Today is a Martha Day.
For those of you who are not in our Wed. night Bible study, a Martha Day is a day when, like Martha of Bethany, I find myself cumbered with much serving. My brother has three appointments, my niece needs transportation from Gray to Jonesborough this aftertoon, and, of course, we have church tonight. BUT I’M NOT TEACHING TODAY! I breezed by Lifeway this morning and picked up my personal copy of Victoriously Frazzled because Barb Williams is going to teach that series, and I’m going to learn how to go from a Frazzled Female to a Victoriously Frazzled Female. Go Barb!
This could be a long process. I don’t even know what victoriously frazzled looks like. I do know that ever since I got my last haircut, I’ve had perpetual bedhead. I think it is the way the hairdresser did the layers, but I cannot get this mop to lie down flat. So, if I come to church tonight looking like I’ve had my finger in a wall socket, it is not because I am a frazzled female. It is because I am getting a new hairdresser. And maybe a bottle of mousse. And maybe a new kind of shampoo. Mother wanted something that gives body to your hair, so she tried “Tousle Me Softly,” by Herbal Essences. As far as “tousled” goes, it lives up to the name. “Softly,” not so much. So between the layers and the shampoo that softly tousles me, I look like my hair dryer shorted a wire and shocked me silly.
As I was saying, this is a Martha Day (and a bad hair day), but I’ve had my daily reminder of what’s important. I’m sitting (as I type) in the hospital cafeteria waiting on radiology to finish taking some MRI pictures of a loved one. This is not a crisis; it’s just a follow-up. Someone else in the hospital is having a crisis, though, because they just called Code Blue on 2700.
I find moments like this hard to pray for. Of course, the family (whoever they are) need prayer, but what about the person who is standing on the edge of eternity? I’m reminded of John Donne’s line about the Last Judgment, “Tis late when we are there to ask abundance of Thy grace.” Whatever preparations we make for eternity should be made when we are in good health, and as God gives us opportunity to draw near to Him. When we are sick or troubled or anxious about the unknown journey ahead of us, we want to know that God’s presence is already there with us as it has been all along.
Of course, God can hear the prayers of those who turn toward Him at the last minute. He loves to show mercy, and sometimes He uses illness to compel us to take it. But when I am in my last moments on this earth, I want Jesus sitting next to me as an old and dear friend, and not coming in the door as the new doctor I’m trying in a last ditch effort.
I also want to know that I did the work He created me to do. I want to know that as packed and frazzled and wearying as my days could sometimes be, that I honored him by getting things done, that I didn’t just ease myself out from under one burden after another – and I’ve dodged a few in my time. Yes, I need the Mary moments to sit at his feet, but I also want to know that there were times when I got under a burden with Him (we so often imagine that it’s the other way around), and did the impossible things that only God could make possible.
I want to know that it was worth the journey, frazzled hair and all!