When I read the story of Mary and Martha, I always thought I was Mary, sitting adoringly at the feet of Jesus. Now I’m sure that I’m definitely Martha. I don’t want to be, but I am. There are two interesting passages about Mary and Martha in Scripture: the one where the sisters are hosting a dinner party for God’s only Son (imagine the stress that event would inspire in the heart of any woman if you will) and the second when their brother Lazarus died, and Jesus showed up for the wake. When Jesus comes to dinner, Martha is a nervous wreck. I know just how she feels. When I am having guests at our house, my cleaning genetic kicks in. I dust – sometimes even lifting objects up to dust underneath them. I dust off my recipe books and cook something better than Hamburger Helper. Sometimes – because I am so stressed about everything, I barely focus on my guests. I forget to have fun. Martha was like that. In this passage, Jesus is over to dinner and she is running around like sh