And the name of this blog is ...!
I had a Mary vs. Martha moment the other day.
Something really sad happened: my friend told me straight up that he's not following God anymore. "I still believe in Him," he said, "I'm just not following Him." One part of me broke with sadness when I heard that and the other part wanted to laugh with derision and ask scornfully what this life had to offer that was so much better than the hope of eternally living with Jesus after the Resurrection.
The Mary vs. Martha moment occurred when, halfway through the conversation, I thought to myself, "I really need to finish dinner. The chicken is just sitting out." I realized in a moment that I was dealing with the loss of a human soul and all I could think about was finishing dinner. Wow, words cannot adequately how despicable I am.
But, then again, aren't we all?
I controlled my domestic urges and talked it out with him. His truly is a sad story: he lost his dad to a heart attack a little over a year ago, his relationship with his mother became strained and was not helped at all when she remarried about two months back, and during the conversation he told me I was one of only two Christian friends he knew.
I was left shaken and angered. Was it the church's fault? His parents? His own? There was nothing I could do except pray, but I wanted to do something tangible.
God's timing is more perfect than my own.
Something really sad happened: my friend told me straight up that he's not following God anymore. "I still believe in Him," he said, "I'm just not following Him." One part of me broke with sadness when I heard that and the other part wanted to laugh with derision and ask scornfully what this life had to offer that was so much better than the hope of eternally living with Jesus after the Resurrection.
The Mary vs. Martha moment occurred when, halfway through the conversation, I thought to myself, "I really need to finish dinner. The chicken is just sitting out." I realized in a moment that I was dealing with the loss of a human soul and all I could think about was finishing dinner. Wow, words cannot adequately how despicable I am.
But, then again, aren't we all?
I controlled my domestic urges and talked it out with him. His truly is a sad story: he lost his dad to a heart attack a little over a year ago, his relationship with his mother became strained and was not helped at all when she remarried about two months back, and during the conversation he told me I was one of only two Christian friends he knew.
I was left shaken and angered. Was it the church's fault? His parents? His own? There was nothing I could do except pray, but I wanted to do something tangible.
God's timing is more perfect than my own.
Comments