MARTHA, SISTER OF MARY
B. L. Whitworth
I am Martha, sister of Mary. For years people have accused me of not being fair to my sister
and not having my priorities in the right order, but I ask you to reserve judgment until you hear my
side of the story. Now, I'm not saying I was totally right, but my reasons were right. That should count
for something.
One day I had a million chores to do when my sister, Mary, said she heard that Jesus was
coming to our village. Right away she wanted to invite him to come for a visit. I wanted a visit too,
but not that particular day. I just wasn't prepared. You can understand that, can't you?
Well, Mary insisted. Nothing else would do her, so she took off down the road to meet Jesus
and left me to make all the preparations. That's just like her, though. She wants all these things done,
but she doesn't want to do the work--she just wants to enjoy the rewards. Don't misunderstand--my sister
has a lot of good qualities. She cares for people--I mean really cares, but I suspect she may have a
lazy streak when it comes to house work. You've seen people like that, haven't you?
Anyway, I forced myself to get into high gear, for there was much to do to get ready for Jesus'
visit. I had to finish washing the clothes, gather wood to cook the meal, sweep the floors, and a
thousand other things. Frankly, I didn't think I could possibly get it all done before Mary returned with our
guest, but I would give it my best effort.
Things were going pretty well: I had the bread in the oven outside, vegetables were peeled and ready
to cook, the floors had been swept, fresh water drawn from the well. I was hoping the clothes would
dry before they arrived. The yard would look better without all those clothes scattered around.
I looked up from my work and noticed someone had left the gate open. All the sheep and goats
were roaming around the yard. A goat had my best robe in its mouth chewing away! Another chore
to do! I finally rounded up all the animals and got them back in the pen.
I had worked up quite a sweat. It was a warm day with the sun beaming down, and the heat from
the oven made it almost too much to bear. But, we had to have fresh bread. I wouldn't dream of
serving our guest stale bread!
My hair was hanging in wet ringlets around my face. I probably didn't smell too good either after
messing with those sheep and goats. Besides, I hadn't been to the river to bathe for a day or two. That
was another worry. I didn't want Jesus to come and find me dirty and sweaty.
Mary had been gone a long time. I expected to see her and Jesus coming down the road any
minute. If only I had a little more time. But time was slipping away and I still had much to do.
I took out the linen table cloth and spread it on the table. The red fruit looked pretty against the
white background of the linen.
My best pottery needed a good scrubbing, but I didn't have time, so I just wiped it off and dried it.
That would have to do, I thought as I put it on the table.
Well, I had accomplished more than I thought I could. Mary and Jesus still weren't there, so
maybe I could get everything done.
I grabbed clean garments and headed to the river. Surely no one would be there bathing in
the middle of the day. If they were, they would just have to share with me. I had to be clean for
Jesus' visit.
From out of nowhere Mary's old rooster started chasing me down the path. How he got out
of the coop I'll never know, but I had to get him back before our guests arrived. That crazy rooster
was known to jump on strangers. He had even jumped on me a time or two. Well, I finally grabbed
him and stuffed him into the coop and latched the door. "You won't get out now!"
Some kids were splashing around in the water when I got to the river. They stared at me, and I
stared right back! After all, they were just playing and I was there on business.
"You kids been here long?" I asked.
"All morning," one of them said.
"Then it's time you went home and let me enjoy the cool water for a while. Now scoot!"
They grumbled but they left.
It was so refreshing. Suddenly I felt like I just might pull this thing off.
Just as I rounded the hill going back to the house, I saw Mary and Jesus coming up the dusty
road. She was walking so close to Jesus. I could tell she was hanging on his every word. I wished
Mary would act more like a lady should act, but she wasn't about to change.
I rushed into the house and prepared the table. Whew! What a day! But, I was pretty much
ready.
"Martha, we are here!" Mary called from the side yard.
I went out to greet our guest. "It's good you could come, Jesus. However, your visit would
have been better if my sister had helped me with the preparations. Mary has a good heart, but it's not
a heart for hard work!"
"Your sister knows what is important," Jesus said.
"Do you mean that my sister coming to meet you and inviting you to our home was more
important than what I have done? I've been working as hard as I could to get ready for your visit.
I've drawn fresh water, baked bread, swept the floors and much more to get ready."
"Martha, you are troubled about many things," Jesus said. "Mary has chosen the good thing.
She has spent time with me. She has listened to me teach her of heavenly things. When I am
gone Mary will have sweet memories of our time together. You will have memories of the hard
work you have done. Mary will feel good inside because of her choices; you feel tired and resentful
that she did not help you. Now I ask you, Martha, which is better?"
What could I say? He was right. I missed the special blessing of his visit because I was so
busy getting ready. It wouldn't have mattered to Jesus if I hadn't served fresh bread and fresh
vegetables. He wouldn't have cared if the floors weren't swept.
I wanted everything perfect for his visit. He is a special friend, but I lost sight of what was
important. I didn't stop to think what would have pleased Jesus. I only thought about what would
please me, and that was having everything perfect.
As a result I was tired and weary when he arrived. I was worried the food wouldn't taste good
to him. I was worried that he wouldn't have nice surroundings when he arrived. I was just plain
worried about everything!
Now I ask you--would you have done things differently? If you knew Jesus was coming to your
house for a visit tomorrow, what would you do?
I can't say I learned my lesson completely, for I am who I am, but I did come to understand
that Jesus looks at the heart--not the house. Our love and attention are what he desires. So, we
need to make our heart his dwelling place.
If we make our heart his dwelling place, we must be careful to keep it free of things that
would not be pleasing to Jesus--things like unkind thoughts, harsh words spoken in anger,
selfishness--well, you know the kinds of things that would not be pleasing to Jesus.
He had to set me straight that day, but he did it with love. That's the way he is. So, every-
thing we do should be done in love too.
Well, now that you know my motive for being so particular that day, maybe you won't judge
me so harshly.
As for Mary, well she hasn't changed. She still escapes house work every chance she gets.
But, you know what, I escape garden work every chance I get, so I guess that makes us even.
Jesus is coming again. The Bible says he will come and every eye will see him! You won't
know exactly when he is coming, so it's important to be prepared at all times lest he come and
find you unprepared. But, don't spend your time on unnecessary things as you prepare for him.
Prepare your heart. That's what really matters.
Well, that's the story. Learn from my experience, but please don't judge me too harshly.
I'm really not a bad person. I was misguided for a while, but Jesus set me straight.
THE ADDRESS BOOK
B. L. Whitworth
Why can't life be simple, Lord? You know how impatient I get when
things go wrong! Look at the mess I'm in right now. All the addresses are
gone from my email address book. How am I supposed to send my daily
scripture or good thought if I don't have the names and addresses? I just
don't understand this.
They say I will have to use the alternate email program. Well, I don't
know how to use Express. I'm used to Outlook. I don't feel like learning
anything new today. It's too hard.
All this confusion is giving me a headache! Look, Lord, my hands are
even trembling from the stress. I don't feel well all of a sudden. Why do
these things happen anyway?
Are you even listening, Lord? Do you plan to give me a helping hand
here? You know I'm not good at problem solving when it comes to com-
puters.
What's that, Lord? You have already helped me! Then where are the
names and addresses in my email address book? Oh, I have to put them
back in. But how will I get them? That's right, Lord. I do have some of
them on a piece of paper. But where is that paper? Of course, it's in the
desk drawer.
Well, here's another problem. Now what? You're already helped me
with this problem too? Then why can't I solve it? Oh, you've placed a
friend in my life who can help. I should call her? Suppose she doesn't
want to be bothered? Are you sure she won't mind, Lord? I don't want
to be a pest. All right, I'll call.
What's that Lord? I should be glad you never lose your address book.
Oh, I am glad! Very glad.
Thank you, Lord, for placing people in my life who make it better.
May I be placed in others' lives to make it better for them. Yes, Lord,
I hear you. Don't get impatient when problems arise, for you have already
made a way for them to be solved. I understand. And I will try to do
better.
MARY TODD LINCOLN
B. L. Whitworth
My name is Mary Todd Lincoln. Do I ever have a story for you!
I will never forget the day I first saw Abraham Lincoln. He stood tall and straight and I knew he was destined for greatness.
I can't say he was really handsome, but something about him attracted me. At the time I was already courting Judge Douglas,
but I could tell that Mr. Lincoln liked me. The Judge was a very important citizen in the community, and I felt very special when
we walked down the street together and people would point and smile. But I heard rumors that Abraham Lincoln would someday
be President of the United States. Well, I could see myself being the First Lady and living in the White House. So, when he asked
me out, I accepted. And the day finally came when he asked me to marry him. I accepted.
Our lives were not too great at first, because he owed some money. He just couldn't rest until he had paid it back. Of course,
I did the wifely thing and helped him all I could.
Three boys were born to us. They were good boys--but you know boys will be boys. They needed plenty of space to run and
play.
At last we had paid back all that he owed, and we bought a house. It was a fine house, tall and white with green shutters. The
boys loved running up and down the long stairs and climbing the trees in the back yard. I liked the lacy curtains at the wide windows
and the plush carpet on the floors.
The only problem with the carpets was that they only encouraged Abe to continue a bad habit of sitting on the floor to read.
Heaven knows I tried enough times to get him to stop that country habit, but he paid me no attention. Of course, when he was
on the floor, the boys thought that was a perfect time to do some horse playing. No matter what Abe was doing, he always
stopped long enough to play a few minutes.
It wasn't long before people all over Illinois started talking about Abe. They thought he was the one to run for President.
Talk went on all over Springfield, but Abe never let it go to his head. That's the way he was--just plain Abe!
He loved pranks as much as our boys, and he pulled a few in his time. But the one that really upset me was the day some
boys in town decided to get Abe good. At the time he had started wearing a stove pipe hat. I didn't really like it, because it made
him look even taller. Anyway, the boys stretched a string across the street so Abe would walk into it. They put it high enough
that everyone else could walk under it. Abe stood a head taller than anyone else in town, and with that tall hat, he looked even taller.
Sure enough, here he came walking down the street, his mind on who knows what, a bunch of papers tucked under his arm. Boom!
That string caught his hat. He lost his balance and papers flew everywhere. He stooped to gather his papers, and the boys attacked
him from behind. I would have been pretty mad about the whole thing, but not Abe. He just played with them a while, rolling around
on the street. I told him that wasn't the kind of behavior expected from a man who might run for President.
He just laughed.
Later the people in the North decided that the Negroes in the South were being mistreated. They wanted the slaves freed.
The people of the South did not see it that way. Those slaves did the work for them at a mighty low price. It wasn't long
before Judge Douglas took sides with the South. He started going around the country speaking in favor of slavery. That
ruffled Abe's feathers!
In fact, I don't recall anything making him more angry, Abe followed him and spoke about the horror of slavery. People
seemed to listen to Abe.
I will never forget one particular day. Abe came in all excited. For Abe to get excited, I knew it had to be something pretty grand.
My heart just about stopped when he said, "We're moving! I am now the President of the United States." My dream had finally
come true. I was, at last, First Lady.
Then the Civil War started. What a terrible time! Brother fought against brother, father fought against son. Families were
torn apart.
At Gettysburg Abe made a speech to honor those soldiers who had died in the war. That speech is still read and talked
about today.
Finally in 1863 Abe signed the Emancipation Proclamation that ended slavery in our great country.
Some declared him a hero and others thought he was a coward and not fit to be President. I was even accused of being
disloyal because I was from the South. But I want you to know that I was always a strong supporter of my husband.
Tragedy struck one night in Ford Theater when the President and I were watching a play. A man named John Wilkes
Booth shot my husband, the President of this great country. He died a few hours later. Part of me died that night. Even those
who criticized him in life praised him in death, saying he was a kind, caring man. I knew that he would long be remembered, and
though my heart was breaking,
I knew I had been blessed to have known and loved such a wonderful man as Abraham Lincoln.
THE END
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