THE LINC COLLECTIVE

Scriptures: Luke 10:38–42; Luke 4:18–21; Isaiah 61:1; John 15:5

What Am I Connected to?

There is a quiet misunderstanding that has settled into the language of many believers when we speak about “the anointing.” We’ve made it mystical, rare, and reserved for a select few—the ones with microphones, platforms, or extraordinary gifts. But what if the anointing was never meant to be something you achieve, but Someone you abide with?

This is where the story of Mary and Martha becomes more than a familiar passage—it becomes a revelation.

Jesus enters their home, and Martha responds with activity. She serves, prepares, organizes—faithfully doing what is expected. Mary, however, chooses something different. She sits. And in that moment, Jesus gently reframes everything: “One thing is needed.”

This is not a rebuke of service. It is an invitation to source.

The anointing is not something you perform. It is someone you sit with.

Before there were ever “anointed people,” there was the Anointed One—Jesus. Luke 4 shows Him declaring this boldly: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because He has anointed Me…” He is not pointing to a concept. He is revealing Himself as the source.

And this changes everything.

Because if Jesus is the source of all anointing, then the flow of power in our lives does not begin with striving—it begins with connection. It does not come from how much we do, but from who we are with.

Martha was not wrong in her devotion. She was simply drawing from the wrong place. Her service, disconnected from intimacy, left her anxious, troubled, and frustrated. And if we are honest, we know that feeling well. It is possible to be near Jesus, even busy for Jesus, and still feel drained, unseen, or disconnected.

Close proximity is not the same as deep connection.

You can sit in a church service, serve on a team, lead in your family, and still miss the life that flows from simply being with Him. This is the tension many live in—faithful on the outside, but weary within.

Yet Jesus, in His kindness, does not correct Martha’s behavior first. He calls her name.

“Martha, Martha…”

This is the language of divine interruption. Of loving realignment. Of being called back, not to performance, but to presence. He is not exposing her failure—He is inviting her into fullness.

And what He offers her, He offers us: a return to the “one thing.”

Mary chose to sit at His feet—not as an act of passivity, but as a posture of discipleship. It is the place where identity is formed, where hearts are shaped, and where grace is received. From that place, everything changes.

The anointing flows from connection, not activity.

Jesus says in John 15, “I am the vine, you are the branches… apart from Me you can do nothing.” Branches don’t strive to produce fruit—they remain connected. Life flows naturally from abiding.

This is the great invitation of the Gospel: not to live for Jesus in our own strength, but to live from Jesus through deep union.

And here is the breathtaking truth—if you are in Christ, you are already anointed.

Not because of your perfection, but because of your position.

The same Spirit that rested on Jesus now dwells within you. That means the grace you long for, the power you need, the strength you seek—it is not distant. It is present. It is personal. It is already within reach through Him.

But there is another layer to this invitation: identity.

God does not anoint who you are pretending to be. He anoints who you are in Him.

So many of us live shaped by expectation, comparison, or insecurity. We try to mirror what looks anointed in others, hoping it will unlock something in us. But heaven is not looking for imitation—it is looking for authenticity formed in Christ.

When you know who you are—a son, a daughter, chosen, favored, called—something shifts. You stop striving for approval and start living from identity. You become like a child who simply believes, “I am loved. I belong. I carry something of God.”

And from that place, the anointing flows freely.

This message is not a call to withdraw from responsibility or abandon the rhythms of real life. There are still meals to cook, children to raise, work to do, and assignments to carry. But it is a call to shift the source.

To move from anxiety to abiding.
From striving to sitting.
From performing to receiving.

Because when ordinary people sit with Jesus, extraordinary power begins to flow.

And perhaps today, more than anything else, heaven is whispering your name—not once, but twice. Calling you back. Not to do more, but to be with Him.

To remember that the anointing is not out there somewhere, waiting for you to earn it.

It is found in Him.
And He is already here.