Morning, sisters, this morning I just want to get straight to the point. I think because I woke up this morning with this urgent need for WORSHIP… there are moments when worship breaks the mould, when it spills like perfume across the floor, when it silences the room with its surrender.
I’ve been thinking of Mary of Bethany. She didn’t ask for permission. She didn’t wait for applause. She simply… poured out what was precious because Jesus was present. And I can’t help but linger there… in that room, in that moment, where the scent of surrender filled the air and the silence was holy.
I imagine her trembling hands, the sound of the jar breaking, the hush that fell as the oil touched His feet. And I think… my Saviour, my Jesus, was right there. Not just physically present, but fully aware, fully receiving, fully moved.
She didn’t pour out her worship because the room was worthy. She poured it because He was. He was the only precious one in that room. The only one worth the cost. The only one who understood the depth of her offering.
And I wonder if heaven leaned in. If angels paused. If the fragrance reached the throne before the cross did. Because when Jesus is present, everything else fades. And what we pour out in those moments… our tears, our treasure, our silence, becomes sacred.
This wasn’t just a woman with perfume. This was a daughter with revelation. She saw Him. She knew Him. And she gave Him everything.
Dear, Jesus… at Your feet, in Your Presence!
Gwennie
Sometimes I close my eyes and I’m there. Not in a temple. Not in a crowd. Just in a quiet room where You sit… and I’m close enough to touch Your feet.
I imagine the warmth of Your skin, the dust of the road still clinging to You, and I wonder how it felt for Mary to kneel there, to break the jar, to let the fragrance rise as her tears fell.
And I think… Would I have the courage to do the same? To pour out what I’ve been saving? To let go of what I thought was mine because You are here?
Oh Jesus, You are the only precious One in the room. The only One who doesn’t flinch at my silence, who doesn’t rush my surrender, who doesn’t shame my emotion.
I want to be there… not performing, not proving… just present. Just pouring. Just worshipping.
I want to wash Your feet with what I’ve held back. My time. My longing. My hidden places. I want to sit and not speak. To weep and not explain. To love You without needing to be understood.
Because You understand.
You receive.
You stay.
And in that moment,
I don’t need anything else.
Just You.
Just Your feet.
Just Your presence.
And isn’t that the kind of worship we long for? Not the kind that fits into tidy schedules or earns approval, but the kind that costs us something… our pride, our plans, our perfectly measured offerings.
In a world that values usefulness, Mary reminds us that love is the highest purpose. She didn’t preach. She didn’t serve the meal. She worshipped. And Jesus said she did a beautiful thing.
Who Was Mary of Bethany?
Mary of Bethany wasn’t just the sister of Martha and Lazarus, she was a prophetic witness to the worth of Jesus. Her story unfolds in three key moments, each revealing a layer of spiritual truth: She sat at His feet… Luke 10:38–42
When Jesus visited their home, Martha was busy serving, but Mary “sat at the Lord’s feet, listening to what He said.” This wasn’t laziness… it was spiritual hunger. In a culture where women were expected to serve, Mary chose to learn. She positioned herself as a disciple, defying social norms to prioritise intimacy over activity. Jesus didn’t rebuke her. He defended her.
“Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” – Luke 10:42 Worship begins with listening. Sitting at His feet is not passive… it’s the posture of revelation.
She wept at His feet — John 11:32–35
When Lazarus died, Mary ran to Jesus and fell at His feet again, this time in grief. She didn’t accuse. She didn’t demand. She simply wept. And Jesus wept with her. This moment reveals the tenderness of Christ. He doesn’t just raise the dead, He enters our sorrow.
John 11:35.
She poured out her worship — John 12:1–8
Six days before Passover, Mary broke open a jar of pure nard… worth a year’s wages, and anointed Jesus. She didn’t dab it politely. She poured it. She didn’t use a cloth. She used her hair. She didn’t wait for approval. She acted from love. The disciples called it waste. Jesus called it preparation.
“She has done this to prepare Me for burial.” – Matthew 26:12 Mary saw what others missed: Jesus was going to die. Her worship was prophetic. Biblical truth: True worship is costly. It’s often misunderstood. But it moves heaven.
Why does this matter today? Mary teaches us that worship isn’t performance… it’s presence. It’s not about doing more, it’s about being with our Abba Father. It’s not always loud – it’s sometimes silent, tearful. And it always begins at His feet.
So, dear sister, if you feel unseen, unheard, or misunderstood in your devotion, remember Mary. She didn’t preach. She didn’t lead. She didn’t serve the meal. She worshipped.
And Jesus said: “She has done a beautiful thing to Me.” – Mark 14:6
What Mary of Bethany Means for Us Today
Mary’s story is not just inspirational, it’s instructional. Her choices challenge modern assumptions about value, visibility, and spiritual maturity. In a culture that prizes productivity, platform, and performance, Mary’s life offers a countercultural blueprint for discipleship.
1. Presence Over Performance
In Luke 10, Mary chose to sit at Jesus’ feet while Martha served. This wasn’t a personality difference, it was a spiritual decision. Mary prioritised proximity to Jesus over the expectations of others. Today, many women feel pressure to “do more” in order to be seen as faithful. But Jesus affirmed Mary’s choice, saying she had chosen “what is better” (Luke 10:42).
Application: Your worth is not measured by how much you accomplish, but by how closely you walk with Christ. Time in His presence is not wasted, it’s foundational.
2. Private Surrender Over Public Approval
In John 12, Mary poured out expensive perfume on Jesus’ feet. The disciples, led by Judas, criticised her for the cost and extravagance. But Jesus defended her, saying she had prepared Him for burial. Her act was prophetic, intimate, and misunderstood.
Application: True worship often goes unnoticed or criticised by others. But God sees the heart. Acts of obedience done in secret, whether in prayer, parenting, or quiet service, carry eternal significance.
3. Intimacy Over Reputation
Mary’s actions broke cultural norms. She sat as a disciple, wept openly, and used her hair to wipe Jesus’ feet. These were bold, vulnerable choices. She wasn’t concerned with how she appeared; she was focused on honouring Jesus.
Application: In a world obsessed with image and influence, Mary reminds us that spiritual intimacy matters more than public perception. God honours authenticity over appearance.
4. Devotion That Lingers
John 12:3 says, “The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.” Her worship left a tangible impact. Long after the moment passed, the scent remained. That’s the nature of true devotion: it leaves a scent.
Application: Your faithfulness, whether in writing, mentoring, or simply showing up, creates a spiritual atmosphere that others experience. You may not see the impact immediately, but it endures.
Prayer: When I Just Want to Be Near You
Jesus, You are the One my soul loves. You are the One I long to sit beside, Even when the world keeps moving, Even when others call it waste. I bring You my alabaster jar… My time, my tears, my treasure. I break it open not for applause, But because You are worthy. Teach me to worship without fear, To pour without hesitation, To love without needing approval.
Let my devotion be fragrant, Let my silence be sacred, Let my posture speak louder than my words. You defended Mary. You received her offering. You called it beautiful. So I come with the same heart… Not to be seen, But to see You. Not to perform, But to pour. Not to impress, But to prepare.
Let my worship fill the room. Let my love prepare the way. Let my life be a testimony… Of what it means to choose the better portion. Amen.
