All you have to do is...

I get drawn in by titles like this one. You see, I’m good at doing things. I love to do lists.

My favourite thing is to add stuff that I’ve finished, just so I can cross it off. If I didn’t get around to writing a new post as intended, I still get a sense of satisfaction from seeing ‘washing up’ and ‘take out the bins’ with big ticks next to them.

Getting things done is great.

But sometimes, there isn't anything to be done. When the issue is outside my circle of influence, as Steven Covey put it years ago, though I can worry and fret and worry some more - I can't actually do anything. Or when the issue is just going to take time. Or when the ball is in someone else's court and they are just looking at it - even when the ball has a massive sign on it telling them what they should do.

Some things are made to be endured. Some times are made to be endured.

And in those times, all I have to do is... nothing.

That’s exactly where my kids have found themselves.

Hanh had been in a rough place. Trafficked into the UK by a criminal gang, forced into illegal labour, no contact with friends or family, no English, and being fed lies to keep him trapped. 'The police in England sell you into slavery if they find you here,' they told him. 'You're better off with us, we can keep you safe from them. And anyway, you owe us for getting you here, and you have to pay for board and lodging. Until it's all paid off, you need to work. Remember we know where your sister is... '.

There was nothing for him to do but wait. And wait he did, until one day the police did find him, and his world turned upside down. Transferred from prison to hostel to foster care, from one social work team to another, he ended up, confused and scared and exhausted, in my home.

We had a rough start. And yet, a couple of months after he’d arrived, Hanh was in a really good place. He knew his routines at home. He had a translator coming twice a week so he could communicate ideas that google translate just scrambled. We'd found some foods he liked and he’d started cooking for himself, cleaning his own room and using the washing machine. He was enjoying college and had made some friends. He was playing football every week. He had experienced healthcare from the GP that had helped deal with some minor issues.

Let's be honest - there was still a lot that was desperately difficult for him. Months of trauma and deception don’t just disappear in a few weeks. He faced a hostile immigration system. Many support services were still closed due to Covid. And my Vietnamese cooking was hit and miss. (His face when I tried to make a rice gruel that is apparently everyone's favourite comfort food... not like that, it isn't!).

But his life had turned an enormous corner, and everything was on track.

If he just stayed, he'd gain English skills

If he just stayed, he'd make good friends

If he just stayed, he'd learn who he could really trust

If he just stayed, he'd be supported through his asylum claim

If he just stayed, he'd get to know a wider family willing to take him into their hearts.

All he had to do was stay. Was wait. Was let one day pass and then another... riding out the highs and lows, the days Man U were beaten and the visits to the dentist and the rules about not smoking in the house.

It was the one thing he couldn't do.

I'll probably never know how it happened (oh but I pray that one day he'll be free, and he'll come back and tell me his story!)... but the traffickers' hold over him was too strong. And somehow they persuaded him that waiting was too hard.

And so, one day, he walked away.

He took action - and in doing so he threw away everything good that was set up for him, the plans to prosper and not to harm, for his hope and his future. He took action - and walked back into slavery and deception and cruelty. He went after what seemed good to him - and it was not.

And it makes me weep.

And it makes me wonder, how often do we do the same?

In this cruel and broken world, where things don't make sense, where we are told lies to keep us from freedom... where we desire so much the good that we can see, that we set our hearts on... where staying and waiting and letting one more day pass and riding out the storms seems so hard...

How often do we get up and walk - without knowing that we are walking right out of the blessing and provision and beauty that is set up to bear fruit right in the middle of the pain we were enduring?

Hanh didn't have much to go on. Set against all the lies he was being fed was the feeble and inconsistent love that I could offer him - love tainted by my selfishness, marred by badly cooked meals and cultural differences and misunderstandings and rendered into gobbledygook by google translate. A few weeks weren't long enough for him to trust that I was good when his world still felt bad.

We have a lot more to go on than he did.

In John 15 we read the famous words, "Remain in me... you cannot bear fruit unless you remain in me... I am the vine; you are the branches; if you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit..."

Remain - or in other translations, abide. Stay. Don't walk out. It's repeated ten times in v1-17. You'd think Jesus was trying to tell us something.

It can mean other things too. The same word can be rendered be joined, rest, dwell, tabernacle and endure. The idea in v16 of 'fruit that will last' uses the same term. So this 'abiding' is not just a passive thing. It makes sense when you think about Hanh. Abiding for him would have meant getting into a routine, working hard on his English, making friends, putting down some roots, taking risks to become known, gritting his teeth through the frustration and irritation, growing in skills, accepting help, becoming more relaxed, slowly being changed in a million healthy ways that respected the real Hanh at the centre of it all.

To remain would have meant effort, vulnerability, grit, practice, determination, courage.

What does it mean for you at the moment?

Here's another example. When the Israelites were caught between a rock and a hard place - between the Red Sea and the pursuing Egyptian army - what was God's instruction to them?

Exodus 14:13-14: "Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today... the Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still."

Do not be afraid, stand firm, be still. Don't run away. Don't take it into your own hards. Don't find your own desperate solution. Don't panic. Don't throw away the good that the Lord has planned for you, that lies just around the corner, where you can't see it - but he can. Don't run away before the miracle appears.

To be still meant trust, risk, waiting, uncertainty, obedience and, again, courage.

What does it mean for you at the moment?

And here's the heart of the matter: abiding, remaining, standing firm, being still - it only makes sense if someone bigger than us has done what is needed to bring good things out of the mess I see today.

Hanh didn't think he had someone big enough. The good things were there, but he couldn't see them, and we couldn't convince him.

The Someone we have is far bigger. We may not be able to see the good things to come in the mess of today - not yet... But surely all he has done throughout history and our stories shows us that he does do all that is needed to bring good things out of the mess.

And so we can choose to stay. To wait. To let one day pass and then another... riding out the highs and lows, the days Man U are beaten and the visits to the dentist and the rules about not smoking in the house.

Abide. Rest. Endure. Stand firm. Be still.