Trust

TRUST…now that is a loaded word.

I have looked at the act of trusting as something that is 100% or 0%, but when I look closer there seems to be more to the act of trust than all or nothing. I would guess I’m not the only one who struggles with this word that many use so loosely.

I do wonder where trust originates from and how quickly it disappears. I wonder how people sit in a chair one moment and trust it completely to hold them up, but when it breaks they then look at all chairs as something that needs to be tested before they can trust it again.

My life started off with complete trust. Somehow, as a baby, I knew I would be fed, bathed, clothed, and rocked to sleep. I wanted nothing and had everything I needed. I was nurtured by my mother and provided for by my father. But after I turned 10, my world crashed. I still trusted, at least for a little while longer.

I trusted God would put my world back together. I trusted people would do the noble thing, the right thing. I trusted that my prayers would be answered and my innocence maintained. When that didn’t happen, trust faded, but it was never all or nothing for me. Trust came in stages and in waves. It came unexpectedly and surprisingly. It came from those I least expected and was tainted by those I highly respected. Yet still, trust was there.

Today, I think of Mary when she sat by Jesus’s cross. What held her together all these years? The prophecy from Simeon was that a sword would pierce her soul. Was it this day she felt that sword? Was it this day, she felt the magnitude of this prophecy? And still, something held her together. Sure, we can say God, but still, there was something she was actively engaging in that held her together.

I believe, among the many things it could be, one was trust. When the angel told her she was with child, she trusted. When she went to give birth, she trusted. When she and Joseph took him to the temple and Simeon prophesied, she trusted. When Jesus stayed behind in the temple, she trusted (and probably panicked, lol). When Jesus was taken by the soldiers in the garden at night, she trusted.

Mary lived a life of trust. She had to. There was much out of her control. From the moment the angel said she would be with child, and she asked, “How can this be?” she willingly trusted God.

And then, on the cross, Jesus looked at his mother and told her to look at the disciple he especially loved. He said, “There is your son.” And he told the disciple to look at Mary. He said, “There is your mother.”

If I were Mary, I would protest, “I dont want another son, I want you!” Maybe she thought that? Maybe she said that? But we know from the story that the disciple welcomed her in his home. I imagine there was something about the way Jesus spoke that let Mary know she would be okay.

There was a greater love taking place. This love would express itself in how they cared for one another. And it expresses itself in how we take care of one another. Somehow, once again, Mary trusted his words.

God, may I trust you today. May my heart and mind be open to many ways of trusting you: with my marriage, with my children, with my friendships, or lack of them, with my job, with my hopes, with my desires, with my fears, with my pain, with my uncertainties.

When trust is broken with others, can I still trust your story? Your plan? Can I still trust you?