Saint Martha and Modern Disciples

I am listening to Krista Tippett interviewing Cory Booker on this episode of the NPR show On Being.  I would vote for this man--in fact, he's one of few politicians that I can think of for whom I would vote enthusiastically.

Here's a quote:  "So that’s the thing that, again, we can never underestimate, this truth that no matter who you are, the biggest thing you do in any day is most often going to be a small act of kindness, decency, or love."

And here's another:  "So that’s why I say the wisdom of age — to do the things that add to your self-esteem, add to your self-worth. And often, they’re very small. But that self-care in a world that is going to do everything it can to do two things to you in the day. One, bombard you with anxiety. And the other one is, distract you; this world is so elegantly designed to distract you from your life mission. Life is not just about getting into the river and getting caught in the current of current events."

It has been interesting to hear this interview after thinking and writing about Saint Martha, whose feast day is today--for more on her, see this post on my theology blog.  I treasure this saint in so many ways.  I love that she gets so lost in her chores that she almost loses the chance to commune with Jesus.  I love that Jesus realizes that she's got a lot going on in her worried mind.  I love that she wants Jesus to perform the miracles the way she wants them:  not to raise her brother from the dead but to have gotten there in time to heal her brother.

In these tales that bubble along in the Gospels, I see common themes:  regular humans who don't recognize the Divine walking beside them, humans who need to learn the same lessons again and again and again.

I, too, am far from where I want to be as a disciple. I take courage from these stories that remind me that there is hope for the lagging disciple.  I mean that in more ways than just the spiritual that the word disciple so often connotes.

I need to get back to some basic creative practices.  My poetry writing has almost stopped this month.  My markers are missing my hands that used to hold them.  I'm not making healthy lunches the way I used to do.

Soon the Great Flooring Project will start--and this month of getting ready for it will be over.  I hold fast to the hope that I can then turn my attention to other things.