Page 159 of 312

Letting go gives a better grip

As one who lives with someone who looses things, the parables of the lost sheep/coin drive me batty. My rule-driven nature tells JJ, “if you just hang your keys on the key holder when you come in every day, you’d know exactly where they are.” Alas, people are not inanimate objects and tend to wonder on their own. 

But in reading about lost things this morning, I was prompted to ask my friend (who grew up on a sheep farm): can you trust the 99 not to scatter when you go chasing the one? My gut says yes… they’re such followers that the pack will stay together. Even when there are only 4 of them, you only have to wrestle one to lead it to the pen and the rest will follow. These are the lessons 4-H provides. 
Back to the 99. The story was in response to Jesus eating will a few individuals of ill repute. The religious folk didn’t take to it well. I think they wanted Jesus to be spending his dinnertimes with them. 
When I learned hebrew, the first verb that became a part of our exercises was shamar: to guard. We were always guarding. My teacher had a very integrated approach to learning language, so we even sang songs with shamar in all its forms (along with a killer alphabet song with some yiddish twang. Truly awesome). Who knew there was so much guarding going on, especially in the Hebrew world? 
But this parable seems to imply that shamar wasn’t the verb of choice because it was normal in all its forms (which is also true). Maybe humans have a shamar-ish nature. When a sheep goes astray, our reaction seems to be “lock down! Don’t let another one out!” 
But Jesus’ prerogative isn’t to guard but to chase. To seek, to find. He instructs us to ask and knock. When talking about the kingdom, there’s a lot of action; finding something and selling everything to buy it. His instructions include keeping when it comes to faith in relation to difficult times, but most everything else about his message is about loosing. Releasing. Or, in the words of David Crowder, “letting go gives a better grip.” 
 

A woman’s place is in the …

I find it appropriate that on the heels of Mothers Day, I find myself reading the ol’ Mary & Martha story. Jesus comes for a visit, Martha busies herself with preparing the creme puffs and coffee, meanwhile Mary gets comfy in the living room. (The story would get better if she were sitting on a cushy pillow. The nerve!)

I’ve heard the messages and sermons on how we ought not get caught up in the details. I currently find myself lacking sleep over a celebration I’m helping to host this weekend, getting eaten alive by details and unable to focus on the wonderful company I’ll keep. However, I’m not sure Luke’s story is focused on that. When Saturday arrives, the day will be the day and we’ll enjoy whatever comes of it. I think this passage is often used to heap a bit more guilt onto the shoulders of women who take pride in hospitality, the ones who make a mean cheesecake but then later feel ashamed that they don’t love Jesus enough because of it. 

I’ve taken to asking myself, “what about this story is so different that someone would think it would be noteworthy?” The unexceptional things rarely get written (especially when etching onto parchment, which was at a premium). And in cultures where hospitality takes higher priority, I’m not sure Martha’s time in the kitchen would be all that remarkable.

So perhaps instead of throwing Martha under the bus for doing what was common, we should think more about the uncommon. First: I don’t think it was normal practice for guests to delegate household responsibilities. So Martha’s attempt to get Mary into the kitchen causes pause. I’m not sure it’s just a whiny sister here… she was not just making a statement about uneven workloads. Actually, to draw the guest of honor’s attention to the fact probably indicates a significant attempt by Martha to degrade Mary. Not just for shirking dish duty, but for how she filled her time instead.

While I’m sure women were a part of Jesus’ discipleship chain, I’m not convinced they always had prime access. As I put this passage into the scheme of my understanding, I wonder if women were welcome, but not always prioritized. “Sure, you can join… after the silver is polished” type of thing. And though patriarchy is an easy target, we should leave room for the ways the culture influenced the empowerment women felt when it came to following Jesus. Mary might be remarkable because of her guts.

In any case, Mary threw custom out the window. Something about Jesus told her that they could order a pizza for dinner because this guy was more important. So much so, she crossed a room likely filled full of men anxious to here what Jesus had to say, wiggled herself into prime location and had a seat.

I wonder if the scuffle was not so much that Mary wasn’t in the kitchen, but rather she was in the place where she might not necessarily be welcome. She sat herself among people who perhaps didn’t invite her to take a seat.

And sweet little Martha, offered Jesus a chance to correct Mary and send her to where she belonged. How considerate. In essence, she’s saying “Jesus, you can tell her where to go.”

Jesus didn’t take the bait. Boundaries and classes and dividers and -isms were outside his agenda. Those majors were minors. “One thing is essential, and Mary has chosen it.”

everything I learned about motherhood, I learned from my…

Mentor, Judy M. She raised 2 of her own and 20+ on behalf of others who were adopting them, so she knows a thing or 2 about the chaos that comes from childhood. My favorite story: she wanted more than 2 kids; her husband Jack told her, “you don’t want more kids, you want more babies.” Their compromise: fostering. Win-win. Win. 

Friends, Wendy and Toni. Watching them raise their broods of 3 and 5 very well adjusted, courteous, manner-filled, happy and loving teenagers inspired me to take notes. What’d they do? Loved them. Showed them their value. They didn’t give their kids everything they wanted, but gave them more than they asked for. And they loved their husbands. 
BFF, KLR. She may not have children of her own, but she loves the little buggers and knows a thing or two about how to bring them up in the world, well-adjusted and healthy, thanks to her background in EI. She’s also the product of a pretty good mama herself (who else comes up with “painting rocks” with water?!)
Sister. She forged the way and provided me the commentary as she explored what it looks like to love your kids and provide them with the best in life. She held my hand through breastfeeding (ok, not literally), sleep schedules and how to put on a mai-tai. 
Cousins. Since we’re learning it at the same time, it’s been a blessing to hear their victories and even their challenges. Knowing my daughter wasn’t the only one to scream like a cat before bed or that introducing solids was added work gave me peace of mind. 
M-I-L. Since I married the product of her motherly work, I can say she did a fantastic job. And because I married her progeny, I can say that no matter how great you do, and how much you love Jesus, there’s no formula for producing perfection. This is a tough one for me to swallow (because I’m always wondering how I can do better for these littles), so she shows me the large amount of grace that the motherhood equation requires. Also, she’s demonstrated that though not perfect, love does produce thoughtful, generous, loving future-spouses. I (and my children!) can’t thank her enough! 
Mother, of course. When you watch it day-in and day-out,  you pick up a few things about what it means to be give and love and sacrifice. I also picked up on how important it is to foster great friendships and make time for a date out with your spouse. I watched her flourish as a person, beyond her identity as a mother. Because now that the kids are grown and gone, she continues to live a rich life. 
« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2026 Michele Minehart

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑