A Gift for Mom! 🤍

I was reading a devotional a few weeks ago about Mary and Martha and I had a revelation, I am related to Martha! You know, the woman who invited Jesus into her home, only to run herself ragged trying to be the best hostess, and boldly questions Jesus as to why she had to work so hard. Ugh! Yes, I have been there. 

Sometimes I hold myself to such a high standard that I run myself ragged and then boldly approach Jesus and say, “I’m frustrated!” Was Martha wrong in wanting to serve and do a great job? I don’t think so. After all, we are called to serve one another with a joyful heart, however, it was how she went about it. Martha was trying to impress Jesus and it caused her to be burned out and bitter. That isn’t a great place to be.

This past year has been challenging, stretching, and glorious. I have come into my own and spread my wings in a variety of ways. I am not the same person I was a year ago, and I thank God for that. One thing I am learning is the fine art of delegation. The dreaded “D word.” Do you know how hard it is to delegate? It’s hard for me to say let alone do! Learning to delegate means that I have to be proactive, organized, and then give it over. That can be really hard to do, because, people will ultimately do things differently and that can stress you out. Sometimes the projects you delegate could turn out with unexpected wrinkles. Then the feelings of failure set in and you begin to over-analyze the whole situation. This could cause you to to snatch the project back and cling to it with an iron grip, thinking that it’s safer with you. You try to iron out the wrinkles with all your might but you end up making it harder than it has to be. Then finally you realize that you can’t do it all on your own and reluctantly delegate it again. The feelings don’t come from anywhere but yourself and the unattainable (ridiculous) status you hold yourself to. Does anyone know what this feels like? 

And what about Mary? She got it right when she saw the importance of prioritizing.

As I take a step back and look at my life, I realize that I have freedom in asking for help, for delegating. I am embracing my inner Mary and learning to let go of this invisible status of perfection, which isn’t attainable. Oh my goodness! Let me throw my hands into the air, and wave them around like I just don’t care! Can you hear the sigh of relief and see the weight lifted off my shoulders? It takes a little work to delegate and let others come along side of you to help you accomplish things, but the outcome is so much better than if you were to do it alone.

So I leave you with a little morsel of wisdom: embrace delegation, let others help, throw away the unattainable status of perfection, be yourself, stretch your wings, breathe, prioritize and enjoy sitting at the feet of Jesus. 

“Martha, Martha, you are troubled and worried about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her.” – Jesus (Luke 10:41,42)

 

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Jennifer Beck

Jennifer is someone who always has a smile to give! She enjoys writing about a variety of topics that woman can relate to and hopes to be an encouragement to others. She enjoys Mexican food, spending quality time with family and friends, watching musicals, traveling, and trying new recipes. Adventures have taken her to five different countries most of which were to serve others and share her faith in God. She now enjoys the good life in Nebraska and enjoys working with children. Creativity is another passion she has whether it's photography, painting, or crafting she is always seeing things from a unique perspective.

I Lost My Sight at 16—But It Wasn’t the End of My Vision

In: Faith
Cross and sunset

After my father shot me, I lay in a hospital bed, and my world went dark. I was 16 years old. The injury left me completely blind. But the darkness didn’t stop there. As my physical sight disappeared, something else came into focus—the depth of the wounds I had carried long before that moment, wounds I had never fully allowed myself to see. For years, I had learned how to survive without asking too many questions. I had learned how to minimize what hurt, how to explain things away, how to keep moving forward as if everything were normal. But...

Keep Reading

Ministry Starts Inside Your Own Four Walls

In: Faith
Family around a table

When people hear the word ministry, they often think of missionaries, or the pastor who preaches every Sunday, but in our home, ministry belongs to all of us—even our kids. Growing up, I didn’t think of myself as a ministry kid. Still, when my dad packed our old Astro for the summer and we all piled in, we were on mission. Each kid had a part to play in my dad’s evangelical magic shows (yes, you read that right!). My brother would juggle, my older sister sang, my middle sister flipped the projector slides that shone pictures of Jesus on...

Keep Reading

These Holy Small Things

In: Faith, Motherhood
Children sewing at machine

My 8-year-old-daughter has recently taken up sewing, to my simultaneous delight and chagrin. My delight because I too love sewing; my chagrin because her enthusiasm often outpaces my own abilities, namely, in the undertaking of tedious projects with no pattern. Take, for example, the cloth doll diaper we designed and stitched up together. Granted, the design was fairly basic to draw up and scale. But the minuscule nature of the work, both for my hands and head, was enough to throw me into existential questioning. It was one of those moments when you wonder how the sum of your life...

Keep Reading

Life Lessons from My Grown Children

In: Faith, Motherhood
Two women's hands on teacups

“Don’t limit a child to your own learning, for he was born in another time.” – Rabindranath Tagore Quietly communing with a loved one in the early morning hours is such an intimate and precious time. Visiting with one’s grown child when all is dark and still is one of life’s purest pleasures. I remember the conversation clearly. My daughter’s husband, small children, and father were all asleep as we whispered and chatted. She and I are both fidgeters by nature, unable to be still for long. This inner restlessness must be remedied, and we are compelled by biology to...

Keep Reading

My Prayer Is Simple Now: “I Believe; Help My Unbelief.”

In: Faith
Woman sitting by water

I have spent most of my life in faith. Not circling it or analyzing it from a distance, but inside it—learning its language before I even realized I was learning it, shaping myself around it in ways that felt as natural as breathing. I was raised in Christian Science, which is a very particular kind of faith. It’s not really about “believing” in the way most people think. It’s about understanding. Aligning your thoughts with what is ultimately true about God and reality. If you can understand rightly, you can be well. If you can see clearly, healing follows. So...

Keep Reading

Your Worth Is Not Someone Else’s To Measure

In: Faith, Living
Woman looking over canyon

Insecurity is something we all carry in one form or another. For me, it has probably always looked confident and outgoing from the outside. But internally, it can feel heavy, complicated, and exhausting at times. And when someone comes along whose behavior reinforces those insecurities, it amplifies what was already there. There was someone I had hoped to genuinely connect with, but it was clear from the start that the feeling wasn’t mutual. From the beginning, their wall was up. No matter how kind I tried to be or how carefully I showed up, it never came down. Their distance...

Keep Reading

Lord, Give Me Faith Like Hannah

In: Faith
Woman walking in field with hand in wheat

Hannah knew what it was like to feel forgotten. She often clutched her empty womb and thought Surely the Lord has forgotten me.  She knew the bitter sting of feeling isolated and alone. She knew the anguish of praying day after day after day and seeing no fruit, not even a bud, from her faithfulness. Hannah knew what it was like to feel like the weight of the world was on her, and her hope may have dwindled. Even those around her did not offer encouragement. Quite the opposite—they did their best to sow seeds of discouragement. Yet Hannah pressed...

Keep Reading

God Carries Me Through the Deep Waters of Change

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood
Woman at the beach as waves come in

“Ahhh!” My underwater scream garbled in my snorkel tube as the manta ray’s cavernous mouth swept a hand’s distance from my face. My fingers tightened around the surfboard until my knuckles ached. My arms trembled. I jerked my head side to side, searching for my daughters, Mia and Megan. Recent college graduates, they had joined me on one last mother-daughter vacation before launching their adult lives. They floated easily on the vibrant Hawaiian water, relaxed, trusting. I wanted to borrow their calm. Earlier, our guide had explained that the LED lights built into the surfboard attracted plankton the way college...

Keep Reading

Faith After a Rare Disease Diagnosis

In: Faith, Motherhood
Family smiling in posed photo

My pastor frequently speaks of “kid pain” and acknowledges there’s nothing like it. I can testify to that. After nine months of uncertainty and unexplained issues following the birth of our now 4-year-old daughter, Harlow, we finally received her diagnosis of Pyruvate Dehydrogenase Complex Deficiency (PDCD), a life-limiting mitochondrial disease with no cure and no FDA-approved treatments. It was heartbreaking. In moments like these, a parent can fall into complete desperation. You go through a range of emotions almost too fast to name: fear for your child’s life; anxiousness about how much time you’ll get with them; overwhelming grief. And...

Keep Reading

What If I Don’t Hear God’s Voice?

In: Faith
Woman with folded hands looking up

There have been many times over the years when I’ve heard others share stories of how the Lord spoke to them or gave them a sign. Seashells scattered along a sandy beach, numbered to represent how many children they would have. A quiet walk in the park, followed by a clear sense that another little one was coming. What a blessing, I think, when I hear and read their stories. I often wonder how much more faith they must have than I do—to know with such certainty that what they heard was truly God speaking. I listen, I smile, and...

Keep Reading