I was in a movie, once. I played dead man #4.
My scene took place in an office where a guy stood with a gun after having shot dead four dudes. I was to play one of the deceased that he would step over on his way out the door.
It just so happened that the director placed the other three dead guys around the room before me, giving me a chance to notice what positions they took. “Ordinary,” I thought — two on their backs, one guy on his stomach.
It gave me an idea. I would do something a little more dramatic to, you know, really stand out. I would take up a more mangled position to look like I really took a violent fall. And so, I laid on my back, with my leg curled up under the other, and rolled onto one side with my arms splayed out and my head cocked back.
It was a thing of beauty—until about 40 minutes went by. It never occurred to me that one shot of a guy stepping over dudes would take so long and would need to be captured from so many angles. Two hours went by, and every muscle in my body was quaking from having to hold that position. Sweat was running down my face and scalp, and my hip bone against the floor felt like it had been hit by a hammer. I was in excruciating pain. Then, every time the director said, “Action!” I had to hold my breath even though my lungs had gone into heave-mode trying to feed my quivering muscles oxygen while holding my body still. I felt like I was in a torture chamber.
To make it worse, the guy next to me who was laying comfortably on his back, was snoring.
“Do I always have to make things harder than they need to be?” I chided myself.
As I thought about my life, which I had plenty of time to do laying there, the answer was, yes; I do make things harder than they have to be, in everything, even when it comes to matters of faith.
When I came across the story of Martha and Mary in Luke 10, it became even clearer. Having invited Jesus to their home, Martha quickly tries to pick up the place and prepare food for their guests, while her sister Mary, simply seats at Jesus’ feet to lavish in His presence. When Martha gets mad at her sister’s inaction, she angrily complains to Jesus to snap Mary out of it. To which Jesus tells her that there is only one thing she needs to concern herself with. Just one. And Mary has found it.
Jesus boils our Christian walk down to the simplest, most basic action and says, in effect: This, just do this. Sit at my feet.
THE. ONE. THING.
I spend so much of my time trying to keep many things in mind. And I spend more time trying not to do something wrong than simply worshipping God and enjoying His presence.
But it’s just that easy. Why, then, do I tend to make it so hard?
I think that when we get to Heaven
We're gonna laugh when we can see
How hard we try to make it
And how easy it should be
—David Crowder, Praise the Lord