Poor Martha, See Mary by Kathy Colasante

Photo by Kevin Cardin, licensed with Adobe Stock

Jesus said, "Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.”
Luke 10:41-42

Years from now, when the children are grown,
They'll not remember how clean was the home,
Did a light coat of dust inveil the walls?
Were there a few toys scattered in halls?
But they will remember deep in their heart,
A weary and worn mother who failed to stop.
Working and working from dawn to the night,
Carrying burdens and fears, so uptight.
Working and working, no time for prayer,
'Til pressures are mounting and tempers do flare.

Wide-eyed young children, mama is mad,
Dare not they speak, their hearts are so sad.
The arms that caress, the words that instruct,
Are lost now in anger and words that rebuff.
Oh mama, dear mama, flee from the trap,
When pressures are rising, there's this and there's that.
It's only your children, their precious dear souls,
Their eyes that are watching, lives in a mold.
What are they learning when they look at you,
The lessons that you teach them, now are they true?

Wait not a moment, when fear grips your heart,
Piles of laundry, and supper to start.
They'll not go hungry, or without clothes,
Flee to your Father, your cares He does know.
Go steady your heart, as you seek Him in prayer,
Small eyes are watching, will they catch you there?
Down on your knees when things go awry,
When burdens seem piled from here to the sky.
Flee from the tasks like a fox from a trap,
Buried in the burdens of the this and the that.

Receive the vision from heaven above,
Tender young hearts in need of your love.
Lost in their lessons, now they have chores,
They have their work, and you, you have yours.
But the Father, His purpose is higher than ours,
We see the clouds, He makes us the stars!
We see the work, He sees the plan,
And we'll see it too, if we seek Him again.
Let His Spirit guide you and lead you in time,
We are the branch and He is the vine.

Run not so fast, poor Martha, see Mary,
It's fear, not your faith, that's making you weary.
Be still My child, and know that I am God,
When the road is long, and the way seems hard.
As you carry your burdens, let Me carry you,
With your hand in Mine, we'll make it through.
From valleys to mountains, to valleys again,
I'll be your Lord, and I'll be your friend.
I'll bring you from trials to victory still,
If you'll trust and obey Me; seek only My will!

I am the Potter. Rest in My hand, blessed clay,
Pray without ceasing, all through the day.
I'll bring you from trials to victory still,
If you'll trust and obey Me; seek only My will.
​As your heart rests in Me, your burdens grow light,
Your work will be joyous when your heart is right.
My purpose you'll see in your hand on the plow,
Even glimpses of glory in the here and the now.
My purpose in matters once wearisome and trite,
Will shine in your soul as the new morning light.

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