This weekend is Father’s day. After my brother provided my Mother and all his sisters with a fabulous Mother’s Day lunch we are returning the favor. We are going to a casual local pizza place in my neighborhood. There is the possibility of family and friends dropping by my house and for me this means several things. I need to vacuum, and spot clean those tiny teal and red spots on the rug in the dining room; caused by confetti topped cupcakes I got for a friend. Did I add that was almost a week ago? I also need to clean the bathrooms, pick up items that are scattered and dispatch any dishes in the sink. Don’t think it stops there this prep is not just for the home but me too. I started last night by giving myself a pedicure and manicure. Toenails and fingernails got a coat Cherry Slush. (You think red but it actually a pretty fetching pink). The fingernail polish I will check as soon I finish this post to see if I have chipped it. I also rose early and washed my hair. For twenty minutes I sat under the dryer with conditioner so that I could let it dry naturally so when I curl it later this morning it will hold up better. All of this is more than my normal routine. They might come over my house or we might eat our lunch and part company at the restaurant and that is fine too. But like her, I need to prepare. Like whom you say. Like Martha. I am talking about Martha. No not Martha Stewart although I am sure she could relate. I am speaking of Mary’s sister Martha. You see in the book of Luke, chapter ten, there were these two sisters. Jesus was coming over to their house with at least twelve men with him, the ones he called his disciples. I am pretty sure others came too because the Jesus entourage “rolled deep” as my son would say. Jesus was the toast of the town back then. This miracle worker who spoke and thousands showed up to see what he would do next, and to hear what they had never heard before. That Jesus was coming and the sisters had to get the house ready for Him. At that point I would be a little freaked out. He’s coming here? To our house? My eyes would dart around the room, seeing the layer of dust on the TV screen, the small stain on the carpet next to the front door. What about all those scratches on the dining room table, we should get the table cloth down from the linen closet. Yeah, I would be a little freaked out. Not Mary she was the lets just pick up some cheese and crackers and have a little fruit kind of girl. But Martha would not be able to conceive of not fixing her best dish and the thought of store brought food, for Jesus? Are you kidding? Yeah, I am more like Martha. I don’t throw dinner parties and I don’t cook a lot, but if I know someone is coming to my home I prep and I feel at times the stress creeping in that is so uncalled for. Martha in her frustration to get the meal on the table she told Jesus, tell my sister to help me out. But Jesus told her, Martha you worry about stuff to much honey and you miss the good part. What was the good part? Why it was looking forward to his coming, enjoying him being at her house. Not seeing it as some kind of opportunity for him to judge her. He wouldn’t raise his eyebrows and say it’s kinda messy in here ain’t it? Or, Martha you didn’t cook today? Mary looked totally forward to his visit and when he got there, she sat down and caught every precious word that came from his mouth. I am still more like Martha, but I want to be more like her. I hope you do too. Pray, because I have about two hours and I need to start vacuuming.