Martha was so frustrated with her marriage. She had dreams of marrying her knight in shining armor who would leave flower petals on her pillow, be distracted by her beauty, and pledge his undying love on a regular basis.  She dreamed of having three doting, obedient, well-mannered children that she could dress-up in cute little outfits and parade down the church aisle on Sundays. 

Her tidy home would come with a well manicured lawn, two and a half baths, and perfectly coordinated décor. She would be the happy homemaker who joyfully mopped the beautiful kitchen floor in her size six khaki slacks, shabby chic blouse, and stylish hair cut. 

She could almost picture Mr. Clean winking at her from the corner of the room, giving his hearty approval of the smile on her flawless face.

But life had not turned out like Martha expected.  Her knight did come along, but his armor began to tarnish soon after they said, “I do.” He left his smelly socks on the floor, had a love affair with the TV remote, and hardly noticed all the work she did to keep the house clean and orderly.

Life sure has not turned out the way I thought it would, she thought.  I am bored and unappreciated.  Romance: that’s what I want.  This man wouldn’t know romance if it hit him in the face.  Why should I care how I look?  He sure doesn’t care about his appearance.  Look at that gut?  He complains about me gaining weight?  Well, he hasn’t seen nothin’ yet.  I’ve made a huge mistake.  I just want someone who will love me and appreciate me.  Is that too much to ask?

And the kids? They never do what I ask.  They’re disobedient, loud, and messy.  I don’t know when I’ve seen a clean floor last and I’m sure not happy while mopping.  And where is Mr. Clean anyway?

The enemy had slowly crept in while Martha was unaware. Unmet expectations became the breeding ground for the lies to grow. He planted the seeds of discontent one disappointment at a time. Rather than thinking how she could make her marriage better, she began thinking about how she could get out of it. Rather than enjoying her rambunctious spirited children, she loathed their energy.  Rather than being thankful that she had a home and family to clean up after, she complained about the dirt.

Martha just needs to give her life to Jesus, you might say.  But she has!  She is a Christian, so on top of her disappointment with life, she adds guilt to it all.  I’m a bad Christian, she thinks.  If I was a better Christian, I’d be happy.  What’s wrong with me?