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The other day, I was curled up with a warm cup of tea, ready to revisit The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. It had been about five years since I last read it, and I remembered it being the literary equivalent of a motivational speech from a wise old wizard. I needed that energy again.

What I wasn’t expecting? A Bible verse ambushing me on the very first page.

I blinked. Flipped back. Flipped forward. Nope, still there. Was The Alchemist about to turn into The Apostle? I was baffled.

But then, something even stranger happened—I couldn’t move past it. This one little passage grabbed me by the collar and refused to let go. Here it is, in all its theologically mic-drop-worthy glory:

Now while they were on their way, they entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed Jesus into her home.

She had a sister named Mary, who seated herself at the lord’s feet listening to His teaching.

But Martha was very busy and distracted with all her serving responsibilities, and she approached Him and said:

Lord, is it of no concern to You that my sister has left me to do the serving alone? Tell her to help me!

But the Lord replied to her: Martha, Martha, you are worried and bothered about many things; but Mary has chosen the good part, which will not be taken away from her. (Luke 10:38-42)

To truly convey the depth of meaning I drew from this verse and the mark it left on me, allow me to reimagine the scene with just a little bit more drama.

Now, picture this: Jesus rolls into a village, and Martha, the ultimate hostess with the mostest, welcomes Him into her home. But her sister, Mary? Oh no, she’s not in the kitchen chopping onions—she’s parked at Jesus’s feet, hanging onto His every word like He’s dropping the greatest TED Talk of all time.

Meanwhile, Martha is running around like a contestant on MasterChef: Ancient Israel Edition, sweating over the pita bread, refilling the wine, and making sure everything is perfect. Finally, she’s had enough. She marches up to Jesus, probably still holding a wooden spoon, and says:

“Lord, does it not bother You that my sister has left me to do all the serving alone? Tell her to help me!”

And Jesus, in classic chill mode, replies:

“Martha, Martha, you are worried and bothered about many things; but Mary has chosen the good part, which will not be taken away from her.”

Translation? Martha, relax. Your sister is busy unlocking the secrets of the universe, and you’re worried about whether the hummus is smooth enough.

And scene.

Now, I’ve read a lot of wisdom-infused scripture in my time, but this one? This one hit hard. At first, I took it at face value—some profound lesson about focusing on God’s word rather than being caught up in daily distractions. Neat. Moving on.

Except…I couldn’t move on. This verse was living rent-free in my head for weeks. I kept circling back to it, trying to figure out why it rattled me so much.

And then, the epiphany came—not in a church, not through deep meditation, but while watching a documentary about billionaires called How to Become a Billionaire on Prime Video. Because, apparently, divine revelation comes in strange packaging.

The documentary followed three billionaires with outrageously ambitious goals: mining the moon (sure, why not?), uploading human consciousness into robots (for immortality, no big deal), and creating the biggest social networking app in Silicon Valley. Casual Tuesday stuff.

Despite their wildly different goals, they all had one thing in common: they weren’t out here seeking approval or worried about what other people thought. They weren’t running around being Marthas, trying to do all the “right” things society expects. They were locked in, single-mindedly chasing what actually mattered to them. They were the Marys of the world.

See, society has two types of people:

1. The Marthas—always busy, always stressed, constantly drowning in a sea of responsibilities, trying to keep up with what everyone else expects of them.
2. The Marys—fully tuned in to their passion, oblivious to the noise, chasing their dreams with single-minded enthusiasm.

Jesus, in His infinite wisdom, basically said: “Martha, chill. Mary is doing what actually matters.” And that’s when it hit me: The good part isn’t about ditching housework—it’s about choosing what truly fuels your soul.

And let’s be real, we’ve all had a little Martha moment. Ever scrolled through Instagram, seen someone living their dream life, and thought, Must be nice—while drowning in work, errands, and existential dread? That’s classic Martha energy right there. But here’s the thing: resenting the Marys of the world won’t get you anywhere. If anything, it’s just wasted energy that could’ve been used to build your dream.

So, if you find yourself bitter that some free-spirited Mary is out there writing poetry in Bali while you’re stuck in back-to-back meetings, take a step back. Ask yourself: Am I choosing the good part? Or am I just worried and bothered about many things?

A few practical steps:

• Observe the Marys. Not with jealousy, but with curiosity. What are they doing differently?
• Work Through the Bitterness. If you catch yourself resenting someone else’s success, flip the script. Use it as motivation.
• Choose Your Passion, Unapologetically. The world has enough stressed-out Marthas. Be a Mary.

And in case you’re wondering, yes, it’s still possible to chase your dreams without leaving dishes in the sink.

So, let me leave you with Jesus’s words, one last time:

“Martha, Martha, you are worried and bothered about many things; but Mary has chosen the good part, which will not be taken away from her.”

Now go forth and choose the good part—before you find yourself angrily scrubbing pots and wondering why life feels so unfair.

Or, as The Alchemist so famously puts it:

“And when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”

…Unless that something is just a clean kitchen. Then, well, you’re on your own.