At his feet

“And Jesus answered and said unto her,

Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things:

But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:41–42

They thought my silence meant I didn’t hear it.

But I did.

I heard the sighs behind me.

The clatter of dishes pressed harder than necessary.

The unspoken accusation hanging in the air,

Must be nice to sit while others carry the weight.

I felt the eyes.

Felt the tension.

Felt my name pass through the room without being spoken.

And for a moment, my hands twitched.

My mouth almost opened.

Explanation rose like instinct.

Because silence is costly when you’re misunderstood.

Because the urge to be seen as faithful runs deep.

Because being accused while doing what is right still hurts.

But then I felt it,

His presence steady beneath me,

like stone under bare feet.

So I stayed.

I stayed seated while the noise grew louder.

I stayed while my obedience was questioned.

I stayed while my devotion was mistaken for neglect.

Not because I didn’t care.

But because I cared too much to leave.

I could have explained myself.

I could have justified my choice.

I could have stood up and said,

I’m not lazy. I’m listening.

But I didn’t.

Because I knew this:

If I stood up to defend myself,

I would have had to turn my back on Him.

And I wasn’t willing to do that.

Let them think what they will.

Let the assumptions form.

Let the criticism sharpen.

I was not there to be understood by everyone.

I was there to hear Him.

And I trusted—

not naively,

not blindly,

but deeply—

that if my devotion mattered to Him,

He would speak.

So I let my silence preach.

I let my stillness testify.

I let my posture say what my mouth refused to carry.

And He did speak.

Not harshly.

Not defensively.

But tenderly.

He defended my choice without asking me to explain it.

He named my devotion without demanding my voice.

In that moment, I learned something holy:

You don’t have to answer every accusation.

You don’t have to explain every obedience.

You don’t have to fight every battle.

Some battles are won by staying seated.

Some victories come by refusing to rise.

Some defenses are handled by hands far stronger than yours.

So I stayed at His feet.

And He stood for me.