I’ve had my heart broken.
I’ve broken hearts.
And yet, I know there is capacity in my own heart to love others well, even if I have stomped on their hearts before. I know that I’ve been transformed… but still, it’s so hard for me to believe that God can transform others enough to trust them with my full self.
There is no funny anecdote today. There is no cute story about a kid. There is only a trail of very painful memories I need to exorcise that, if written end-to-end, could fill a book. I’ve been the victim and the perpetrator in these stories, and it isn’t pretty. Sometimes a little thing—a song, a smell, a passing stranger—will trigger a memory in me so powerful that I can’t shake it for the rest of the day. It elicits a whole-body response.
When trust is shattered, there are always mixed feelings. One is, of course, anger and heartache. But the other is relief, that realization that you aren’t crazy, that your gut was right. I wish I were the type of person to immediately thank God for pain, to praise him in the “highlands and the heartache all the same,” as we like to sing at church. I don’t know many people like that.
Even when the healing is done, the worst part about broken trust is the aftermath. Because let me tell you, shouldering that mistrust is awfully exhausting. Constantly second-guessing your instincts, resisting the urge to snoop and investigate, filtering every present word spoken through the lens of the past—it’s too much for one person to handle. It’s such a waste of time.
The Bible is full of good people who do bad things and go on to become some of the most important spiritual ancestors we have. Murder, adultery, pride, lust—they did it all. And yet, they were redeemed. They were forgiven. And we are too. Not just ME, but the ones who hurt me. That’s a tough pill to swallow, that God loves my “enemies” as much as he loves me.
There are no perfect people. Jesus was and is the only perfect person who ever walked the earth. I guess that makes it easier to live in the tension of mistrust, knowing that we all screw up at some point. It is not my place to decide whether someone has been fully restored. I can’t live like some judge of transformation, wasting precious energy on evaluating the likelihood that someone will hurt me in the end. Mistrusting people who have hurt me is, basically, mistrusting the power of God-given renewal. That’s the biggest sin of all.
I wish there were a five-point plan on how to trust after pain. I think all we can do is pray for healing, believe God’s word, and commit to what kind of person we want to be. Do we want to be people who think the worst of others, or believe for their best? I choose the latter.
Good article Sarah! I believe that trust has to be earned....I guess that the seriousness of the hurt comes into it too.
That person who drinks bleach likely won't have many chances to get it right 🤔