Letting Go of Our Lists
I don’t know about you, but I love a good list. Lists keep me focused and organized. Lists ensure my scattered brain doesn’t forget anything. Lists provide security.
In twelve days from the time of this writing, I’m going on a mission trip to Phnom Penh, Cambodia. Our team will be partnering with The Hard Places Community to raise awareness of the sex trafficking that occurs there daily, and to share Jesus with boys who have been or who are currently being trafficked.
In preparation for this trip, I have three lists: Cambodia Packing List, Things to Do Before Cambodia, and What to Buy for Cambodia. My lists are neat and tidy, with little boxes beside each line item so I can tick off each one. Completing each task or making each purchase gets me one step closer to being ready to leave my husband and children behind. I find a sense of assurance in making these lists. They make sure nothing catches me off guard.
Yet as I check off boxes for these tangible, easy tasks, my heart grows heavy—not because I’ll miss my family (although I will), not because I’m afraid (although I am), but because sometimes, no matter what I do, a list is not enough. No inventory, no neatly written set of tasks can eradicate human trafficking. No boxes to check, 1–2–3, will help a child recover from the trauma of daily rape. Lists mean nothing where I’m going. Suffering refuses to be reduced to items crossed off on a sheet of paper.
Order, structure, and predictability are not luxuries human trafficking provides. But here is what I know: despite the chaos that surrounds the trafficking industry, our God is a God of order. My lists are nothing compared to the sovereign power of the Lord. God’s timing is perfect, and while I don’t understand why I’m unable to single-handedly fix humanity with a piece of paper and a hot-pink Flair pen, The One Who Heals does. His understanding surpasses mine, so instead of fixing, I will trust.
Having become a Christian as an adult, it’s easier for me to believe in God than it is to trust him. In reflection, I have always looked at situations like slavery and trafficking and tried to do “my part.” Whether buying fair-trade coffee or giving up chocolate that isn’t ethically sourced, I did what was in my power, in my control. Yet in my own humanity, I forgot to cry out to the One Who Redeems. What I cannot do in my own power, God can in his. When I try to solve problems on my own, my lack of trust in God is revealed.
What does it look like to trust God completely? To believe that there will be beauty from the ashes of child sex trafficking? To see the beauty that already exists in the people and the country of Cambodia? Maybe it looks like Jesus. Jesus so perfectly models this trust. He saw suffering and hurt and pain, and he trusted his Father to heal it all.
Perhaps the world needs less of me and more of Jesus, less of my lists and timelines and more of his peace and healing. This isn’t groundbreaking information, but it’s truth I must remind myself of daily. Jesus showed up and followed God’s will, but he also stepped aside and let God work. God’s will and power flowed through Jesus, bringing peace and comfort to those he healed.
My circumstances and yours might look different. Maybe instead of going on a mission trip, you need to trust God to capture the heart of a friend or family member. Maybe you need to stop striving in your own power and trust God with your kids or coworkers. Maybe you’ve looked at fostering or adoption websites and made excuses, and now it’s time to listen to him about bringing a child into your home. Whatever our circumstances, it’s time to stop making lists and start trusting.
Friend, you and I are probably similar. We have the best of intentions, we love people, we love Jesus. Part of loving Jesus is trusting the God who gave him to us. Trusting that no matter how evil our world seems, or how out of control it is, God loves us, cares for us, and will one day wipe every tear from our eyes. We can count on that because he doesn’t break his promises to us. He is unfaltering in his love and perfect in his timing.
Let’s tear up our lists today, shall we? Together, let’s toss the pieces around like confetti and celebrate the good God who heals, who brings peace, and whose sovereignty we can trust. Let’s lay down what we can do and pick up the faith it takes to ask God to do what only he can.
is a full-time Army wife and mom, and an occasional teacher of first graders. She is an unapologetic follower of Jesus and the University of North Carolina Tar Heels. Becky holds a bachelor’s degree in Elementary Education from UNC, and dreams of writing a book. She blogs at beckyyurisich.com.
Photograph © Lukasz Maznica, used with permission
