A Moment of Reflection: My Martha Season

From serving to surrender: rediscovering my relationship with god

On September 29, 2024, I found myself in church, something that has become a rarity the past few years. It was only my third or fourth time attending in 2024. A few years ago, that would have been unimaginable to those who knew me—I was in church three to four times a week back then. But this past Sunday, something the pastor said resonated deeply and shook me to my core. He spoke about the story of two sisters, Martha and Mary, from the Bible. Martha was preoccupied with serving, working hard to ensure everything was perfect, while Mary sat at Jesus’ feet, worshipping. Martha, frustrated, questioned whether Jesus even cared that she was doing all the work alone. Jesus gently rebuked her, saying, “You are worried and troubled about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen that one thing, and it will not be taken from her.”

In that moment, I saw myself in Martha.

I, too, have been so distracted. For a while now, I’ve struggled with feeling distant from God, unable to pinpoint exactly when or how it happened. I used to be so on fire for God—worshipping, studying the Word to build my relationship with Him. I was always at His feet. But then I got caught up in serving. And I loved serving. I served in every capacity, both inside and outside the church. However, at some point, the balance was lost. I was no longer studying the Word to deepen my personal relationship with God; I was studying to help others build theirs. Serving became a distraction, a barrier between me and the Word. I was pouring out, but not being poured into.

I became the person everyone called on when a role needed filling. My heart was fully in serving God’s people, and I gladly took on the responsibility. I was the strong friend, the strong family member. I prayed for everyone—except myself.

Then life happened, and I wasn’t that strong person anymore.

It was new territory for me, and I didn’t know how to be anything other than strong. I don’t think those around me knew how to see me as anything but strong either. I lost my dad unexpectedly. My marriage failed. I became estranged from my family for some time. Grief weighed me down, and I discovered that some of the people I had been loyal to were disloyal to me.

I thought I could fix it all on my own. I thought I knew how to make myself better, but the truth is, I just drifted further away from God. I began to feel like God didn’t care about the things I cared about. I was angry. How could I serve His people, pray for His church, and yet watch my life fall apart? I blamed Him for my weakness, for my pain. And this anger wasn’t fleeting—it lasted for years.

Each time I tried to return to what I once knew, my heart felt too cold, too closed off. It became difficult to even speak to God. I wanted to blame everything and everyone else, but the truth was, I had lost my balance. I was distracted. Yes, serving is important, but I was no longer sitting at His feet.

I wasn’t nurturing my own relationship with Him.

“God’s grace held me, even in my silence. ”

— Lo

God is a jealous God. He desires that we put Him first, not just our works. And I had forgotten that. In my efforts to serve His name, I had stopped talking to Him. How could I be sure that I was still doing what He wanted if I wasn’t even asking Him anymore? The Bible tells us to “acknowledge Him in all our ways,” but I had assumed I knew what He wanted from me.

But over the past two or three years, even while I wandered in the wilderness—not even speaking to Him—God still gave me grace. He continued to meet my needs, even in my silence, and that softened my heart towards Him again. It became clear that He still cared for me, even when I doubted. The pastor said something else that struck me deeply: God’s grace isn’t permission to keep doing the wrong thing, but a chance He gives us to change. And it’s not as though I didn’t know this. I had taught it to others countless times.

But in that moment, something shifted. My heart softened, and my hearing was clear again. I heard it as if for the first time:

Repent, Lo! God never moved—you did! He’s still here. He always has been.

II Corinthians 12:9 … “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness,”