Dr. Luke recorded five verses in the gospel that bears his name that have become very well known (Luke 10:38-42). Women’s groups and businesses have been named after the two women who invited Jesus into their home.

Would you want Jesus as a guest in your home? Hmm. How does one prepare their house for such an important guest? Would Jesus even want to come to such a meager house as mine, and if he did, what would I serve? Are the hand towels fresh, and do we have one that isn’t unraveling or stained? What does Jesus like to drink? How many people are with him?

Martha was juggling all the questions and all the stresses. But her sister, Mary, sat … as in not doing anything to help. If Martha was anything like me, she did her share of pot banging and walking through the room with a death glare in hopes that her sister would get the clue.

But Mary didn’t.

And then when Martha couldn’t take it anymore, “she came to [Jesus] and asked, ‘Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!’” (verse 40).

Maybe you feel sorry for Martha right now.

You shouldn’t.

Martha got caught up in all the stuff we easily—let me say that again, EASILY—get caught up in that keeps us from the more important things we should be doing.

More important than cleaning the house?

More important than cooking a meal?

Decorating? Gathering? Shopping? Wrapping? Mailing?

“‘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’” (verses 41,42).

It’s so easy to do. Our expectations keep us from time in the Word and prayer. “I will get to my Bible, but the floor needs to be swept. And they are looking for volunteers, and I should make something to bring.”

One thing is needed. Mary, not Martha, got it right.

That’s why I love grace. I get it wrong all too often. I think I’ll do better tomorrow or next time or next year. But then I get caught up in the distractions I told myself I wouldn’t, and I need Jesus.

I need Jesus, who smiles when I sit with him in front of my open Bible with a hurried spirit. No death glares, only an invitation to “come, and I will give you rest.”

I need Jesus, who sees my anxious heart worrying if something will work out or asking what-ifs. Jesus wants that crazy woman to talk to him so he can calm my frazzled soul.

I need Jesus, who sees the true me, the distracted and striving and worn out me, who messed up again. That Jesus went resolutely to the cross to pay a price I couldn’t.

You and I wear ourselves out doing.

But Jesus doesn’t ask us to. In fact, Jesus would pull us from the kitchen, the meeting, the phone call, the planning and tell us to sit. Relax. Listen. He offers what our weary souls need: rest, peace, calm, security.

The house doesn’t matter, and the towels don’t matter. The meal doesn’t matter. You don’t have to earn his love or his admiration.

Grace is not something you do. It’s knowing Jesus did it all for you.