The Better Portion:
starting as Martha,
ending as Mary
I remember when I first started my walk with Christ. It was one of the most beautiful moments of my life. Knowing that God loved me, that He died on the cross for me, changed everything. I remember buying my first Bible and genuinely enjoying reading His Word. For a whole year, I was captivated. I wanted to know Him. I wanted to understand Scripture. I wanted to sit with Him.
And then somewhere along the way, I started to feel like it wasn’t enough.
There came a time in my walk when I felt horrible for not “doing” anything for the Lord. I felt disappointed in myself because I thought I wasn’t on fire for Him. I wasn’t preaching to crowds, sharing my testimony on stages, or serving heavily in church. I wasn’t busy for God. And even though I was deeply in love with His Word, it still felt like it didn’t measure up to what Jesus had done for me.
I thought fire meant activity.
I thought devotion meant visibility.
I thought love for God had to look loud.
But Jesus loves a good paradox.
What the church often calls being “set on fire” looks very different from how Jesus defines it. And we see this so clearly in the story of Mary and Martha.
“As Jesus and the disciples continued on their way to Jerusalem, they came to a certain village where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. Her sister, Mary, sat at the Lord’s feet, listening to what he taught. But Martha was distracted by the big dinner she was preparing. She came to Jesus and said, “Lord, doesn’t it seem unfair to you that my sister just sits here while I do all the work? Tell her to come and help me.” But the Lord said to her, “My dear Martha, you are worried and upset over all these details! There is only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it, and it will not be taken away from her.””
Luke 10:38-42 NLT
The beauty of knowing the simplicity that is in Christ is realizing that to be “on fire” is not to be endlessly busy, but to live in constant rest at the feet of Jesus. Service was never meant to be the measure of devotion. What Jesus invites us into is something far quieter and often unseen. He calls us first to sit with Him, to listen, and to receive.
This truth is not new. Even in the Old Testament, God makes His heart clear when He says,
“I want you to show love, not offer sacrifices. I want you to know me more than I want burnt offerings.”
Hosea 6:6 NLT
The issue was never that sacrifices or acts of service were wrong, but that God’s people had replaced knowing Him with performing for Him. The Lord was not after religious output, but relational faithfulness. He wanted hearts that knew Him, not hands that merely worked for Him.
In the same way, Jesus gently corrects Martha, not because serving is sinful, but because she believed her worth before Him was found in her activity. Mary understood what was truly necessary. She chose presence over productivity, intimacy over impression, and Jesus calls this the better portion.
Here I am, two years later, after dwelling in the simplicity that is in Christ. Loving His Word more than ever. Resting more deeply than I ever thought possible. What I once believed was a lack of fire was actually an invitation into intimacy. What felt like doing “nothing” was the very thing my soul needed most.
Jesus was never asking me to prove my love through constant activity. The gospel was never about how much we do for God. It has always been about what He has already done for us. Jesus doesn’t love us more when we serve Him, and He doesn’t love us less when we don’t. That is our God, full of grace and love. He was inviting me not to strive for Him, but to know Him. To sit with Him. To trust that His finished work was enough. I thought I wasn’t on fire because I was looking at myself. I wasn't looking at the cross.
When He cried out, “It is finished,” He meant it. There is nothing left to earn, nothing left to add, and nothing left to prove.
All He wants is our hearts.
All He wants is for us to know Him and to love Him.
And in that knowing, in that quiet abiding, we discover that the truest fire is not found in striving, but in resting in the One who has already done it all.
By: Kelsey Juan