But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things, but one thing is needed. Mary has chosen the best part; it will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:41, 42)
Icy frost covers the lawn. Not without struggle, I will myself out of bed and into my beanbag chair for devotions. Wrapped in a comforter, and with my Bible in front of me, I’m set for an encounter with the Living God.
Then it hits. A really good sermon topic pops into my mind. I scramble to get it on paper before it evaporates. An hour later, I realize I’ve been suckered. I could have touched the presence of Yahweh, but instead, I drafted a sermon. The enemy of the best is the good.
The sun has gone to bed, and I am rubbing my brow while contemplating the day. It was good, jammed with kingdom productivity. I answered my calls and messages. I counseled a couple, cleared the mail, made it to the bank, fixed the toilet, and survived an elders’ meeting. But, not once can I recall listening for the love of God. I’ve been ripped-off, again. The enemy of the best is the good.
Making dinner for her Lord was a good gesture, but it was not the best. Martha’s sister was doing the best. Mary was sitting goo-goo eyed at Jesus’s feet, absorbing his presence and truth. That was the best.
Our sly enemy uses the good to derail us from the best. I’m not going to fall for it. I’ll not accept anything but a red hot, spirit tingling, impassioned relationship with Jesus. There are thousands of substitutes, and many of them are quite good. But they don’t shoot out sparks like a connection with the Spirit of Jesus.
I choose what Mary chose. I refuse good enough, and press on to hovering in the tangible awareness that I’m cherished by God in Christ. That’s the best event of any day, and I wouldn’t trade it for all the good in the world.
Prayer: Savior, keep me from the busyness that prevents fellowship with you.