Last year, 2022, was a Martha Year. Lots to do – the gamut of wedding celebrations, the birthday celebrations, the holiday celebrations, the to-dos in the daily. Kiddos moving out and diving into closets, decluttering, shifting the furniture around. Helping with the grandkids. Even 5 a.m. workouts to rebuild strength and learning to cook differently for healthier choices – and the to-dos of the daily – within the home, within the family, within the community.

January came. . . and I felt as though God were telling me to, “Stop. Sit down. Spend time with me.”

Stopping doing is something that isn’t easy for me. Maybe it’s not easy for you, too. I don’t think it was easy for Martha, either.

“’Martha, my beloved Martha. Why are you upset and troubled, pulled away by all these many distractions? Mary has discovered the one thing most important by choosing to sit at my feet. She is undistracted, and I won’t take this privilege from her.’” ~ Luke 10:41-42

The Martha within battled the Mary within. . ..

I felt that battle building through November and December.

I’d figuratively been bumping along nicely in the rackety motorcar of my life – nicely meaning trying to keep to the schedule, yet losing ground, not quite sure how to organize the threads of my life that refused to be organized.

I rather felt like Mole riding along with Toad at the wheel, hoping somewhat frightfully that we would not end up in a ditch, yet feeling as though the possibility were imminent. I wanted nothing more than to get off Toad’s wild ride (which, of course, was of my own making).

I could smell a warning in the air. Vigilance was required, and the signs weren’t heeded, something around the corner, something I couldn’t identify, would overcome my everyday ordinary. That smell, like the metallic smell heralding snowfall or the barometric pressure right before a summer storm squeezing sinuses into what my grandmother referred to as, “The Headache” where you couldn’t think bright thoughts, apply joy in completing even the simplest tasks, leaving one feeling as though they’d never be cheerful again.

Something was afoot. My American work-ethic of Go-Go-Go, Do-Do-Do was at an impasse with God’s plans for my time. God was nudging me in ways that I’ve come to recognize. . .. and this time it was not just to stop. Not just to rest. It really wasn’t an all-about me STOP, though the stopping would do me good. I was to stop meeting Him among the word crafting, the deadlines, the ideas, the photography. . . to stop chasing stories down the rabbit warrens of my mind and meet Him only in His places, in His word, in His stillness . . . with Him. It was all about Him. Only by meeting His terms could I experience the full privilege that comes sitting undistracted at His feet: a Mary Season.

Except for my 6 weeks convalescence from spinal fusion surgery, I don’t think I’ve ever just stopped. . . and not felt guilty. I’ve caught scraps and pieces of the world’s kind-of rest – a long tub soak with a good book, brain restoration moments (a nap), knitting a long row, a quiet moment with a cup of Wild Apple Ginger Tea. Enough scraps and bits to make a crazy quilt of peace probably. The world’s kind of being still – Not God’s kind of being still.

The choices? To pull the rackety motorcar of my soul off the road, turn off the engine and STOP with Him, or 2) continue on.

Friends, do you really think I had two Best Choices here? Most likely, if I’d continued onward, I would have found myself stopped in a figurative ditch a little further down the road into January. Life has taught me Father knows best, even if what He’s asking me to do is daunting.

By the time I’d gingerly exited this road, switched off the engine, and handed Him the keys, I was already planning Be-Still-and-Stop-with-Him-Time. It’s comforting to know that He knows I’m a slow learner sometimes – and has plans to help me meet the task He has planned.

Within the first week, my IG account was hacked. Weeks were spent trying to retrieve the account and answering messages from friends, “Did you send me a request? Do you want me to vote for you? Are you selling cryptocurrency? I came down with my second and then my third bout of some kind of cold bug that came with The Headache and left me wandering around in a Brain Fog. I really wanted to crawl into bed and never come out – but the everyday ordinary responsibilities had to be met – the grandkids, dinner, housekeeping, sock matching but with less socks. I missed how I met God in the story warrens, the words, the playdates with my camera.

I looked to God in the bleakness of a no-snow grey January and asked, “How is this stopping?” But I know enough now to trust. To sit still. He’s got a plan.

My grandmother’s harness bells chimed one morning as I pulled open the front door, for what I cannot remember. But standing there, looking out, I felt these words in my spirit, “It’s time.”

“It’s time” – that’s what my spirit man heard as I stood at my open front door. He meant on the inside, but I couldn’t put words to it on the outside. It made my heart suddenly glad. Something seismic seemed to have happened to my within man. It was like when Jesus said to the invalid, “Arise. Take up thy pallet and walk.”

My Great physician had been healing the broken places within my soul for decades. The time had come to “Arise. Take up your pallet and walk” (John 5:8) – both literally and figuratively. Maybe to complete walking out the plan God designed for me before I got broken.

Or maybe instead of the great physician, it is a moment likened to the potter who “treats breakage and repair of a vessel as part of the history of an object, using a mixture of gold and silver,” making the object stronger, more beautiful, more valuable than before as in Kintsugi (Kintsugi: The Japanese Art of Embracing Your Imperfections). There comes a moment when the vessel is once again ready to resume the life work for which is was designed. It was time to rise up out of The Rebuilding of The Broken Places.

It was time to leave the inward places and turn my focus outward to God’s places.

. . . There has to come a point in relationship with God after experiencing His mercy, healing and attention, that our soul thoughts turn away from self and turn to others who suffer and care for them as He cared for us. Still, I couldn’t even put that into words in January.

I took the advice from “The Way of a Pilgrim,” and prayed, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner.” It is a Praying Constantly prayer – for in the car, when I’m cooking, when the little thought foxes creep into my mind, to tempt me to take back what I’ve handed over to God. Those little thought foxes are peace, faith and trust stealers. The Jesus prayer sent them scattering out of my mind!

At the end of January, Doing and Behindness scratched at the door.

Still, No words.
No ideas.
No photo inspirations
No chasing ideas down the rabbit warrens of my mind.

Nothing. Nothing is worth writing without Him. Nothing is worth photographing without Him. The rabbit warrens aren’t safe places without Him. The Mary Season continued.

Then came Tuesday, February 14. I woke up. I prayed the Jesus prayer. I picked up and dropped off the grandkiddos at school, drove around the neighborhood surrounding our church, praying – and the words came, “Let the water’s rise” – and a prayer with it.

Wednesday, I read the following – and it put into words what “It’s time” spoke to my inside man in January, but what I couldn’t translate into words: “The days of you coming to the altar because of your own sin and personal battles is coming to a close. Like a locust that sheds its skin and leaves it abandoned, you are stepping out of the past, the struggles of the past, the identity of the past, and the bondages of the past! You are stepping into a season where your time at the altar will be one of supernatural download, prophetic assignment, heart readiness, and divine release.” ~ Scott Reece, Pastor

Yes, there is “a time to keep silent, and a time to speak” (Ecclesiastes 3:7). When God’s in the silence, there is mercy in it. There is His privilege in it.

When God sends out a Mary-Drawing-Near call, there is peace in it.

“Peace I leave with you;
my peace I give you.
Not as the world gives, do I give it to you.
Let your hearts not be troubled,
neither let them be afraid.”
~ John 14:27, ESV

Sometimes God has things He wants to instruct us. When Doing, Behindness, and The Voice of Judgement scratch at the door, God’s hedge and permission intercede for us when we make the choice to draw near.

What started out as an Interior Martha and Mary Battle became a Mary Season that has heralded change. I don’t know exactly what that change will look like, but I am stirred up with expectation, as though I were starting a job for which I was designed, for which I have the favor of the one who created the position for me.

 “Now as they were traveling along, Jesus went into a village. A woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat down at the Lord’s feet and kept listening to what he was saying. But Martha was worrying about all the things she had to do, so she came to him and asked, “Lord, you do care that my sister has left me to do the work all by myself, don’t you? Then tell her to help me.” The Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha! You worry and fuss about a lot of things. But there’s only one thing you need. Mary has chosen what is better, and it is not to be taken away from her.” ~ Luke 10:38-42.

Remember Me Monday: #86 & Link-up

“I’ll make a list of God’s gracious dealings,
    all the things God has done that need praising,
All the generous bounties of God,
    his great goodness to the family of Israel—
Compassion lavished,
.    love extravagant.”
~ Isaiah 63:7, The Message

In the Old Testament, God repeatedly, quietly and loudly, tells his children, “You have forgotten me!”  (Jeremiah 3:32, Ezekiel 22:12, to name a few). It’s a heart cry from a father to a child who has forgotten all the love, all the saving, helping, little and big blessings – and it leaves me stunned when I realize our Father, the creator of the universe, who knows things I cannot begin to fathom, who authors storylines that leave me amazed, delights in all of us so much, He cries out, “Remember Me.”

While every day is a Remember God Day, I am inviting you to join me on Monday mornings to come by and remember what God has done for you, for your family. Maybe God sent a cardinal darting out in front of you, as if to tell you, “I’m here,” or broke a child’s fever after you laid it all down at His feet in a 2 a.m. bedside vigil. Maybe He stood with you in the wait of a prayer sent out, or brought someone you loved to Christ. Maybe He healed your broken heart, gave your courage, or you gave Him your dreams as a love offering only to have Him give them back in an unimaginable way. Maybe God helped you survive to bedtime after a crazy Monday, or forgive yourself for missing it with your kiddos –– Whatever it is, let’s Remember Him. . . in a “Remember Me Monday” love letter.

“My mouth will tell of your righteousness,
Of your salvation all the day long,
Though I know not its measure.
I will come and proclaim your mighty acts, O Sovereign Lord”
~ Psalm 71:15-16.

Let us delight in Him by telling the  stories of what He’s done!  If you wrote a blog post remembering what He’s done for you, join the linky. If you didn’t but still want to praise Him for what He’s done – write it in the comment section. Then visit a comment before or after yours! One of the beautiful things about the blogging community is the relationships it builds!

Rules?  Write long or short, a list or a story, include photos or not. Just Remember Him and what He has done, and let the gratitude of your heart guide you. Let’s make Monday so Rejoice, that the goodness of God spills into the rest of the week!

Places I’m Linking at This Week:
 Inspire Me Monday,   Instaencouragements, 
Legacy Link-Up, Recharge Wednesday
 Faith on Fire, Tell His Story, Grace&Truth
Let’s Have Coffee Wednesday Celebrate Your Story
Scripture&Snapshot, Sunday Scripture Blessing