Mary, Martha & Me by Sue Hobbs
Last night I dreamed the family had gathered
And we bustled about, full of busy-ness and worry,
Trying to get it right; trying to get it done on time --
Never quite sure what made us hurry.
And in the midst of the bustle and the bother we called life
Sat one who made no effort toward our goal.
I thought at once of Mary and the Martha that was me.
With a child on her lap, and a student at her knee,
With a tear in one eye and a sparkle in the other,
With a sightless vision of great clarity,
She was compelled to be Mary, not the Martha who was me.
Many months had passed since the word came down
That time was short, in case I wanted to come ‘round,
And my response, not at all like me,
Was to cry and wait and pray quite distantly.
And in the midst of the bustle and the bother of my life,
I sat with myself in the naked light
And thought again of Mary and the Martha who was me.
My poor excuses passed my lips and shamed my mind,
But when I stopped to feel and think, I would find
Only one real reason for not drawing near,
But instead of reaching from it, retreated farther into fear.
I blamed the bustle and the bother I call life
And sat on my hands in the cold, cruel light,
And longed to be like Mary, not Martha, not me.
Then, last night I dreamed that the family had gathered,
And while some bustled about, full of busy-ness and
worry,
I chose at last to seek the quiet center of the storm.
For a moment, I ignored the bustling bother I’ve called life
And sat with one compelled to see with a whole new
sight.
Yes, I sat with Mary and began to shed the Martha in me.
I took a child on my lap and a student to my knee,
And with a tear in one eye and a sparkle in the other,
I sought through visions of growing clarity
At last to be Mary, not the Martha who’d been
me.