My life revolves around lists. I live for the momentary euphoria of accomplishment when I check an item off. And it’s probably because I can’t remember as much as I used to after having four kids.
But I think I’m failing at “firsts”. Those top-of-the-list tasks. Thirds, elevenths, and thirty-sevenths seem to yell louder than the steady voice of my first love. This season has felt like a tug-of-war between what I should do and what I really need at the core level.
My family thrives when we can get good rhythms going. But at times, our schedule is so packed it’s hard to grasp for them. In those moments, I have to intentionally walk myself through what I need to do first to set a good foundation for the day.
Water, worship, reading the Word, working out (my life also revolves around alliteration apparently)—those are the morning goals I am easily distracted from when I see a mountain of work to do. Usually in the form of laundry unending. Or in the ever-multiplying crumbs on the floor that could feed five thousand. Didn’t I just sweep the floor?
Sometimes I catch my husband chuckle as I flit around the house muttering to myself, heading to one room to change the washer only to whip around saying, “Water, Jenny. Drink water.”
In moments of weariness, that struggle is stronger. Those feelings of fatigue should make me long for my Savior’s feet, to drink from a cup that never runs dry. But the rhythms that should be first and foremost get set aside for easy comfort. Then I wonder why my margins are thin, why instead of being buffered against the wind, I feel buffeted by it.
I’ve discovered this in the most inconvenient ways. I’ve been strangely emotional, and the slightest change has brought about reactions that leave me confused. I’m not one to shy away from tears, but I don’t think they are meant to happen while baking muffins. Or at weddings, when someone comes to say hi and, instead of a coherent hello, you cry.
A tipping point of sorts.
In these moments I find solidarity with Martha in Luke 10. The queen of hospitality. Always about the business of feeding her guests, but this day it happened to be Jesus and his disciples. What was a normal occurrence for her, this time left her flustered. Maybe at that moment, her capacity had been met; she was dealing with emotional undercurrents, and she’d had it with her sister shirking her responsibilities.
She was overwhelmed by all the other parts of her list instead of enamored by the one who should have been the first and last of it, forgetting to feed herself before she fed others. Perhaps, like me, her margins were razor thin and she just couldn’t hold in her frustration.
We know her eyes and heart were averted from his gaze, at least momentarily, based on the response of Jesus. He highlighted her issue, but gently pointed her to the solution.
And Jesus answered and said to her, ‘Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her’ (Luke 10:41–42 NKJV).
Choosing well is not just the top point on our list that we check off and move on from. Choosing Jesus first, and always, is our anchor, our foundation, and the cadence to which our heart must beat. Abiding in him is essential to our well-being. Jesus our Savior brings solutions to a myriad of problems; he’s our sustaining sanity in the trenches of our weeks.
Choosing well is not justifying my busyness when he draws me, but lifting my weary eyes to his face as he calls my name.
Jenny, Jenny, you are distracted and worried about many things, but have you so quickly forgotten that just one thing is needed? That one thing is me and, unlike your temporary comforts, I will not be taken from you. So don’t turn your gaze from me.
The self-care that I seek is submitting to the one who truly knows what it is that will eternally feed me.
Your words were found, and I ate them, And your word was to me the joy and rejoicing of my heart; For I am called by Your name, O Lord God of hosts (Jeremiah 15:16 NKJV).
That’s my desire even on days when my body doesn’t want to do what my heart longs for. When late nights turn to late mornings and to-do lists are eager to push prayerful moments out the door.
It’s me choosing to feast first on his words, his thoughts, his presence. Gathering the words that will stoke the joy for rejoicing. And then from the overflow of that good part, I’ll have something to feed those around me. Without sacrificing my well-being or emotional health in the process.
How are your margins in this season? In what areas do hear Jesus gently calling your name, beckoning you to choose well?
Thank you so much Jenny! As a fellow list maker and lover of checking items off, I totally understand.😊 Thanks for the reminder of “choosing to feast FIRST”. It is huge!
Hello fellow list-sister! You are so welcome! We certainly do need the reminder to keep our eyes focused and not distracted by everything else :).
I am stumbling into this post several months later but it really resonated with me. My margins have become tight again and I am sorry for it. I had a lot of doors slammed shut against my will last year and it created a lot of margin in my life, margin that I reveled in alongside the grief..a blessing in the storm.. I said I wanted to make sure that I kept some of those rhythms and margin as I reconstructed a new normal from the mess. I’ve been telling myself the hustle of the present moment is only temporary, but reading this reminded me that I have a habit of filling to the brim and I need to take a breath and choose well.
Hello Callie! I’m so glad you stumbled onto the blog post and even as I re-read it, its a reminder to me as well! It’s so easy to fill the spaces that God allows circumstances to empty. I pray that the Lord continues to speak to all of us about choosing well…and breathing deep. Thank you for sharing your journey and thoughts!