What Mary Found

 

We often have this idea that we should be making a difference. We want to have some impact on the world—or at least the Church. But sometimes God providentially hems us in. We are neither able to serve in a more visible way, nor are we able to do much in the background. Those who deal with illness understand this. I sometimes hear of men who have a hard time adapting to retirement. Without a sense of calling and purpose, they do not know what to do with themselves, and some sink into depression.

But there is something we may do even on a sick bed. Yes, we may take up a ministry of intercession, but I have something else in mind—something in some ways higher and richer and more wonderful. The work of an intercessor is never to be underestimated, but it is not the only thing we can do. And when through weakness even intercession proves difficult, there is still this one other thing we can do—and yesterday I was struck by the wonder of it: that if this one thing is all we can do, it is enough to make us truly “richer than all kings.”*

Just last night I spoke briefly with someone else battling illness. Physically I was feeling quite poor, and he was also struggling. But we spoke together about this one thing. We were remembering the better part that Mary found (Luke 10:42). And we were admitting that there were some things we would like to do for the kingdom—that is, if our health improved. But we rejoiced together that we could still do this: we could still “sit” at the feet of Jesus (Luke 10:39).

And what did Mary do? We know that she listened to the voice of her Shepherd. She beheld Him not only with physical eyes, but eyes of faith. She believed she was in the presence of the Son of God, the Lamb who had come to take away the sin of the world (John 1:29), and she loved Him.  But it is believed by many commentators that she was also the woman who, on another occasion, anointed Him with costly ointment. In the Gospel of John we are told that she anointed His feet and wiped them with the hair of her head (John 12:3). And in the Gospel of Luke we are told of the woman who washed His feet with her tears, wiped them with the hairs of her head, and had not ceased to kiss His feet since the time she came in (Luke 7:38, 45).

What Judas thought was a waste because it was given only to Jesus, was actually received and remembered—to this day—as a precious act of service and love (Matthew 26:8–13; Mark 14:4–9). That “wasteful” act of extravagant but sincere love will be remembered for all eternity.

I wonder what circumstances currently discourage you? Are you ill? Are your days confined to a sick bed? Others can preach or teach, some can cook meals and wash dishes, others can build, and still others count themselves as hewers of wood and drawers of water in the kingdom—but not you. Not now. Has it ever occurred to you that this simple thing Mary did is something you can still do?

Maybe you are sometimes too tired even to lift your head. But you can sit at the feet of Jesus (Luke 10:39) and wash His feet with your tears. You can still hear the voice of the Good Shepherd (John 10:27), you can still behold Him with eyes of faith, and with words of worship, praise, and affection you can tell Him you love Him. You may not be able to put the words together, but the Spirit will help you as you silently adore Him (Romans 8:26). Like Mary, you may only have tears—of gratitude, wonder, and love—but none of it is wasted. For though you may not have served others, you have served Him.

Strangely, some of the happiest times of my life have been times when I have been physically weakest. Having nowhere else to go, I turn to my Saviour—and of course He is faithful. He does not hide from us in our time of need. Instead, He draws near to those who draw near to Him (James 4:8). And in that place of weakness, He proves again that His grace is sufficient (2 Corinthians 12:9), that His name is Wonderful (Isaiah 9:6), and that He Himself is our very great reward (Genesis 15:1).

But reader—isn’t it wonderful to think that though sidelined, you can still serve Him?

My condition has come with a lowered baseline of what I can and cannot do, but I also have flares. And yesterday it was like being hit by a wall. But as I thought about Mary, and about what I could do lying there on my bed, my heart felt as if it would burst. Because I can still serve my King. I may not have oil to give, but figuratively speaking I can wash His feet with my tears. With or without words, I can still adore Him. What a blessing!

Reader, when you think about this do you not feel some stirring in your heart? If He were there at the door knocking, would you not run to open it (Song of Solomon 5:2–6; Revelation 3:20)? If He were there in your room, would you not gladly take a place at His feet? And what would you tell Him? With a heart full of thankfulness and joy and affection and wonder, is there not a part of you that longs to do as Mary did—to have something to offer the Son of God who loved you and gave Himself for you (Galatians 2:20)?

And what do you have to offer? The one thing He wants: you. With hands that are empty, and clinging by faith to the cross of Calvary, you can, like Mary, offer Him a heart full of love and gratitude.

Reader, surely you will agree that when we bow down before Him we are richer than all kings. There is no place you can go to flee from His presence (Psalm 139:7–10), and surely goodness and mercy shall follow you all the days of your life—and then you will dwell in the house of the LORD forever (Psalm 23:6).

* From Psalm 84 (I'm Home) by Shane & Shane