Tuesday, May 25, 2010
The blessing and the curse of being Martha
I am going to admit something that I NEVER EVER admit. My name is Martha. That is truly the name given to me at birth. I've always hated it, even though I was named after a really fabulous lady for whom I have immeasurable respect and admiration (my mother's dear aunt). I remember being incredibly embarassed by my name when I was younger. It was horrifying to me when anyone found out my real name. I have gone by the name "Marti" since I was a small child. But lately I've realized that my mother named me correctly.
The name Martha has been used in conversation much more frequently than in the past. First, there is the Biblical Martha. The woman who worked and worked and refused to see she should be sitting at Jesus' feet rather than trying to do everything. I am so guilty of this. If Jesus came to my door, would I be able to take the time to sit and listen to him, or would I be running around trying to make sure his visit was perfect? I'm guessing it would be a little of both.
Then we come to the other Martha: Martha Stewart. I have a cousin who jokingly calls me "Apple Pie" because she thinks I am super-domesticated. Ha! I told her that if she could see my house right now, she wouldn't be calling me that. Seriously, I have 3 baskets of laundry waiting to be ironed. I have a trail of powdery pixie dust (super-fine glitter) leading down my hall and into both my scrapbook room as well as Katie's bedroom (thanks to my super crafty daughter who was making me a project - and the blasted stuff will not all come up off of my wood floors), and I desperately need to dust. But, I must admit that I am a huge fan of Martha. She just does things right (with the exception of her investments). She makes it a point to go the extra mile when caring for her home. I bought her Homekeeping book a year or two ago and it was wonderful!!!! But I am sooo not even close to being Martha Stewart (how can one even aspire to such perfection?).
I truly believe that homemaking is becoming a lost art. We are so busy in our daily lives that we don't have any extra energy to do those small finishing-touches that make our families feel special. So, while I am not Martha Stewart, I do feel the pressure of the name. Life would be easier if I didn't care. I know that. But, I do care. I enjoy making my family feel special and loved, whether by ironing their clothing or by cutting the kidlets' sandwiches with cookie cutters when I pack their lunches. I want them to remember these small things and I hope they know I do them with love.
Nope. I am not Martha Stewart. I'm just Marti.