once. I know something about that. I have spent a lot of my adult life being the person who handles things. The person who notices. The person who figures it out. The person who keeps moving because something has to get done. And there are days when I desperately want someone else to notice the invisible list I’m carrying. Does anybody care that I am doing this alone?

But maybe Jesus’ invitation to Martha wasn’t stop being this kind of woman. Maybe it was; come sit down a while. You don’t have to earn My presence by keeping everything running. You don’t have to solve every problem before you come to Me. You don’t have to hold the entire house, family, future, and world together with both hands. And there is something strangely comforting about realizing that maybe that is what He was saying to Martha.

Because I don’t think God is asking me to become someone completely different. I think He’s teaching me what to do with woman I already am. The woman who loves deeply. The woman who serves. The woman who speaks her mind. The woman who occasionally gets overwhelmed because she has tried to carry too much. The woman who brings her questions straight to Jesus. And underneath all of those questions, somehow, still says: I believe.

So maybe I’m Martha. And maybe that isn’t such a bad thing after all.

Listen to the song that goes with this post.