Only One
READ
Martha gets a bad reputation in today’s story, but I think we've misunderstood her. She wasn't doing something wrong by serving. She was doing something generous, hospitable, and good. The problem wasn't her activity. The problem was that her activity had become disconnected from her identity.
Let’s take a moment to read Luke 10:38-42:
As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”
“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”
REFLECT
"Martha, Martha," Jesus says—and you can almost hear the tenderness in the repetition—"you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one."
Martha was living from what she did rather than from who she was. And it was exhausting her.
Most of us are Martha. We've defined ourselves by our productivity, our usefulness, our ability to get things done. We measure our worth by our output. We feel guilty when we rest because we're not accomplishing anything. We've learned to perform our value rather than receive it.
But Jesus invites us into a radically different way of being.
Mary chose to sit at Jesus' feet and listen. Not because she was lazy or irresponsible, but because she understood something fundamental: your identity must come before your activity. Who you are matters more than what you do. And who you are becoming in Christ is the foundation from which all meaningful action flows.
This isn't about choosing contemplation over action or prayer over service. It's about understanding the proper order. We don't serve in order to become acceptable to God. We serve because we're learning to respond from a heart that's already accepted, already loved, already whole.
The compartmentalized life looks at Mary and Martha and assumes we have to choose one or the other. Either you're the spiritual one who prays, or you're the practical one who serves. Either you prioritize intimacy with God, or you prioritize action in the world. But this is a false choice. Jesus isn't asking you to stop serving. He's inviting you to serve from a different place—from an identity rooted in His love rather than from a need to prove your worth.
When Martha complains that Mary isn't helping, she reveals what's really going on inside her. She's measuring her value by her activity, and she's resentful that others aren't doing the same. She's trying to earn something through her service that can only be received as a gift. She's working hard to be acceptable when she's already accepted.
How many of us do the same thing? We read our Bibles to check a box. We serve at church to feel valuable. We maintain our spiritual disciplines to convince ourselves we're good enough. We're doing all the right things, but we're doing them from the wrong place—from insecurity rather than from belovedness, from obligation rather than from overflow.
Jesus isn't criticizing Martha's service. He's inviting her to discover something better: a centered life where everything flows from sitting at His feet, listening to His words, receiving His love. From that place of connection and identity, service becomes a natural response rather than a frantic attempt to prove something.
This is what it means to live as a whole person. You don't split yourself into the spiritual you who sits at Jesus' feet and the practical you who gets things done. You bring your whole self to Jesus first, and then you bring that same integrated self into your work, your relationships, your daily tasks.
The tragedy of the compartmentalized life is that it robs both our worship and our work of authenticity. When we're sitting in church but thinking about our to-do list, we're not really present. When we're serving others but silently resenting it, we're not really loving. We're performing, juggling, balancing—but we're not whole.
Jesus' invitation is always the same: make yourself available. Sit. Listen. Receive. Let your identity be established first. And then—from that centered place, from that deep knowing of who you are and whose you are—let everything else flow.
You don't have to earn God's attention through your activity. You don't have to prove your value through your productivity. You don't have to maintain your worth through your performance. You are loved, you are known, you are accepted—right now, before you do anything else.
This is the "one thing" that's needed. Not one activity over another, but one foundation: a life built on receiving God's love, a heart centered in Christ, an identity rooted in something deeper than accomplishment.
From that place, you can serve with joy instead of resentment. You can work with freedom instead of anxiety. You can give without keeping score. Because you're no longer trying to become something through your doing. You're learning to love from who you're already becoming.
RESPOND
Take a moment to process what God might be leading you to do in light of what you read.
Do you tend to define yourself more by what you accomplish or by your identity in Christ? How does this show up in your daily life and emotional well-being?
When was the last time you simply "sat at Jesus' feet" without an agenda, without trying to accomplish something? What makes this difficult for you?
REST
Take a moment to rest in God’s presence and consider one thing you can take away from your time reading, then close your devotional experience by praying:
Jesus, You know how easily I slip into measuring my worth by my productivity. Teach me to sit at Your feet first, to receive my identity from You before I rush into activity. Help me to serve not to earn Your love, but as a response to the love I've already received. Center my heart in Your presence so that everything I do flows from who I am becoming in You. Amen.