A jar of alabaster oil

Being emptied at the feet of Jesus

My mother instilled in me a valuable life skill I still carry today: walking aimlessly.

When my two siblings and I were kids and there wasn’t a car available to us, we’d walk miles in the scorching sun to make it to mass at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church. We’d enter the sanctuary room with church attire (always a knee-length dress and flats), drenched in sweat and usually with blisters on our feet. But we were there. We were present.

I’m a Reformed Protestant now, but even then, it taught me the value of gathering consistently with other believers.

That’s a conversation for another day.

But most of the time, our walks weren’t headed anywhere specific. We’d travel long distances on foot just for the sake of exercise and good conversation (and I’ll add with more appropriate athletic wear).

It wasn’t until I became an adult, buried under the weight of endless responsibilities and to-do lists, that I fully grasped why my mother treasured her walks so deeply. They were more than just a way to pass the time—they were a quiet escape, a rare moment of peace amidst the chaos, where she could clear her mind and reclaim a sense of calm.

So when I got married I, too, practiced the art of walking aimlessly.

For a while, I stuck to walking around my neighborhood, but I never really enjoyed it. Neighbors would often come out and try to chat, and as an introvert, that’s not exactly my idea of a peaceful walk. I craved solitude. Silence. A space where I could be deeply moved by the beauty of my surroundings.

Ultimately, I longed for a nature trail. Not just any nature trail, a nature trail that felt like home. One I could go to time and time again through different seasons of life. My own quiet escape.

It took four years, but finally found it—a beautiful nature trail ironically just 10 minutes from my house. I first walked this trail back in June 2022 long before my daughter was a glimmer in my eye. I mostly walked on weekends, spending hours listening to Paul Wascher sermons and the Gospel Coalition Podcast. By November 2023, I was walking it again, this time 38 weeks pregnant, carrying the weight of anticipation and new beginnings.

And now, on an ordinary Monday afternoon, I return to this trail for the first time since giving birth. The air felt different, crisp. Strong gusts of wind pushed against my (heavier) postpartum body.

The real change isn’t in my surroundings though, but in me. I’m not the same woman I was a year ago—my perspective, my priorities, the way I carry myself have shifted. I feel it in every step I take. The biggest difference between who I was then and now?

I’m finally accepting that productivity isn’t the same as God’s purpose.

I used to equate my worth to how much I accomplished, constantly measuring myself by tasks completed and goals achieved.

This translated to my faith too. As a young believer, I joined the worship band, volunteered in youth ministry, and for years served to do more for the Kingdom of God. My life was a desperate cry. Look at me God, look at all I can do for you!

I may have appeared as a devoted servant, but deep inside, I felt empty. My desire to serve came from a place of fear, not humble adoration.

But now, having been stripped of my pride after a mental health episode early last year, I’m learning that God’s will for my life is to be with him. That’s it. My works mean nothing if the Lord doesn’t sit on the throne of my heart.

I read this scripture months ago but oh how precious it has been to me. Just a few days before Passover and the Feast of Unleavened Bread, Jesus is anointed at Bethany:

3 And while he was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, as he was reclining at table, a woman came with an alabaster flask of oil, very costly, and she broke the flask and poured it over his head. 4 There were some who said to themselves indignantly, “Why was the oil wasted like that? 5 For this ointment could have been sold for more than three hundred denarii and given to the poor.” And they scolded her. 6 But Jesus said, “Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a beautiful thing to me.

7 For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you want, you can do good for them. But you will not always have me. 8 She has done what she could; she has anointed my body beforehand for burial. 9 And truly, I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.”

-Mark 14:3-9

In a world that often measures our value by our productivity, achievements, and the constant hustle for recognition, it's easy to believe our worth is tied to what we do.

Yet, in the quiet, gentle invitation of Jesus, there is a different message. He calls us not to do more for him, but to enter into a greater intimacy with him. He calls us to pour out our oil.

I’ll admit, I’m constantly tempted to submit to a works-based gospel. And this is what my conversations with the Lord have looked like as of recently:

Look, Lord, my pastor is leading a group to Israel. Can you please call me to go? That sounds amazing. I want to walk where you have walked.

Just pour oil on my head.

Women have written books after coming out of a psych ward. What if I write a memoir around my pain? You must have put me through this for some reason. What are you calling me to?

Just pour oil on my head.

Being a stay-at-home mom feels insignificant. Why am I only called to this and nothing more? I want to do great things in your name, Lord.

Just pour oil on my head.

Steffany Gretzsinger’s words to a group of worship leaders and musicians convicted me even more as I’ve reflected on the idea of “calling”. I came across the video years ago and it still gives me chills:

@steffanygretzingerfanHe is your calling, this is not and it never will be. Even if you do this, it will be overflow. Lord we bring you high praise. 🕊 . . #christian #worship #devotion #holy #steffanygretzinger #worshipleader

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He is your calling. [Leading worship] is not. And it will never be. Even if you [lead worship]. It’ll be overflow. If [leading worship] is your calling, you’ll go home empty every time and you’ll be mortified when you go to bed at night because He didn’t come. And you’ll wonder where His presence was. You told me to do this. You called me to this. Where were you?

People like that walk away from the gospel. Because they didn’t know Jesus. They wanted to do something great for Him. And maybe it started in an innocent way. They did what they knew. But they never knew better. Because they didnt go [to the word]. They waited for the applause, the reception. They waited to look at a room to find out if they were doing the thing.

It’s why we’ve got stadiums filling where we have lots of energy and not high praise. And there’s not even any discernment anymore about the difference between the two.

There’s a big difference between oil and adrenaline. But if you don’t know the difference you don’t know the difference.

Replace “leading worship” with anything that may take up room in your heart. Above it all, He is your calling, friend.

He is your calling.

He is your calling.

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One evening, as the quiet of the night settled over our home, I felt a stirring in my heart. I knew the Lord had been calling me closer to him but I didn’t know exactly what that meant. Last year had been a long one for us, and we both sensed God was calling us to walk through His word together specifically.

In 2020, I listened to Alisa Childers’ podcast. In one of her episodes, I heard about Tara Leigh Cobble and her resource, The Bible Recap. It was designed to guide readers through the Bible in a year, helping them place events in the order they happened. The idea of journeying through the entire Bible—not just reading through it randomly but understanding the timeline, the flow, and how everything connects—resonated with me.

I sat there for a moment, reflecting on the power of God’s Word and how much I longed for us to dive deeper together and strengthen our relationship with Him and with each other.

Then, without hesitation, I turned to my husband.

“What if we do The Bible Recap?” I suggested, my voice full of excitement. He looked at me, thoughtful for a moment, and then nodded. “Yeah, I think that sounds like a great idea.”

And just like that, we made a pact.

A pact to walk “aimlessly” through the Bible together. To let it shape us, and let it lead our faith wherever it may lead.

We’ve made it pretty far already. I’m in the book of Proverbs, and my husband is further along in the book of Ecclesiastes. We know for now, no matter what changes in our lives, that this is our calling—to pour out our oil and seek after Him, to pour out our oil until there’s nothing left.