Making a "Martha" a "Mary"

Susan J. Paul
Volume 23, No. 2

". . . But . . . but you just don’t understand! The carpets are blanketed with dog’s hair. The laundry basket is full. The bills are unpaid. I need milk and food for my husband’s lunches. The bed I am building remains half completed. I need to keep a better family history. ‘Write, write, write,’ they said at Women’s Conference, ‘thirty minutes a day at a minimum!’ Beds are waiting to be changed, and no one has cleaned up after the dogs outside.

"There are so many things I am supposed to do today. I always feel pressure to maintain order. I hate clutter, unironed clothes, dust bunnies, empty cupboards, and dog hair! Sister Brown left 600 passenger records for data extraction, but surely You see that I can’t spend today at the Family History Center!" 

I pause, still on my knees, waiting for the still small voice to acknowledge my lists, my busy schedule, my time commitments, my total frustration! I expect understanding. I expect relief from my commitment to work on family history. I had promised my son, who is working with me on two family lines, that I would send him genealogical information tomorrow. What was I thinking? The information he needs for tomorrow will take several precious hours of this busy day. 

Instead, I hear with painstaking clarity, And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things: But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.

There it is! Perfect Mary – she always gets the blessing! I, a Martha, get the chastisement! I dislike that scripture! Someone has to be a Martha! We are those who get the dirty work done. We are those who prepare meals, clean the house, care for our children, the neighbor’s children, and the children of working mothers. We serve as sources of transportation for everything: children, pets, groceries, rocks, firewood, and construction lumber! 

There are willing Marys, happy to sit and do the visiting, cheering the lonely with their words of encouragement, listening to the woes of the sick. Guilt haunts me when I do not visit those whom I know are lonely. I need to offer the elderly sister in our ward a ride to the store. I have been a widow; I know widows need sisters, companionship, understanding, and love. Because I have always suffered from chronic illness, I could offer empathy, encouragement, and hope to those women. But, please, Lord, do not ask me to be a Mary today!

The brethren have asked us to attend the temple at least monthly, exemplify excellence in our callings, and attend all preparatory meetings. Am I the only person running on a twenty-four hour clock? 

What about my needs? My heart – my very soul – aches to be an accomplished musician. Music makes me happy, uplifts, enriches, calms, and completes my life. When I overschedule my time and miss days of practicing the piano, my spirit droops. I need a commitment for at least two hours of practice each and every day.

I can never say, "I loved all nine volumes of The Work and the Glory!" I have scriptures in the bathroom, bedroom, car, and living room. Extra minutes find me reading Sunday School and Relief Society assignments or trying to follow the Prophet’s advice to read the Book of Mormon daily. When would I read one novel, let alone nine? 

I go to bed later and later and get up earlier and earlier. Still, there is no more time! 

I have done the simplify, organize, prioritize, chart, card, and envelope methods. I’ve dutifully taken notes as different Homemaking teachers have described methods to clean the house, organize the garage, prepare next month’s meal menus, fix dinner, do the laundry, grocery shop for only what is on your list, wash and wax the car, clean the yard, and mow the grass in only thirty seconds!

Almost daily someone asks, "How do you get so much done?" Conversely, I ask myself, "Do I have to accomplish this much every day?" My spirit, mind, and body cry for rest, peace, and relief from constant guilt for all I put off until tomorrow! Do other women have these daily internal conflicts? How do they handle them? 

Still kneeling, I pause to let my mind think of yet another way to rationalize. Still wanting my own way, I ask myself, ". . . Are there more questions?" No, my mind has become absolutely quiet! I have no more arguments. 

Not at all familiar with the sudden silence, a strange, nearly palpable, uneasiness comes over me. The total absence of sound is uncomfortable and foreign. A symptom of my kind of obsessive compulsiveness is that my mind uses a constant internal stimulus I call "chatter." Chatter processes, categorizes, and filters rapidly fired successions of ideas, plans, schedules – the lists my mind constantly produces. My daily list of things to do includes all my projects, whatever materials I need to do them, and patterns showing how to do them. Another list contains the names of those who may need me, for what, where, and when. More lists tell me where to go, what to read, what to study, and remind me what else I wanted to learn and who can teach me to master my quests. No matter where I am or what else I am doing, questions always arise – questions no one else even cares about. Why do ducks’ feet not freeze in the icy waters? Always, always, I find the answer to one question only to have another present itself. My mind cannot rest until I research and find satisfactory answers to my questions. The lists never really end!

Chatter quickly processes, accepts and re-routes schedules, actually reducing stress and frustration. Chatter even prioritizes memories without my conscious help. Memories that cause pain, destruction of my self esteem, or unleash unwanted tears are put in little boxes filed deep inside, seldom willingly opened. Beautiful memories of being loved, thoughts that nourish the soul, the names of books that stimulate growth and people who give encouragement, reminders of best friends, the sound of music, the smell of the ocean, the sight of trees, streams and skies, memories of animals I have loved and lost are left in the open – accessible, to be cherished again and again.

The chatter is always there – day and night. But never silence, never complete lack of stimuli!

Can this unfamiliar, absolute soundlessness, this lack of needing to fight back, be what it means to be ". . . humbled; ready to listen?" This consideration arouses my insatiable curiosity. Who demands this undivided attention? What power is capable of instantly stopping an unconscious lifelong pattern? How did the chatter stop? All that remains is a curious, clear mind, suddenly scared and much too quiet. Is there something I need to hear? Is my life about to change; or perhaps, the way I perceive living? 

Slowly, I hear again, ". . . And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things: But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken from her." For the first time I hear the verse without feeling scolded, chastised, hurt, and belittled! Listen again; hear as though the Savior is calling: "Martha – Martha . . . thou are careful and troubled about many things . . ."

He understands our bodies. He created them in the image of His own. The body must have cleanliness for health, food for nourishment, shelter from the elements, and a place to rest. He acknowledges Martha’s sacrifices to accomplish, to the best of her ability, what she considers daily chores. He perceives her concern. She feels unable to fulfill all her daily commitments. He is compassionate with her frustration. He knows she wants to listen to Him, to savor His words, but understands she has no one to help her prepare the meal.

Next, He says: But, one thing is needful. What is that one thing? 

Could it be putting Him first – above all else? 

Where are my priorities? When there is a choice, do I choose Him first? No, first I do my daily chores. If there is time – and I still have strength – then I follow the advice of the prophets to study, ponder, pray, and listen. Only when my chores are finished, am I able to serve others willingly. Am I honestly seeking first the kingdom of God? 

He explains to Martha, "Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her."

He is gently telling me to store up treasures in heaven. I cannot take my clean house, organized garage, and mowed yard when I am called home to report my earthly stewardship.

He is reminding me all that is temporal is temporary. The things we spend entire lives working for – our homes, furnishings, cars, and clothing – those are the same things we spend our time organizing, cleaning, or storing. Yet, all we have might be gone in the blink of an eye. Could I have shared more "things" and thus gained time for the "good part" Mary was getting? Am I living simply, that others may simply live? I live in the most prosperous yet wasteful country in the world. 

Perhaps this is what "softening your heart" means. I feel He understands the challenges I have with compulsive obsessive behaviors. He knows the insanity I feel when chaos, clutter, noise, and unfinished lists abide. My many sins were among those for which He atoned. My guilt for causing such great suffering has been present all my life. With those feelings, how can I accept the fact that He can still love me? 

He loves me now – enough to show me, in a way I can accept, that I am working too hard and relying wholly on myself. 

It took this frightening, deafening silence to teach me that. Because the chatter was no longer there, I could not rely on it to unconsciously make decisions for me. There was no way to process the incoming information without complete attentiveness to His speaking to my spirit. I had to listen. 

I think again of the Mary scripture, and this time, I feel no pain, only peace.

My level of commitment will rise. I can put the Savior first. I can follow through until my own decisions are made unconsciously. No longer will I weigh out which is more important. I know, now, that if I seek first the kingdom of God, all things will be added to me – maybe not in my time, but He will know when the time is right. 

Yes, Father I will do the Family History – today.

Yes, on the way home I will stop and visit Sister Bettina; I know she has not felt well. 

Yes, I will get the family history information in the mail in the morning, and I thank thee for a son who will give himself and his time to input the data. 

I know I will need better health and more strength to do chores later in the day, which means I have to get more rest.

I will consider dust a texture, spider web’s art work, and dog hair a protective coating to protect and help the carpet wear longer! 

I will work to make each session at the piano more productive. 

I will work more closely with the counselor to overcome the compulsive obsessive behaviors that have plagued my life forever. 

I will study the Atonement until I can learn to accept unconditional love.

I cannot promise to make all necessary changes immediately! We are talking a lifetime of habits! Each change will take time and conscious thought. 

Using my own desire and thy help, this Martha can and will become a Mary! 

We recently learned that, since writing this article, Susan J. Paul died from a massive heart attack. Her husband, Lenley, assured us that she would still want her article published in the paper. The mother of eight children, Susan played the organ and piano beautifully, did woodworking and other crafts, and won many prizes for her sewing. She lived in Goldendale, Washington.

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