Inwardly, I roll my eyes every time I hear: "Make me a Mary in a Martha world." I know they say it because of that one time Mary chose the better thing and camped out at Jesus's feet. I would've done the same (as you well know), but as much out of laziness as righteousness. The difference between you and Martha is only this: you wouldn't have complained.
I think of all the times I left you to do the work, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the times I referred to you as anal-retentive, and I'm sorry, too, for all the times I gave you attitude because you asked me to pick something up or put it away. I'm even sorry for all the times I rolled my eyes at you, but I have to say: at this point, I think there might be something wrong with my eyes? because--no matter how hard I try--I can't seem to get them to stay down where they belong.
I'm a champion eye roller, as it turns out.
Truth is: I'm sorry I don't have more Martha (Sherry) in me. Even after all the waiting tables and tending bar, I suck at multitasking. Also, I choose to expend my energy adventuring. Not cleaning. I prefer a ringless tub but can't seem to make myself scrub the ring out. I fear it grieves you; still, I can't seem to make myself scrub the ring out.
It's a mystery to me: how you did what you did and do what you do. Only it's not, because I know (for almost 60 years) you haven't stopped. You're the Energizer Bunny, and I'm tired (and awed) just watching.
But this is the other thing I wanted to tell you, Mom, about your being Martha. Even if your brother had died, you would've gone out to greet Jesus. Like Martha, you would've followed up your: "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died," with: "But I know, that even now, whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God will give it thee."
I wouldn't have. I would've been despondent like Mary. I wouldn't have displayed the hope of Martha; I would've cracked and crashed. I would've caused Jesus to groan in His spirit.
I've done it so many times.
I just wanted to tell you: I think you're fantastic just the way you are. I'm so proud to be your daughter (even though I'm a big, hot hoopty mess), and I'm so glad to be your sister in Christ, too. I love you.
(Click here to read my Mother's Day post from last year.)