trust wins

This one word stirs up a whirlwind of emotions within me. What is trust, really? I know the definition but what does it mean to me?

I was part of a trust experiment a few years ago in which we were supposed to tell others, “I trust you with my cat. I trust you with my wallet. I trust you with my spouse.” I couldn’t do it. I walked out rather than say those words. It would have been a lie, would have been fake. I refuse to be less than my truth, so my defense mechanism is to just walk run away. (I am working on that. slowly.)

On my way out the door though, I realized just how deep my roots of distrust run. I mean, I love our cat but he is a real jerk and I still couldn’t trust another to care for him!

I have trust issues. I admit that. We, as a society, seem to throw that phrase around as our get out of jail free card. Can you trust me? No, I have trust issues. We justify our lack of trust by pointing out who and when and how our trust has been betrayed and wave it around like a banner that automatically grants us immunity from ever having to trust again. no one. not ever.

We all have at least one story. I have many. I set up a screen in my mind, digging out the projector, and replaying the movie moments of painful memories where someone I loved made a mistake and broke my trust in them. And then I punish them, again, by withholding the very thing that will bring healing to this situation. I keep my (lack of) trust as a barrier between myself and the event, essentially erecting a wall between us, a separation that guarantees my protection, at the expense of real relationship.

And trust, once broken, must be earned back. Right? That is what we say, what we believe. That is the hoop that I hold up, higher and higher, demanding the perpetrator jump and perform and do and meet my expectations in exchange for the gift of my restored trust. Can I tell you that this idea makes me want to puke? That I forced my pride to take a position of superiority over another’s place of brokenness is sickening to me in this moment.

But, and here is what had me pondering the meaning of trust, what if trust was never meant to be mine to give? What if trust, like love, is who I am, not what I do? What would happen if I just lived in trust, from a place of security, of such a deep seated assurance of my identity, and operated from that? I mean, I really don’t know what this looks like, but I know that there is a longing that has been unearthed within me that begs to answer these questions, that has me running towards this new definition of trust, not away from it.

If love wins, every time, than love’s friends must be winners as well!
Trust wins. every time.


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