They’d welcomed him into their home with love. Martha moved briskly from kitchen to table, napkin to pitcher, caught up in the quiet flurry of hospitality. She wanted it to be perfect, for Jesus, for the disciples, for everyone. But in the middle of all that effort, her heart boiled over. And Mary? She just sat there. At his feet. Listening.

Luke 10:38–42 offers a moment so simple, yet piercingly human. Two sisters, one Saviour, and a question that still echoes in every crowded to-do list and anxious heartbeat: what really matters?

Jesus wasn’t dismissing Martha’s service. He saw her. Her care, her planning, her desire to honour him. But he also saw something else, how burdened she’d become. Her kindness had turned to resentment. Her focus had blurred. And gently, he called her back: “You are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed, or indeed only one.”

Mary had chosen that one thing. Not out of laziness, but love. She’d seen that presence was more precious than performance. That sometimes the most faithful act is to stop. Sit. Listen. Let the noise fade and the voice of Christ rise.

For those of us who care deeply, who show our love through action, who carry much on tired shoulders, it’s a tender invitation, not a rebuke. Jesus doesn’t shame Martha; he reorients her. He reminds us all that intimacy must anchor our activity. That being with him is never a waste of time.

In our culture of hustle and pressure, where value so often lies in output and pace, this story subverts expectations. It speaks of worth that’s not earned but received. A posture, not of striving, but surrender.

So today, may we find a quiet moment. A seat at his feet. A stillness that lets grace in. Because the dishes can wait, but his voice, his presence, is here now. And that, dear soul, is the better part.