Trust is an exciting thing. You simply acknowledge that you think this person will do this, that this person will not say this, that what you believe out of this person is true. With trust, one may reveal all his thoughts on the world, all his secrets, all his passions, every little urge that dwells in deepest parts of his bodies to someone with whom he believes in the most (having the most trust in, that is).
What makes trust an exciting poem, in a sense, is all the mystery behind it. Can this person really be trusted? Who am I to trust him? Why do I feel I can trust him when I’ve met him after only talking to him for about three minutes (in person :-D)? What are the consequences of my trusting this person? When can I know for sure? And ah yes, the inevitable (I’ve really taking a liking to that word lately) question, “am I to trust myself??”
It’s so awesome, the feeling of trust. When you know you can trust someone; you just know it. It’s like when you hear people in stories and movies talking one sentence to each other until one of them says, “I think we’re going to get along juuust fine.” They’re rarely asked why in those stories, but if they were, the answer would surely be something along the lines of “Oh, I’ve just got that feeling.” I wonder, if someone answered “Oh, I read a fortune from a fortune cookie that the next person I say that to will be for-sure true.” Would that count? I mean…that’s a lot of trust in a fortune cookie. But maybe that’s leaning a bit towards superstition? So let’s go with the first answer. I like that one anyways.
You see, trust can go everywhere; it’s a never-ending story, basically. You may trust someone, and lose it entirely for some reason, only to be completely mistaken and gaining it back, while the same thing happens to you where you are not trusted when you ought to be (though…I’m not sure if any normal man ought to be trusted entirely). It goes everywhere; it’s an exciting thing, really.
Now, trust may be an exciting thing, but not only is it exciting; trust is also dangerous. An extreme sense you can use for an example is giving a passing man a loaded gun, the keys to your house and the instructions: “Come, sit on my porch for a week and guard my house from trespassers. You can only use the keys to feed my kitty-witty, Lincoln and to feed your own face moderately.” All right, maybe this isn’t only an extreme sense, but a rather moronic, idiotic (if not entertaining) sense. But you all get the point right? I mean…you guys wouldn’t trust some guy off the street with your keys and a gun while you’re out sipping soda through a souvenir cup with a souvenir straw while admiring your souvenir fan hat at Disney World….RIGHT????
Trust gets really into it when someone breaks the trust; they may not know that they have, like say….they were caught, but don’t know it, but heck, they may know about it. They can do two things if their reason for mistrust is ever figured out (maybe they can do it before they figure out it’s known, but haven’t done anything about it on account of pride), they can either blow away the fact that it’s known, or feel guilty about it. Heck, maybe they’re even ignorant beyond reason! But the thing with trust is that, once it is broken, it causes a really deep wound so to say; one that still hurts throughout time. Now what I mean by hurt is this.
Someone breaks your trust, you feel bad at yourself for trusting them; you might feel angry at them for completely using your trust and throwing it down the garbage shoot. But then they come and ask for forgiveness, and you feel better again, like everything will be ok. Maybe that’s true with some people, but with a lot (I’m pretty sure) of the people, there will always be that wound. The hurt of the pain isn’t a feeling, like an “ouch” kind of thing, it’s more of a reminder, that this person did this to you. So, when trust is broken, but everything seems ok afterwards, there can be that hurt that always questions the true intention of the person. You remember this person breaking your trust before, so that little nagging thought always comes up “this person has broken it before, what if it’s starting over again? What if that little compliment was all but a part in another game of his/hers?” I’m guessing, that with some people, it may completely go so deep that they avoid this person entirely. But you may here, often, sometimes, whatever, that little saying “give him the benefit of the doubt” and there is an amazing analogy about how we should always try and do our best (cautiously, I would suggest) to give people a second chance.
Christ did so many things for us, painful things; things that would probably cause my sanity to collapse entirely where my legs buckle down and I have no more will left in me. Christ died for us. I mean, this is One of the Three Persons in God, the Son, who was sent to suffer and die for us, just so that we may be redeemed. He completed His task! No matter how difficult it was. But He did it, and there is no use denying that.
But what do so many of us do? We fall into sin. We are trapped by the temptations, we give in, and we fall into sin. We feel sorry for our sins (most of the time) and we repent, and Christ is ever so willing to forgive us. But we make it worse, we not only sin once and repent and go our own way. We sin, repent and go our own way, and then we sin again! And again, and again, and again, and again. We know we sin, Christ knows we sin. But what happens though? We repent; we feel truly sorry for what we do. And by God’s unending mercy, commands, and ways, we ask Christ to forgive us, and He does. I mean…here we (I) are (am), after having sinned so, many, times, asking Christ to forgive us!! Do I deserve it? Should I be forgiven? “Lord I am thine unworthy servant, do with me what thou wilt.”
I honestly don’t know how I myself can be forgiven, but that’s definitely because I’m not as great a person as Christ. It’s really hard to think about it (Christ forgiving people endlessly), but I do know that Christ does forgive me endlessly. It’s why He’s so great!! For me, it’s one of those kinds of mysteries. Where I don’t (or at least feel like I don’t) know why I’m forgiven, or how I’m forgiven, but I know it is so. Because God, through His Son, made it so.
I’ll try to end it with a prayer, that’s probably used by many, but that I like to think of as one I made myself. I’ve been doing it for a long while, especially before confessions, as a kind of way to acknowledge the gravity of sin.
Dear Jesus, how many times have I tempted You to let the cup pass?
How many times did I kiss You, giving You up for worldly items?
How many times did I grab You, bind You, and forced You on Your way to an completely wrong trial?
How many times did I utter false accusations along Your way, lying with what I can to get You condemned?
How many times have I denied Thee? How many?
How many times did I lay the scourge upon Your back? On Thy side? On Thy front?
How many times have I sent those thorns deep into Your head?
How many times have I beat You?
How many times have I completely mocked You, comparing You to the lowest speck of Earth?
How many?
How many times did I see no wrong in You, where I only saw holiness, goodness; that you were the true Son of God, yet condemned You to the cross?
How many times have I given You the cross, forcing You a burden on Your way to death?
How many times did I cause You to fall down, and did not pick you up?
How many times did I deny aiding Thee, and when it had been forced upon me to do so, did I make it known that it was not of my will?
How many?
How many times have I stripped You of your garments, causing the wounds to be re-opened?
How many times did I lay You on the cross and forced You to it by nailing your hands and Your feet?
How many times did I mock You even then, while You were at the last hours of your life?
How many times have I pierced Thy heart?
How many times have I sent Thee to the utmost agony?
How many?
And yet, after every confession you just know that Christ (maybe in my own, weird sense of things) looks past those things, once they are done with Him, and takes us in His arms and says “I absolve thee of all thy sins; you are forgiven.”
So, trust is an exciting thing. People can break our trust, causing the hurt in us. Heck, we can not only get hurt from trust being broken, but all manner of ill-doing towards us. But do we forgive them??
Oh, heck yes, we do.
