Feeling Like Martha

By Jack Chui

Last week was a particularly busy week for me as I sent a lot of time organising several different events for the coming weekend. They had to be organised early in the week so that I could give it every chance of success and I had little time to do so having spent a long weekend in Sydney. When organising the steamboat gathering I had received a response which made me feel like what Martha felt when serving Jesus. 'Why isn't Mary helping me!' I'm opening my house, have to tidy it up, think about what to prepare and how to do it - let alone help with its execution on the day. I felt I was doing all the prep work all alone and no one wanted to be a Martha also choosing to be Mary instead.

But during that week after I had felt frustrated, God spoke to me through the mass readings and an accompanying reflection. It was about how life is just very short and temporary, that married men should live like they were uncommited. It gave me heart that I may not be able to serve forever or a long time and that I should use the time that I have while I have it to serve the people around me because those chances may not come again. I reaffirmed my gift to be a good Martha so that others can be Mary.

The steamboat gathering went really well last Friday night. While I was busying myself trying to make everyone comfortable early on and being a good host I was sincerely touched by the generous help from everyone to buy and bring the food for the party and also help me clean up such that I didn't have much to tidy at the end of the night. I could be experience feeling what it was like to be Mary at the gathering for a bit and be ministered to by the open conversation of my friends in STAY. My heartfelt thanks to everyone that came to the steamboat, your help and your presence and fellowship to make it the wonderful night that it was. Thank you.

Over the next few posts I will share about the talks I had privilege to listen to at a retreat I went to in Sydney. When I get the chance to write them up.