The To Do List Trap

"You are not defined by what you do."

I keep repeating this phrase to myself, over and over. As I write my to-do list. As I cross things off. As I realize how little I have crossed off today.

"You are not defined by what you do."

It's no easy task trying to uproot the lie that society has planted in my heart and mind-- that I am defined by the things I do; that I am my achievements. I know deep down that I am so much more than that, but that doesn't make weeding out these thoughts easy. All too often I find myself disappointed at the end of the day by my lack of productivity. I could literally sit for an hour beating myself up, thinking "I should have done this...." or "I can't believe I didn't even get that done."

"You are not defined by what you do."

On the other hand, how often do I sit at the end of the day and ask myself how I served God that day? How often do I take time to thank Him for simply giving me another day to live and breathe and love those around me? New life goal:  spend less time worrying about my to-do list, and spend more time focusing on how I can love more and really make the most of each day I am given.

‎"...God is "realistic." His grace does not operate on our imaginings, idealsm or dreams. It works on reality, the specific, concrete elements of our lives. Even if the fabric of our everyday lives doesn't look very glorious to us, only there can we be touched by God's grace. The person God loves with the tenderness of a Father, the person He wants to touch and transform with His love, is not the person we'd have liked to be or ought to be. It's the person we are. God doesn't love "ideal persons" or "virtual beings." He loves actual, real people. He is not interested in saintly figures in stained glass windows, but in us sinners."
Jacques Philippe, Interior Freedom

"This is another aspect that we risk losing in the noisy and dispersive world in which we live: the ability to pause and look deeply into ourselves and to reinterpret the thirst for the infinite that we bear within us, that impels us to go further and to refer to the One who can quench it."  

Pope Benedict XVI

Mary Anxiety

While sitting in adoration with my husband last Friday night I discovered something about myself: I'm afraid to be Mary. 

Let me explain. H and I went to adoration last weekend to intercede for a youth retreat that some friends of ours were leading. We had signed up for a holy hour and had nothing else planned for the rest of the evening. While we were praying several of the teenagers who were participating in the retreat came into the chapel to pray as well. We had been praying for about 45 minutes when all 6 or so of the high schoolers suddenly got up and left. H and I were the only two people left praying. My heart jumped. I was unable to focus. "What if no one else comes?" I thought anxiously. "What if we are here for more than our hour?"

I know what you're thinking (or at least I know what I think looking back on it now), "How ungrateful! Going to adoration, being in the presence of Jesus is a privilege, not something to be dreaded." We didn't even have anything we had to do or anywhere we had to be afterward. Even then I wondered at my feeling of anxiety, but I remained anxious nonetheless, until the person who had signed up for the next holy hour arrived 5 minutes later.

Why did I react that way? Why have I reacted the same way in the past but never really noticed it?

I'm afraid to be Mary. I'm afraid to give of my self; in this case, I'm afraid to give Jesus my time.

There's something really precious about time. I've been realizing that more and more. We don't get time back; once it's gone, it's gone. Just thinking about it makes me want to scoop up all my time and save it away in a jar!

But if I did that, what would my life be like? Time kept to oneself isn't precious, it's worthless. I simply couldn't live that way. 

Jesus invites me to give up my time, my life, so that I can truly live:

"For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it." [Matthew 16:25]

I try so hard to grasp onto things that are naturally passing away, like time. If I stop grasping and start giving freely, then I can really experience every moment, really live every moment.

I'm going to start by giving 5 more minutes of time in prayer every day. I want to be Mary for those 5 minutes, lovingly giving my time away.

Jesus speaks to Martha and Me

While trying to "get inspired" for my second post, I decided to go back to the Source and read the story of Martha and Mary again, this time, in Latin (yes, I'm kind of a nerd).

Reading it this time, Jesus' first words to Martha really stood out to me:

"Martha, Martha, sollicita es et turbaris erga plurima." [Luke 10:41]

Martha, Martha, you are anxious and confused about the greatest number of things.

My translation was formed by the word choices that resonated with me the most.

 The word turbaris made the big impact on me. It placed in my mind the image of a boat or a ship on a turbulent sea. It reminded me of the way my heart often feels-- out of control, tossed in the winds of my worries and fears.

The meaning of the word plurima surprised me. Most translations simply take it to mean "many things," however, I discovered it can have more weight than that. It can mean: "most/great number of things; greatest amount; very much; the most possible;"

I get the feeling that Jesus is speaking to something much deeper than Martha's surface worries about the house being clean or there being enough food. He tells her she is worried about more than many things, she is worried about the greatest number of things. I think He is looking past her outward worries and gazing straight into her heart, truly seeing her most intimate worries and insecurities.

Jesus is saying something very profound about the heart of a woman when he speaks to Martha here. He is noting the fact that we women can worry about an infinite number of things all at once. So many of our worries are justifiable, and we so often worry out of love for others. Jesus isn't belittling any of the things she is worried about, but He is re-grounding her in the Truth, that is, that "only one thing is necessary." That one thing, I believe, is Himself.

This new realization has brought me so much peace in such a short amount of time (the time it has taken me to get to this point in the post, actually)!

Does this shed some light on your "Martha" struggle? Thoughts? Insights? Questions? Share them in the comments.

Peace to your hearts,
-M

Inspiration.

^"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]

This story has been on my heart for the longest time. I don't think I realized just how much it weighed on my heart until  heard this song by Audrey Assad this past year:

All of the lyrics are amazing, but the ones that spoke to me the most are the opening lines and the verse that follows: 
"I'm Mary and I'm Martha all at the same time;
I'm sitting at His feet and I'm dying to be to be recognized.
Why is it easy to work and hard to rest sometimes,
Sometimes, sometimes..."

Even listening to this song now, months after I heard it the first time, I am haunted by those words. They resonate so deep inside of me that they feel like the words of my own heart crying out. 

I, like many other Catholic women (I suspect, and Audrey confirms), feel the constant inward struggle between "Martha" and "Mary." Like Martha, I am caught up in the worries of this world, but I long to be Mary, peaceful, carefree, Mary, sitting at the feet of the Master, soaking in His love and attention. It seems like it should be so simple to let go of my concerns and sit next to Mary; but, unable to let go, like Audrey, I ask "why is it easy to work and hard to rest sometimes?"

My intention for this blog is to more closely examine that question and my struggle with being "Mary and Martha all at the same time."
I need all the insight I can get into this personal, and yet universal struggle, and so, sisters, I invite you to join me in the Martha & Mary Project.