7. The Better Part

Paul's prayer in Ephesians 3 is enormous. He asks that believers be strengthened with power through the Spirit in their inner being, “so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith,” and that they be “filled with all the fullness of God.” Chapter 7, The Better Part, asks what it means that Mary chose her portion, and it presses a question most of us dodge: how much of God do I actually want?

Weaver uses a poem about wanting only a small, manageable portion of God. Hardly anyone says that out loud. We say yes to God, then fill the day so full that a small portion is all that fits. The chapter's spinning-hoops image fits here. Keep every hoop turning, whether work, family, church or home, and a quiet half hour starts to feel like dropping one.

Read Paul slowly. He doesn't pray that we would try harder. He prays for strength poured in. He pictures believers “rooted and grounded in love,” which makes love the soil rather than the assignment. Rooted things grow by staying put and being fed. Then he stacks up measurements, “the breadth and length and height and depth,” of a love that “surpasses knowledge.” You don't come to know something that surpasses knowledge by studying it from a distance. You know it the way you know a person, by time together. The goal Paul names is fullness, not a sample.

That is where the chapter's “big rocks first” idea connects with Matthew 6:33, where Jesus tells his listeners to seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and that the rest will be provided. “First” is less about the clock than about what holds everything else up. A small, protected first thing does more than a grand plan that falls apart by Thursday.

What about days when you don't feel anything? Weaver brings in the role of will versus feelings and points to David, Daniel and Jesus in Gethsemane. Daniel kept praying at his window three times a day even when it put him at risk (Daniel 6:10). In Psalm 5:3, David speaks of laying his requests before God in the morning and then watching expectantly. In Gethsemane, Jesus is in anguish, and he still asks that the Father's will be done rather than his own (Luke 22:42). For all three, choosing came before feeling.

The chapter also offers a “Journal the Journey” method, a way to record your walk with God as you go. Small notes can show you progress your feelings missed.

A word of care: if your feelings have stayed flat or heavy for weeks, and not only on busy days, talk with a pastor, counselor or doctor. That is not a failure of will.

Chapter 7 of the book asks an uncomfortable question: how much of God do you actually want? Weaver uses a spinning-hoops picture for the feeling of keeping up with every responsibility, and a poem about wanting only a small, manageable portion of God. Most of us would say we want all of him. Our calendars sometimes say otherwise.

Paul's prayer in Ephesians 3 shows what the full portion looks like. He asks that God “may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.” The word dwell is about settling in and making a home, not stopping by. Paul is not asking for a bigger weekly dose of Jesus. He is asking for Christ to be at home in the middle of you.

Then the prayer keeps stretching. He wants you, “being rooted and grounded in love,” to “have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.” Notice the odd phrase about knowing a love that surpasses knowledge. This is not facts you pass on a quiz. It is the way you know a person. And notice the destination: all the fullness of God. A small, tidy portion is not what is on offer.

So what keeps us from it? Often it is not rebellion but a crowded jar. The book brings in Matthew 6:33, where Jesus tells his followers to seek first the kingdom of God, along with the big-rocks-first picture. If you pour sand in first, the big rocks never fit. Whatever gets the first and best of your day tells the truth about what you want most.

Chapter 7 also takes on a question many women quietly carry: what if I do not feel like it? The book tests the role of will versus feelings by pointing to David, Daniel, and Jesus in Gethsemane. Daniel makes it plain. When praying became dangerous, Daniel 6:10 says he went home and prayed three times a day, just as he had done before. His habit carried him. In Gethsemane, Jesus, in anguish, still prayed and put his Father's will first (Luke 22:39-46). His feelings were loud, and he prayed anyway.

That is freeing. Closeness is not built on the mood you wake up with. You can choose a time and a place, show up, and trust God to meet you. Some mornings it will feel warm. Some mornings it will feel like plain obedience, and God honors that too.

Your practice is small on purpose: one habit, protected. And if you have felt numb or flat toward God for a long stretch, or if sadness has made prayer nearly impossible, tell a pastor, a counselor, or a trusted friend. That is not failure. It is wise care.