2026: KPIs with Martha & Mary

Kingdom Performance Indicators (KPIs)

A Kingdom Recalibration for the New Year

Fresh, clean, lovely January. Can you smell it?

I love the new year. I clean up Christmas on New Year's Day.
I want to start anew, fresh, clean, tidy, crisp. With a grateful pause, I put the red and green explosion away, smiling at the beauty and fun that we just had. I return my homemade grapevine wreath with the pale teal letter 'd' (yes, lowercase) to its home on our front door with confident expectation for the year ahead. If I weren't Jeniklaus, I dare say that New Year's is my favorite holiday.

And still — every January, that clean slate comes with a quiet reckoning.

I'll be daggum if a new year doesn't boast cuss words like audit, gap, deficiency, KPI, mitigation. Think: BMI, diets, hydrate. Dun dun dun.

We mold ourselves into performance frameworks that forget we're human.
Let's be real, BMI is a whole sham.

I want to flip the script. Instead of Key Performance Indicators (KPIs), maybe KPIs would be more sustainable (and fricking attainable) as 'Kingdom Performance Indicators.'

The turn of a new year invites audits.

We audit goals.
We audit budgets.
We audit performance.
We audit people.

But rarely do we audit what we’ve been measuring all along.

January has a funny way of turning those inherited metrics into resolutions — dressed up as fresh starts, annual planning, POAMs, roadmaps & timelines, but all of them built on the same old scorecards.

Resolutions aren’t foolish — they’re honest attempts to live better — but they collapse when they’re built on measurements that were never meant to carry the weight of our worth.

Most people don’t consciously select their KPIs. I'll take Corrective Actions for $500, Ken.
We inherit them from culture, industry, leadership models, Vanity Fair, and survival instincts. Social media will give you every goal you never needed. Over time, those metrics stop being tools and quietly become judges.

Titles become proof.
Salary becomes safety.
Growth becomes purpose.
Availability becomes faithfulness.

None of these things are inherently wrong.
But none of them are neutral.

We come into the new year hopeful, caffeinated, and convinced this is the season we finally get it right — without asking who defined “right” in the first place.

If January has ever left you discouraged by February, this recalibration is for you.

The Bible tells a story that exposes this tension with surprising clarity—not in a boardroom, but in a living room.

A Resolution Moment

The scene is from Luke 10:38-42. A small gathering.

Jesus enters a home shared by two sisters. Martha greets Him at the door.

Both love Him.
Both welcome Him.
Both are responding sincerely to His presence.

Martha hosts. Mary is present.

Martha's love language is no doubt Acts of Service, and love Him she does.

Martha moves quickly—preparing, organizing, managing the moment, the timing, the lighting, the menu, the seating. She carries responsibility well. She's got that gift of hospitality. She notices what’s missing. She feels accountable for the experience. Daggum.

That kind of accountability is heavy. I've executed fancy events with hundreds of guests, but I've never hosted The Light of the Whole Wide World live and in person.
I'm not in my feelings at all for Martha's plight.
If the moment falls flat, it’s on her. No thanks, sis.
If something is missing, she’ll be the one who notices — and the one who didn’t fix it in time.
Responsibility doesn’t just shape her actions; it shapes her sense of worth. Sheesh.

Mary sits.
Her love language, probably Quality Time.

She doesn’t disengage.
She doesn’t rebel.
She chooses stillness.

This is not a story of diligence versus laziness.
It’s a story of what gets measured under pressure.

Martha: The KPI-Driven Operator

Martha represents the high-capacity leader—the one who feels the weight of outcomes. Hi, it's me, I'm Martha.

Check out verses 39-40, “And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving.”

Much: an excess that overwhelms capacity.

Her internal metrics are unspoken but loud:

• Is the work done?
• Is everyone contributing?
• Is this moment being handled well?
• Am I failing if I stop?
• Let me go check on the unleavened bread right quick.

These aren’t operational questions.
They’re moral ones.
They decide whether she’s faithful or failing — useful or in the way.

Her frustration doesn’t come from apathy.
It comes from responsibility as identity.

She is not distracted by wrongdoing, mistakes, or sin.
She is distracted by many things.

Good things.
Necessary things.

Mary: The Presence-Centered Disciple

Mary measures something else entirely.

Back at those verses, we see Mary sitting at the feet of Jesus.
Whew. Just consider it. My eyes tear up.

Her KPI is singular:

• Is Jesus here?
• Am I listening?
• Am I present?

She doesn’t deny the work.
She defers it.

Mary understands something subtle but profound:
Proximity precedes productivity.

This isn’t passivity.
It’s discernment.

It's clinging to Peace Himself.

Fresh, clean, peace.

The Metric Jesus Names

Eventually, Martha stops talking to herself and starts talking to Jesus.
She doesn’t ask for help — she asks for correction.
She wants Jesus to validate her metrics and enforce them on someone else.

Luke 10:40 plain as day: "And she went up to him and said, ‘Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me."

Jesus doesn’t shame Martha’s performance.
He doesn’t praise Mary’s disposition.

He diagnoses the problem beneath the performance.

Jesus responds to what Martha is measuring, not what she is doing.

“Martha, Martha… you are worried and upset about many things.”

Such regular language. Upset about many things...

The issue isn’t service.
It’s internal measurement.

Then Jesus names the KPI that matters:

“But only one thing is necessary.”

Not many.
Not balanced.
Not optimized.
Not capitalized.

One.

Mary has chosen the better portion—not because Martha’s work is wrong, but because presence cannot be postponed without cost.

When Good Metrics Become Bad Masters

This story endures because it repeats itself on the regular. Every year for folks like yours truly.

Martha isn’t angry because she’s doing too much.
She’s angry because what she’s doing has become how she knows she belongs.
Service is no longer an offering — it’s evidence.
Evidence that she’s needed.
Evidence that she’s faithful.
Evidence that she matters.
And when Mary sits down, it doesn’t just disrupt the workflow — it threatens the system Martha has been using to measure herself.

Responsibility quietly turns into anxiety.
Service becomes self-justification.
Productivity becomes identity.
Faith becomes hurried instead of rooted.

Burnout rarely comes from doing bad things.
It comes from doing too many good things measured the wrong way.

When the scoreboard is misaligned, even faithful people fracture.

Kingdom Performance Indicators

Wanting a reset isn’t the problem — January was made for it — but resets collapse when we carry forward the same measurements and expect a different outcome.

As 2026 begins, I find Martha & Mary inviting me to a different audit.

Not resolutions.
Not reinvention.

A recalibration.

Kingdom KPIs sound quieter, steadier, whole:

• Presence over pace
• Faithfulness over visibility
• Obedience over outcome
• Rest over reaction
• Listening over fixing
• Faith without five-year plans

These metrics won’t trend upward in impressive scattery histogram charts.
But they produce lives that can endure pressure without losing clarity.

Lessons Learned

This case study isn't theoretical for me. Martha’s way of measuring feels uncomfortably familiar. Daggum.

By title.
By salary.
By visibility.
By constant availability.
By muchness and more.

Like Martha, I wasn’t distracted by bad things. I was distracted by many things — budgets to protect, people to support, growth to sustain, expectations to manage. Responsibility became identity. Availability became virtue. And service became proof that I mattered.

I ran ahead of my own pace, carrying outcomes that weren’t mine to carry. I confused responsiveness with wisdom and motion with obedience. Over time, the metrics I trusted extracted a cost I didn’t see coming — my health, my clarity, and eventually my role.

Martha and Mary are teaching me this: both sisters loved Jesus. Both were sincere. But only one chose presence as the measure of faithfulness. The other measured herself by output — and paid for it internally before anything ever collapsed externally.

Faithfulness mismeasured will eventually extract a price.

And sometimes the most faithful thing we can do is stop, sit down, and let our metrics be redefined.

A Simple Audit for 2026

Before you set new goals, ask:

• What am I currently measuring that Jesus never named?
• Which metric produces the most anxiety in me?
• What would “the better portion” look like in this season—not ideally, but realistically?

You don’t need perfect answers — just enough honesty to notice what’s been quietly driving you.

Then choose one Kingdom KPI for the year ahead.

Not ten.
Not permanent.
Just one.

The Better Portion Remains

Jesus ends the case study with a promise:

“Mary has chosen the better part, and it will not be taken away from her.”

Better doesn’t mean easier.
Better doesn’t mean less responsibility.

Better means aligned.

Alignment that cannot be taken away.

What if our resolutions were less about becoming more and more about becoming rightly aligned?

• Get healthy — not to tip the scale, but to have the strength, clarity, and steadiness to live well and love people fully.
• Grow spiritually — not to appear disciplined, but to know God’s voice well enough to rest, obey, and trust Him without fear.
• Be more present — not to optimize my time, but to give my attention where love actually lives.
• Hydrate - because it's good for you.

As you step into 2026, may your KPIs lead you closer to God, to clarity, and to a life that no longer confuses checklists with meaning.

Action Item

Before 2026 asks anything of you, sit with the One who says, “Learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” Matt 11:29

Mary did — she sat at His feet and listened.
Let that be enough to begin.

May you find rest there in 2026. 🤍