By SaraLeann A. Daddow 
I woke up to our fiercely dedicated rooster crowing at any hint of light on the farm. His loyalty to the sun was irritatingly inspiring. Wrapped under layers of flannel sheets, I watched the sun’s rays peak through the cracks of my bedroom shutters. It was Sunday. The day of worship. The day of celebrating our thankfulness. I knew the second I peeled the covers off, I’d meet the crisp winter morning with the chaos of roping our two boys into the truck for church. Well, here we go!
This Sunday morning routine ran like all the others, a collectively blurred scavenger hunt; I didn’t get a breath until we were at least a few miles down the road. You see, Sunday is the day my husband Max haphazardly jumps in to help with the morning routine. Although his intentions are genuine and aim to lighten my load, it feels like the order of his process undermines the efficiency of my routine.
I was in my usual place, stranded in the old rocking chair nursing our 3-month-old son Jack while Max was getting our 3-year-old son Denver ready. I sat and wondered . . . I hope he doesn’t pick out ratty play clothes for church. Will he remember to grab the extra diapers I set right next to the diaper bag?
Denver excitedly pops in Jacks room, “Mommy, I’m all ready for church!” A big smile filled his whole face, and he radiated pure joy. He didn’t know that his green plaid button down clashed with the striped sherpa vest Max picked out. Maybe Max didn’t know either. The question was, do I wrestle with control and redress him? Do I have time to? Or do I let him stride in his mismatched farmer look with delight?
As a mother, it is hard for me to let go and give up part of the morning routine duties or give up control of those responsibilities. You know, it’s the if I don’t do it, it doesn’t get done right kind of feeling. Parenthood is teaching me control leaves no room for grace. Max’s way vastly varies from how I do things. In fact, we couldn’t be more different in our routine processes. Our parenting foundation is jointly and deeply rooted, but we do small things differently.
In that moment as I wrestled with fixing Max’s way with my way, it hit me like the brisk morning that woke me up when I stepped out of the warm flannel sheets. Stop wrapping myself in the busyness of small details.
Luke 10:38-42 (ESV) says, “Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. 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. 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.’ But the Lord answered her, ‘Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.’”
I looked just like Martha, genuine in my commitment to Jesus, but I was slightly misguided in my intentions in that moment. The story of Martha and Mary is widely recognizable. In this world full of distractions and worldly influences, it is easy to become preoccupied with worry, swallowed by perfection, or be complacent in comparison. My responsibility doesn’t rest in controlling situations, circumstances or routines. No, that will quickly sap my strength, my faith and my relationships. My responsibility rests in surrendering my difficulties to better serve my God, my family, and my community.
So, that morning, I traded my chargeful impulse to fix Denver’s mismatched outfit for grace. I leaned into my faith. I surrendered control to God and gave Him my heart to become more gracious and understanding. You know what else is pretty cool? By surrendering my tendency to fix something, I am reassuring my husband that his way of doing something isn’t wrong at all. That kind of love I give to my husband in my choice to surrender, only comes from the grace of surrendering to God, and it furthers the covenant of our marriage we made with God.
Maybe, like me, you have a simple vexation you want to change or a habit that keeps recycling in your routine. Our God is a gracious God who will meet you wherever you are whenever you reach out to Him. Call out His name in prayer. It doesn’t need to be extravagant or a perfectly worded request. God knows your heart. He hears the small prayers that shape big desires. Talk to God. Truly, there is something to be said for the kind of peace and spiritual nourishment God delivers when you surrender even the smallest of troubles.
Originally published on the author’s Facebook page
by Ashley Bufe 
