I Don't Always Have to be a Martha (not Stewart)

"As they continued on their journey [Jesus] entered a village where a woman whose name was Martha welcomed him.  She had a sister named Mary who sat beside the Lord at his feet listening to him speak.  Martha, burdened with much serving, came to him and said, 'Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me by myself to do the serving?  Tell her to help me.'  The Lord said to her in reply, 'Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things.  There is need of only one thing.  Mary has chosen the better part and it will not be taken from her"  (Luke 10:38-42).

Beginning a blog about my busy home life and I was reminded of a book, Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World, which reflects on that passage.  Wow.  Am I becoming too much of a Martha and not enough of a Mary?

Let me illustrate.  About a month ago, we invited our neighbors over for a Saturday night dinner.  They've been great neighbors and we wanted to thank them for being so welcoming in our first few weeks in our new house.  Simple but extremely fresh meal, we promised.  I made focaccia bread, threw together a simple tomato sauce, and had a bottle of Italian wine breathing.  Then I took out the pasta maker.  Since our previous experiments with it had turned out well, I figured I could entertain guests with fresh homemade pasta.  I didn't use enough flour between rollings.  As a result, it tore and clumped and made a general mess.  Mark stepped in and tried to make sense of the chaos I had created.  I'm sure our neighbors heard me yelling at my wonderful husband minutes before they knocked on the door.  I should have realized that our neighbors are so Southern in their generous habits that I could have served them shoelaces covered in tomato sauce and they would have not only eaten it, but praised it.  I should have realized that Mark was trying to help me rather than hinder me.  I should have realized that in the end, the meal wasn't about the actual food as much as the fellowship.  But I failed to hear God whispering in my heart, "Carrie, Carrie, you are anxious and worried about many things."  I was certainly behaving like a Martha.

The more I've read this passage in recent years, the more I sympathize with Martha.  In her two simple sentences, so much is going on behind her words.  Especially if you're a woman, don't you hear what she isn't saying?  "Lord, the first loaf of bread came out a little lop-side, so that had to be started again.  And the linens had to be pressed three times before they were as crisp as you deserve.  The lamb wasn't roasted right, the wine was only common wine, and don't even get me started on the cheese.  That useless Mary doesn't even seem to notice that I have so much to do.  Don't you all know that I could use some help? Why should I have to ask for it?"  Martha is perhaps the precursor to Martha Stewart.  Perfection expected of everyone and everything.  Martha's problem is not so much what she is doing, but why she is doing it. By contrast, Mary recognizes the moment for what it really is.  Martha not only is missing her chance but is begrudging her sister for not following in her lead and do all that "is essential". 

Am I becoming more like Martha or like Mary?  Ten years ago, I would have found that question laughable.  Surely, my mother and my sister never thought I would be writing a blog about domesticity.  I was definitely the youngest sister, letting everyone else pick up my slack for me.  Unlike Mary, I wasn't nobly doing this to spend time with God.  No, no.  If you have a younger sibling you suspect that's not what they are doing.  If you are a younger sibling, you know.   Fast forward a few years.  I was in ministry.  Sitting quietly with the Lord wasn't just something I enjoyed, it was practically a job requirement.  My life was a nice balance between being in action and service and having time for reflection and prayer. 

So what happened?  Well, I had a family.  As the neediness of young children pushed aside my own wants, I've let it become my excuse for not always following my own needs.  Finding quiet time with God has been replaced by other chores I believe ought to be done.  I do believe that what I do for my family is important.  And what I do can be expressions of service and love.  But still I struggle to find the balance.  To choose the better part, in each situation. 

I need to continually question my attitudes: is what I do an act of love and grace or are my motives more selfish?  Are they instead ones of self-seeking praise, of guilt, or pride?  Do I begrudge others, especially those closest to me, their own better parts, nagging about what ought to be done?  Do I recognize Christ calling me to silence or am I letting my mind be filled by the noise of my dailiness? 

How do you keep your life in balance, between action and contemplation?  Between serving and listening?

"If You Can't Control a Sewing Machine, You Can't Control a Car"

My mother, like many mothers long before her time, insisted I learn to sew. But unlike those old-fashioned ancestors, it had nothing to do with preparing wedding linens to catch me a man. Her reason was much more life and death. I was not allowed anywhere near the driver's seat of a vehicle until I could sew.

It's actually brilliant. I will probably do the same with my kids. My mom's thoughts were that a sewing machine would teach me how to use a foot pedal. I think her words were something along the lines of, "I would rather you crash a sewing project than crash a car." And so I learned to sew. Not well, but enough to eventually be taken out for a driving lesson. I don't even remember what that first sewing project was. It's possible I did nothing but running stitches all over a scrap of cloth. But the lesson apparently sunk in, enough that I had the basics down when I again sat at a machine more than a decade later.

And as for the driving? Well, my husband says I have a tendency to drift to the right. I will have to look into if my sewing does the same.

What do I mean by a domestic diva?

I suppose I should start at the beginning. Why the title and what does it mean? Well, "I'm addicted to Martha Stewart" seemed a little obsessive. And my cake blog was just simply going to make me extremely fat. So a fresh start with a bigger picture seemed in order.

For the last three+ years, I've been learning how to be a stay-at-home-mom. Going from being a youth minister, a very busy career, to being a SAHM has been a huge change. Not that there isn't plenty to keep me busy. I've moved four times since our wedding, added two kids to the picture, and most days am just trying not to lose my voice, temper or sanity. But other days, the monotony of it can be frustrating. Those days, I go to my craft closet, my favorite idea websites, or just call my mom for inspiration. Those days, I try to work on the art of being the queen of my domain, a domestic diva.

What is a domestic diva? I want to be clear that I don't mean I wish away the hard work of women in the past century. A domestic diva is NOT a victim, of time, position, or male society. She is a servant in the great sense of the word, as one who serves her family and friends for the sake of love. And her home is the medium through which she serves that family best.

Am I a domestic diva then? No, certainly the "I want to be" becomes clear here. I struggle constantly to bear the little trials of my daily-ness with grace. I want my family to feel that surely all I do for them is out of love and yet so often my own pride gets in my way. So I pray and I learn and I try again (after I yell and I cry and I feel silly for doing it, of course).

So here I document the outward shows of this inner struggle, the physical signs of something more spiritual and less material, although it perhaps will appear otherwise. These are my little projects for my family, my experiments in baking, cooking, sewing, crafting and very often, my reflections on them and life in a larger sense.